The Two Chefs
Reading time: 5 minutes
Image: michaelcalumross
Once upon a time there were two rivalling chefs. These weren’t just rivals, they were arch enemies who hated each other so much they could kill the other and serve as a dish.
At some point the king of the country had enough of their rivalry and ordered a cook-out so that once and for all there could be determined who of these two chefs was the best. The people in the land were thrilled because everyone knew about the hatred between these chefs but also the quality of their art.
While the palace is being prepared for the upcoming event, so the main kitchen is divided in two identical work stations. The stations are divided by a removable wall and cameras are placed so that the event can be viewed from anywhere.
On the day of the main event, both chefs arrived in stretched limousines: one in a white and the other in a black one. Everyone held their breath when they were summoned to the referee just before the contest was to take place, for that was the moment they came face to face. And since their mutual hatred was so well known, nobody knew what to expect.
While the referee laid out the rules, the chefs’ stare-off was colder than a polar winter night and everyone was quite sure that hadn’t it been for the referee, the king, his servants, the audience and the millions of online viewers, they’d have been at each other’s throats before one could say ‘Efilnikufesin’.
Then the referee is done and the contest starts. It is set up that every chef starts with preparing a three course meal. If that ends in a draw, they have to prepare a four course meal. When that again ends in a draw, they each make a five course meal and so on until a winner emerges.
They both make the finest of dishes and the jury can’t decide on a winner after the first round. Round two, round three, round four; as beautiful as all the dishes are and as rich in colour, flavour and form, it remains impossible for the jury to decide on a winner.
Meanwhile the chefs become more and more frantic as the match develops. Their heads become redder, their clothes wetter, and their moods darker. While on the other end of the spectrum the audience is losing interest as the contest is now moving in its fifth day and the end of the match is nowhere in sight.
When after nine days of non-stop cooking still no winner has emerged, the chefs are on the verge of collapsing and the arbiter and jury throw in the towel. The king and the audiences on site and online were already long gone by then.
Two days later, both chefs woke up in their work station. The kitchen was spotless and the mobile wall had been removed. Upon waking they had to blink a few times at the sight of the clean kitchen (which had resembled a warzone before they fell asleep) and, not in the least, of each other.
Since they both gave it their all and yet no winner had emerged, a faint smile adorned their faces. Without saying one word, they looked at the kitchen, peered in the refrigerator and went to work, side by side.
At some point a servant walked by and what was it that he was hearing? Was that singing coming out of the kitchen? Quietly he opened the doors and peered in. There were the supposedly hostile chefs not only singing and laughing, but working together!
Hardly believing his senses he ran to the king to inform him about these highly unexpected recent events. The king ran towards the kitchen to see exactly the same scene as the servant had described. Over the moon with such luck the king ordered the camera’s to be turned back on because he knew everyone’d want to see the fruits of these geniuses combined.
Quickly the news got around that the former enemies were collaborating and a crowd gathered in and around the kitchen. The chefs however were fed up with being watched all the time. And understanding how eager everyone was to see what they’d come up with, they ordered everyone out of the kitchen and that all camera’s be turned off, or they’d stop with their project right there and then.
Reluctantly the king agreed because as eager as everyone was to see these chefs working together, they were in the end much more eager to see what marvels they would come up with. So the kitchen was emptied of people, camera’s and every other recording device imaginable. Furthermore the chefs had one more condition: if anyone would so much as knock on the kitchen door before they were finished, they’d throw away everything that was made sofar and they’d abolish the project immediately.
And so the king, his personnel, and everyone in the country eagerly awaited what the chefs would come up with. Speculations galored and even wagers were made as to what kind of dishes would be presented. And as one and even two days went by, the tension in the air was so palpable it could almost be cut into slices.
Then finally, on the third day, the kitchen doors were opened. The chefs presented a rolling trolley beautifully decorated with a silk tablecloth covered with red and golden embroidered flowers. Silver lions guarded all four corners of the trolley and on top stood a large antique golden plate with a silver food dome cover, obviously waiting to be removed so as to reveal the treasure.
Without saying a word, the friendly smiling chefs handed an envelope to a servant, who brought it to the king, who read it out loud: “Dear people,” it began, “before this extraordinary event we were both of the persuasion that one of us was enough in the world. How delusional we were! For now we were able to make the dish that will surpass any dish of both future and past. We will now leave as we came. Do not lift the dome before the last of us is out of sight.”
And so the chefs took their leave, one in a white and the other in a black limousine. As soon as they were out of sight, the king took hold of the dome and spoke with great solemnity: “Behold the treasure of the two finest chefs in the world, which I have made possible.” Then he lifted the dome from the silver plate. Right in the middle, hardly visible, lay a dewdrop.
Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout
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