He is the chef of the future

The year is 2080

All vegetation is gone

All the livestock is obsolete

The war of 2055 with all the posioness gas

And parasites only killed animals, our vegetation, our fish.

There are no birds flying

No cows or chickens

No vegetables

But, it did not affect humans

So what does this chef cook?

The chef is my uncle who cooked before

The crash came. But his talent for...

Mustaq’s wok rarely spills when he tosses onions. In fact, it almost never happens. This must be the second or third time I’ve seen him sweat since I joined Baloki Kitchen as a junior chef three years ago. For someone usually as imperturbable as a monk, watching him falter feels almost voyeuristic.

“Natasha, I need the sauce in five!” he barks, his eyes suddenly unfamiliar, carrying a strange he...

So fresh and tender

Raw and yummy

On a pat if rice

Wrapped with seaweed

Sweet and savory

Tasting so so nice

My comfort food

Removes my sadness

And it will suffice

Feed me sushi

Drinking some sake

My favorite vices...

*Chop, Chop, Chop.*

The butcher knife came down on the meat slab, slicing it into juicy cutlets that would be served in the city’s favorite restaurant. They were thrown onto the pan, sizzling and releasing a delicious aroma. The other cooks in the kitchen smelled that familiar aroma of Scarlet’s top-secret-customer-favorite family recipe.

“Smells good Scarlet!”

“Can’t wait to sneak a taste!”

...

“I need runners in the kitchen! This food is dying!” Daniel yells! He is the head chef for Table 25. The local farm to table restaurant in Flower Mound, Texas. They specialize in American Cuisine with French inspiration.

He looks up and sees the food is still in the window. That Beef Cassoulet is getting cold. I have to do everything as he walks around the line to run the food to the guest. Wher...

I started to love doing this on crime many didn’t. This crim can be related to many movies or shows about serial killers. I always was worried of being caught. The people of my town had given me many names but one stuck out. The infamous burger killer. It my sound funny but I got from acting like a food truck owner going around asking people if they were hungry and that was the start but that isn’...

The reservation was for one.

The host smiled too wide, like his face knew no other expression. “Welcome to Sanctum, Mr. Allard. Chef Lucien has prepared something… transformative for you tonight.”

Jonas Allard, food critic, adjusted his collar and followed the host through dim corridors that smelled of rosemary, incense, and something faintly sweet…decay. He’d eaten in every type of kitchen. But...

I’m a chef.

Could you tell by the title? No? Doesn’t matter.

Does that matter to this story? Also no.

Or maybe yes, depending on how much blood you think belongs in a kitchen.

Anyway, I don’t like serving people. Most of them are just loud, sweaty, and always asking for extra ranch. “Do you have gluten-free?” No, Karen, but I do have rage.

You know what does matter?

The smell of bacon.

It follow...

He’s the chef

Best one of all

Never shares his recipes

Maybe it’s a good thing

I cook all day

On my own

I serve the customers

Whatever they desire

But never how they desire

They want spaghetti?

Alright

Here’s the ingredients:

Brain

Fingernails

Veins

Blood

I do not reveal my secrets

Only this once

My place is too popular to sue

People would never know

I look so kind

I make the ...

I don’t even now how i started working here. Or even why. I don’t remember getting to this point in my life or what had caused it. “Will that be all?” I ask the fatass man in front of me behind the slanted glass. “Add some more” i rolled my eyes internally “more what?”

“Fingers”

I did as i was told and watched him hobble back over to his table. I look around the whole room; so many fucking pig...