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fish-factory · 2 months ago

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Made with Love - Cecil Stedman x Donald Ferguson

Word count: 2827

Chapter: 4/?

a/n: I started using dashes to mark POV change

Donald looked at the stove tentatively. His confidence from being chef de cuisine at his previous job and getting hired at a Michelin star restaurant has diminished. Instead of excitement or anticipation from the start of a new rush, he felt fear. He still didn’t know exactly what was wrong with the espagnole sauce.

He started preparing the sauces the same as he usually did, being extra careful to reread the recipes and measure twice. When he got to the espagnole sauce, he faltered. He tried to think about what he did wrong. Where in the recipe had he messed up? Was there too much salt? Had he made the heat too low? These questions whirled in his head as he made the sauce.

Once he was finished, Radcliffe made his way over. Donald could feel his heart pounding, and it felt like everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing to watch. This was of course just in Donald’s mind, but he didn’t feel that way. Radcliffe was only a few inches taller than Donald, but it felt like he was looking over him. Radcliffe sounded friendly when introduced, but his voice was now full of spite.

“I hope you’ve improved it since this morning.”

Donald said nothing. He feared his response may just be used against him if Radcliffe didn’t like his sauce. Radcliffe took a sip, and his brows immediately furrowed. Donald thought it was over. That he would be fired there and then.

“THIS TASTES THE EXACT SAME! DID YOU EVEN CHANGE ANYTHING?!”

“I just tried to be extra careful following the recipe, chef.”

Donald spoke barely above a whisper. His lack of confidence was evident. Donald expected more shouting, but instead, Radcliffe got unnaturally calm.

“I’m taking over your station. For the rest of the shift you can chop vegetables.”

“Yes, chef!”

Despite his calm demeanor, Donald could tell it wasn’t out of understanding or empathy. It was controlled rage, and Donald was scared any extra fuck up would unleash it. He left his station in defeat and walked to the vegetable pantry. It had been years since he was tasked with just chopping vegetables. It was the kind of prep work given to new chefs. To be assigned it as an experienced chef of 12+ years was humiliating. When walking over, he locked eyes with Cecil. Did Cecil seem sorry or sympathetic? The glance lasted less than a second, giving Donald no time to decipher it.

As he was chopping onions, he felt his eyes burn and water. The feeling of crying just made him feel worse. This day had gone terribly. He felt proud working at such a renowned restaurant, and now he felt like a failure. Like a song you can’t get out of your head, Radcliffe’s shouting played over and over in his mind. Each new onion he chopped it got harder to hold back real tears from forming. Crying after being shouted at was the last thing he wanted to do. So despite how much he wanted to run out of the kitchen and break down, he didn’t.

Usually shifts felt quick. But this one seemed to drag. When the clock finally struck 9:00 and all customers were out of the building, Donald felt relieved. He didn’t usually look forward to cleaning the kitchen, but today was an exception.

As an even bigger punishment, Donald was tasked with cleaning both the sauce station and the vegetable station. He didn’t mind though. Everyone was quick to clean their counters and wash their dishes after years of working the same area. Eventually it was just Donald and Cecil left in the kitchen. They didn’t speak to one another, but the silence comforted Donald after the stressful day. Oddly enough, this silence was broken by Cecil.

“Cleaning the kitchen is one of my favorite parts of the day.”

It felt out of the blue. Cecil never really made small talk. Was it to comfort Donald after today? Or did Cecil just prefer talking one on one? Either way, Donald felt a jump of joy hearing the other man speak, so Donald responded happily.

“Usually it’s everyone’s least favorite.”

“And you?”

“I’m impartial. Though, I do like the calmness of it.”

“Especially after a stressful day?”

“Yes. Especially after a stressful day.”

The mention of what transpired earlier brought back the shameful feelings to Donald. He knew Cecil didn’t say it to hurt him, but Donald wished they’d talk about anything else right now.

“Don’t let Radcliffe discourage you. He’s like that with everyone. Even me at one point.”

“Really? It’s hard to picture anyone pushing you around.”

Cecil let out a dry laugh and his usually stoic expression turned to one with a slight smile.

“Ha, he learned I push back.”

“Chef, could I ask you something?”

“You can just call me Cecil right now.”

“Cecil, do you know what was wrong with my sauce?”

Donald felt nervous asking. The mood felt light-hearted, but he was scared bringing up the sauce would ruin it. Still, he needed to know what to fix so this didn’t happen again. Cecil stopped wiping a counter to look at Donald.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Uh- yes. Yes, I am. Why?”

“Come in tomorrow, same time. I’ll make the sauce with you.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take away from your day off.”

“It’s fine. I’m usually here on Saturdays experimenting with dishes anyway.”

