Nora didn't know much about food.
She had wandered with her mother since childhood, and being able to eat bread every day had already been enough to thank the heavens for.
Later, after her mother helped her escape from human traffickers, she had been on her own. Even filling her stomach was a problem—how could she care what kind of food it was?
Whenever she rummaged through trash bins and found something that looked edible, she had to stuff it into her mouth immediately. Otherwise, someone else might snatch it away.
So Nora didn't care what Ron had cooked. As long as it was edible, it didn't matter what it looked like.
And it smelled so good—surely it wouldn't taste bad either?
After tasting a bite of fish-fragrant shredded pork, her eyes immediately narrowed in bliss.
Then she took another bite of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, along with a mouthful of rice, thinking that her manager's cooking was actually this good.
It tastes even better than the chefs at those restaurants.
Nora muttered to herself inwardly.
If Ron knew what Nora was thinking, he would surely shake his head with a laugh.
His cooking was actually only mediocre. The only reason Nora found it delicious was entirely because of the seasonings.
Once the seasonings from Lyle's Barbecue Shop spread and were applied to other kinds of food instead of being limited to barbecue, what he cooked would no longer be anything remarkable.
"Manager, what is that in your hand?" After taking a few bites, Nora looked at Ron and noticed that he wasn't holding a knife and fork, but two slender, elongated sticks. She couldn't help asking in confusion.
"These are chopsticks. For this kind of food, using tools like these is more convenient." As he explained, Ron used his