According to traditional French banquet etiquette, the rhythm must not be disrupted.
"Mr. Charles."
Laurent spoke, crossing his arms in front of him.
This slight defensive gesture revealed his inner tension.
"This is just the beginning."
Before the main course, please allow me to present you with the second appetizer.
Laurent gestured behind him.
The waiter outside immediately pushed in a second trolley with a sterling silver frame.
The food cart moved silently across the Persian carpet.
Laurent stepped forward.
He put on clean white cotton gloves and gripped the silver ring handle on top of the plate lid.
Unveiling smoothly.
The heat dissipated.
In the center of a deep, pure white bone china plate, a dark red piece of meat rests quietly.
The meat chunks were covered with a layer of golden, transparent fat, which refracted a rich sheen under the crystal chandelier.
Scattered around were several finely carved, snow-white water chestnuts.
Su Wei stepped back two paces to the side, giving Laurent the central display area of the dining table.
"Oil-sealed bear liver from the north slope, paired with water chestnuts from the Kodiak Glacier."
Laurent began his commentary.
"This liver was taken from the core energy filtration system of that 450-kilogram behemoth."
"It underwent an extreme low-temperature oil seal for three hours."
"I used expensive black truffle extract."
"Mix with the finest clarified butter from the Normandy region of France, and completely soak it."
Laurent's speaking pace gradually quickened.
The temperature during cooking is precisely controlled at 62.5 degrees Celsius.
"This cooking method completely eliminates the characteristic metallic taste of wild animal offal."
"It's now even smoother and richer than the finest Landes foie gras from France."
Charles held the sterling silver spoon in his hand.
The restlessness ignited by A Song of Ice and Fire still raged within him.
The blood in the blood vessels flows at an extremely fast speed, and the heartbeat is maintained at an extremely high frequency.
He desperately needed more fuel to sustain this euphoria he hadn't felt in decades.
Charles didn't wait for Laurent to finish speaking before picking up the sterling silver knife.
The blade sliced into the dark red bear liver with extreme smoothness and without any resistance.
The inside of the liver shows a uniform pinkish, pasty texture.
Charles placed the cut liver, along with a snow-white water chestnut, on his fork.
Quickly put it into your mouth.
Teeth closed.
The rich, creamy fat melts instantly on the tip of the tongue.
The rich aroma of butter blends with the unique earthy fragrance of black truffles, filling the entire mouth.
The crispness of the water chestnut perfectly balances the heaviness of the oil.
Judging from the evaluation criteria of traditional high-end restaurants.
This is undoubtedly a perfect work of art, with distinct layers of flavor and an impeccable texture.
but.
Charles ' chewing motion lasted only three seconds before his speed suddenly slowed down.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the meticulously prepared, top-quality food.
There was no reaction in the stomach.
There was no burst of scalding heat, no pleasurable sensation from muscle fiber resistance.
They lacked the frenzied urge to rush into the wilderness and tear their prey apart.
It was too quiet.
The quiet reminded Charles of the expensive nutritional paste he had to take while he was in the hospital.
Charles stopped chewing and released his fingers.
The knife clattered heavily against the edge of the bone china plate.
The silverware and porcelain clashed violently, the crisp and abrupt sound carrying directly through the private room.
The air inside the private room suddenly became tense.
The bodyguards in the back immediately tensed their thigh muscles.
Charles leaned back, his back slumped heavily against the back of the large leather sofa.
He pulled out a clean white napkin and slowly but firmly wiped his lips.
Remove all the expensive black truffle butter.
Laurent.
Charles uttered two words, without a trace of praise.
"I can get this dish in Manhattan, New York."
"You can eat there at any private club in the City of London."
"It's too weak."
Charles tossed the napkin he had used to wipe his mouth onto the corner of the table.
It even completely extinguished the excitement that had just ignited within me.
Laurent's back instantly broke out in a thick layer of cold sweat.
The pure cotton shirt clung directly to the skin, bringing a damp, cold, and sticky feeling.
He anticipated all sorts of possible criticisms.
This includes disliking the strong smell of offal or the insufficient temperature.
The only thing they didn't anticipate was that perfection became their biggest mistake.
Having experienced the defiant will of a wild beast before its death.
This meticulously crafted French dish has been reduced to a laughable compromise.
Charles wanted conquest, not a step-by-step appreciation.
Laurent's brain was working at lightning speed.
If the spread of this negative emotion is not stopped immediately...
The signboard of the Chart Room restaurant will be smashed to pieces this night.
The high-end social circle investments that Charles represents will also be completely wiped out.
He had to make a quick decision and abandon his pride as a Michelin- starred chef.
Laurent turned his head sharply, his gaze passing over Su Wei's shoulder.
It pointed directly at the 60-liter commercial pressure cooker with a heavy pressure relief valve.
Pierre!
Laurent roared angrily in a low voice toward the door of the private room.
Pierre, the sous chef who had been peeking through the crack in the door, suddenly jolted awake and immediately pushed the door open.
He stood beside the food cart, his brow beaded with sweat.
"The third dish!"
"Serve it immediately!"
Laurent gave the order and strode back.
Give up the dominant position on the entire dining table.
He handed the battlefield over to the Su Wei.
At this dinner table where wildness and violence are needed.