“Then yes, I’d love to work on the sauce.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Donald was overjoyed. Working one on one with Cecil felt like a dream. He’d get to observe a master at work and improve his cooking. After sending the last dishes through the washer, Donald was finished and could head home. What started as a terrible day ended in a victory.

Before Donald left he looked back into the kitchen at Cecil. He was still working hard cleaning the kitchen spotless. Donald felt a little guilty leaving him, but he knew Cecil enjoyed being alone. Donald closed the door behind him with a smile.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lunch is supposed to be a time to decompress and mentally prepare for the dinner rush. It was a time to clear your head. However, Cecil felt the opposite after lunch. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mark, Donald, and the idea of becoming executive chef. Cecil caught himself fumbling on basic steps of the dishes. Luckily he caught and corrected them.

Abraham had been doing well. After what happened during lunch, he seemed even more focused. Maybe Radcliffe was right that being tough led to better chefs. Chefs like Radcliffe weren’t rare either. Almost everyone has a story of a mean executive chef shouting at them for a minimal mistake. It seemed like the culture of the kitchen had been shifting, though. Cecil was unsure of where he stood.

“THIS TASTES THE EXACT SAME! DID YOU EVEN CHANGE ANYTHING?!”

Cecil jumped a bit from the sudden shouting, though he should’ve expected this. He did this to almost all new hires. It was practically a hazing ritual. Hopefully Donald didn’t take it personally, but it was basically impossible not to. When Cecil first started working here, Radcliffe would also treat him like shit. But Cecil would just snap back. This would just make Radcliffe even more angry till eventually he got worn down and just ignored Cecil. It’s why Cecil was chosen as chef de cuisine, Radcliffe knew Cecil could take it.

Cecil watched as Donald walked over to the pantry in defeat having been put on vegetable prep. He unconsciously gave Donald a sympathetic look. His once ebullient attitude from yesterday was gone. Yet again Cecil questioned the conversation he and Radcliffe had right before the dinner rush.

Dinner ended and cleaning began. The only difference tonight was Donald staying later. Most likely an extra punishment from Radcliffe. Even if Radcliffe thought executive chefs need to rule with an iron fist, Cecil wasn’t executive chef. So, he decided to try and lift Donald’s mood.

“Cleaning the kitchen is one of my favorite parts of the day.”

It felt fake just coming out of his mouth, but he wasn’t used to starting conversations. He should’ve just jumped straight to the point. It was a few seconds before Donald responded. Cecil thought maybe he didn’t hear or was just choosing to ignore. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Usually it’s everyone’s least favorite.”

Their conversation continued on for a little bit. Normally he hated small talk but right now it felt natural. Eventually, he had to bring up the elephant in the room.

“Yes. Especially after a stressful day.”

Donald tensed up a bit at the mention of how his day went. Maybe Cecil shouldn’t have said anything. He mentally cursed himself for being so bad at making others feel better.

“Don’t let Radcliffe discourage you. He’s like that with everyone. Even me at one point.”

“Really? It’s hard to picture anyone pushing you around.”

Cecil laughed a bit. It’s been awhile since someone talked to him as an equal. Or just talked to him about anything other than something directly kitchen related. It felt nice.

“Ha, he learned I push back.”

“Chef, could I ask you something?”

“You can just call me Cecil right now.”

“Cecil, do you know what was wrong with my sauce?”

Cecil thought for a moment. He hadn’t actually tasted the sauce Donald made, but he had a good idea of what upset Radcliffe. It wasn’t something he could just tell Donald. It required hands-on learning. So he offered something he’s never done before. Inviting someone to the kitchen on a weekend. Most people would say no. Who would want to go to work on your day off and not even get paid for it, but Cecil could tell Donald was different. He could tell Donald would do anything to get this sauce right.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Cecil wasn’t shocked when Donald said yes. He might’ve seemed like a pushover to Radcliffe, but Cecil could tell Donald fought back. Not verbally like he did, but through effort and proving oneself. Maybe Radcliffe didn’t see it yet, but Donald was going to be a great asset to this kitchen. All Cecil needed was for Donald to realize that as well.

Eventually Donald left, too, and it was just Cecil alone in the kitchen. Normally he’d reflect on how the day went. But tonight he was focused on the future. How tomorrow would go with Donald. If Radcliffe really was going to retire soon. And if Cecil was truly happy where his life was headed.

—----------------------------------------

Despite it being 5am on a Saturday, Donald woke up with ease. There was no traffic on his way to La Petite Merde, and when he pulled in, he was the only car there. All the interior lights were off except for the ones coming from the kitchen. When Donald stepped in he saw Cecil preparing the ingredients.

“Good morning, Cecil.”

“Good morning. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Could you start cooking the veggies I chopped. We’re cutting ingredients by 1/4th of what the recipe says?”

“Yes, Che- er, Cecil.”

Donald grabbed a small pot. Usually he’d use a large one, but they were making a smaller portion of the sauce. He slid the carrots, celery, and onions in with lots of butter. After a few minutes, they had softened. Next he added the pureed tomatoes, beef stock, and parsley. He let it simmer. Cecil was next to him preparing chicken, probably to go with the sauce. Donald wondered when he’d step in to tell him how to not fuck up the sauce.

The sauce finally thickened to the correct consistency and just as Donald was about to strain it through a cheesecloth, Cecil stepped in.

“The ‘trick’ is that you need to strain it weirdly. Normally you’d want it to be strained gently to avoid chunks getting in, but Radcliffe does a spin on it where the sauce is thicker.”

Donald put more pressure when straining the sauce, but it didn’t seem to give the right texture. This was completely different than how he’d been taught. Even though Cecil told him to apply pressure, it felt wrong to change something like that.

“Let me show you.”

Cecil walked over and placed his hands over Donald’s. He then squeezed hard enough to where some of the softened veggies were able to squeeze through the cheesecloth. If Donald wasn’t so concentrated on learning this technique, he would’ve been more embarrassed to be essentially holding hands with his coworker.

“When making a larger portion, still strain only about 1/4th at a time.”

Donald finished the sauce as the recipe said. Once it was complete he gave it a try. It tasted the same, but he could feel the difference in texture. Cecil tried it as well and gave a small nod. By the time they finished, it was 7am.

“Want to eat breakfast in the office?”

“Sure.”

The sauce paired perfectly with Cecil’s roasted chicken. They ate in silence with only the sound of forks on plates breaking it.

“Thank you for helping me. It really means a lot.”

“It’s more important to me that you know how to prepare the dishes properly than whatever powerplay Radcliffe has going on.”

“Either way, thank you”

“Don’t mention it.”

Donald felt himself start to relax. What happened yesterday was in the past. He was excited to go back to work Monday and prepare the sauce exactly up to standard and surprise Radcliffe.

Donald began to clean, but Cecil stopped him.

“I’m going to keep cooking a bit longer. I have some things I’m testing.”

“New menu items?”

“If they end up tasting good.”

“I’m sure they will. See you Monday.”

Donald smiled at Cecil before leaving, and to his surprise, Cecil returned it.

“See you Monday.”

Donald wondered what Cecil was making after he left. If he was more confident, he might’ve asked to stay and help. But Cecil probably preferred to work alone. He hoped one day he’d get to help come up with dishes for the menu.

—---------------------------------------------------------

On Saturdays the restaurant was closed and everyone got to sleep in. Everyone except for Cecil. While he was technically supposed to be doing this during the week, there simply weren't enough hours in a day to get it done. So he came in on Saturdays. It was mainly paperwork he had to do. Finish orders for ingredients or check the reservations for any celebrities.

This Saturday, he was trying to come up with something new for the menu. Every year they’d have a special dish for Christmas. It was October, but the earlier he started the better. Cecil hated having things on his to do list. He felt like he couldn’t stop working until everything was checked off. But everytime he got something done, it seemed like two more tasks needed to be done.

He was prepping vegetables when a voice startled him, though he didn’t show it.

“Good morning, Cecil.”

“Good morning. Didn’t hear you come in.”

Cecil started on the chicken, making sure to keep an eye on what Donald was doing. Just as he suspected, Donald was following the recipe perfectly. It wasn’t until the straining the sauce did Cecil need to step in.

Even after telling Donald what to do, he could see his hesitancy. Without thinking, he stepped forward and cupped his hands around Donald’s. It wasn’t till after the demonstration did he realize what he did.

Obviously showing him how much pressure to apply is the best way to teach, and if it was any regular shift, he would’ve thought nothing about it. But the kitchen being devoid of anyone else and meeting when not scheduled made Cecil feel like he was crossing a boundary. When he faced Donald again it seemed like Donald hadn’t even noticed. Maybe he was just overreacting.

They finished their dishes and finally got to enjoy the final product. Donald’s sauce had come out perfectly. Cecil could see the relief on Donald’s face. Even if Donald had perfected the sauce, it wouldn’t stop Radcliffe from finding other things to nitpick. Cecil said nothing, though. Donald should just enjoy this feeling of victory while it lasts.

After Donald left, it was Cecil alone in the kitchen again. He was used to being alone on Saturdays. Occasionally Radcliffe would stop by to have a little meeting, but usually he was too busy managing other restaurants. Donald’s presence was a welcome one. Cecil wouldn’t admit it, but he wished Donald had stayed just a bit longer. Maybe he could’ve brainstormed ideas with him.

But Cecil could hear Donald’s engine start and his car pull out of the parking lot. This was fine. Cecil was used to being alone. He didn’t need company, at least that’s what he told himself.

#invincible #cecil stedman #donald ferguson #donaldxcecil #doncil

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