the celebrity chef • pedro pascal

animal style fries

july, 2018

"I was thinking about some animal style fries for breakfast, huh?"

I jumped around too fast for my own good, hitting my back against the counter on the process. It would probably bruise later, but I was just glad I got to keep all my fingers after getting startled while holding onto a sharp knife.

He was leaning against the threshold, black framed glasses sitting on his nose and a cute little grin on his face. Smiling at me as if it hadn't been over a year since we last spoke and looking just as good as he did back then.

But he was different, too. His brown hair was now messier and a bit longer than how it used to be. I noticed he had also grown out his beard, or at least tried to. It was patchy and grey hairs were more noticeable, yet he pulled it off perfectly.

"What are you doing here?" I had no reaction for a few seconds. Were we good? How the hell was I supposed to act?

He held his arms open and I quickly dried my wet hands on a dish towel before walking into his embrace. The way his arms tightened around me as he pulled me into his body caught me by surprise, he held me so close I actually had to stand on my tiptoes so that I wouldn't lose balance.

"Got a new gig, will be filming here for a while." He spoke against my hair. "And Oscar's offered the guest room, so."

"Oh, so that's why you barged into my kitchen at 6AM?" I swatted his arm before sitting on one of the kitchen stools and gesturing for him to do the same. "What are you doing up this early?"

"I had an overnight flight and couldn't sleep after." The man shrugged, making his way to the fridge and picking up a bottle of sparkling water before settling into the seat next to mine.

"Thought I'd pay my favorite chef a visit." He winked and I looked down to my nails as I felt my face begin to warm up.

"Well, I'm flattered" I snorted, still pretending to check my nails. "So, what have you been up to? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I... I guess I was working nonstop for a while" He gulped his water down, I guess now it was his turn to avoid my eyes. "I had to go back to Colombia, and then spent some time filming in Seattle."

"It's no wonder it takes you six shots of espresso to function properly in the morning, buddy." Was it weird that I still remembered how he ordered his coffee? "Maybe you should try taking a break? First time in LA in ages and you're already onto another gig?"

Oh, I knew what I was getting at. And trust me, he knew it too.

"I did take a bit of a break at the end of the year, you know" He ran his hand through his hair, eyes still looking at anything but me. "I traveled to Chile to see some family. Wasn't a long one, though, me and Oscar had to go to Hawaii for work in january."

I guess we were going to pretend things were just fine. Peachy. Two could play that game. I've been avoiding conflicts all my life, Pedro.

"Oh, yeah, Elvira told me about that one" I remembered a conversation from a few months ago. "She said it was gonna be a good one, filled with hunks - is it out yet?"

"Oh, shut up!" Pedro threw his head back in a laugh. "But yeah, there were at least ten dudes way hotter than me on that set. I was just glad they didn't make me go shirtless for any of the scenes - I mean, can't really compete with Charlie Hunnam, can I?"

"Ha, I'm so not buying into your humble guy speech, Pascal." I patted his shoulder as I got up from my stool. "I've watched Game Of Thrones, okay bud?"

"I'm not in my thirties anymore, Jo." He rolled his eyes at me, but the smile never left his face.

"I'm sorry," I turned back to the counter and resumed chopping some vegetables for the kedgeree I had planned for breakfast. "I keep forgetting you're an old man now."

"I'm not that old." He groaned from his seat. "Now, where are my fries?"

"10 minutes down the road, at In-n-Out." I retorted. I loved how I could make him almost anything in the world, yet he always ended up asking me for the same thing. "You should really start watching what you eat as a middle aged man."

"Now you're just being mean!" He feigned offense, placing a hand his chest, "I guess I'll take an omelet."

"It'll be ready in ten." I said as opened the fridge for more ingredients. "You can wait in the main kitchen if you want. I'll send it up to you."

"What? No." He got up from his seat to get the ice machine started. "I'm keeping you company!"

The Isaacs had this really big house on Hollywood Hills. The coolest part, for me, was the fact that it had a service kitchen on the underground floor, with a dumbwaiter that went up to the kitchen on the main one. This meant that I had peace and quiet to work with most of the time, and didn't really have to interact with family guests.

The above ground floor had the main suite, and two others that were used as the kids' bedrooms. It also had an office, a pretty big living room, the dining room and the main kitchen. Outside, they had a gigantic pool and a barbecue area that was rarely ever used. The underground floor consisted of 4 guest rooms, a cinema room, a spa/gym facility, a big laundry room and, finally, the second kitchen.

Sometimes, when Elvira wasn't in a hurry in the morning, she'd come downstairs and have breakfast in my kitchen (yes, that's what I called it) so that we could gossip and just talk about life in general. She'd also sometimes help me out with lunch just so she would know how to make a few dishes on my days off.

Oscar was away a bit more often than her, but he was also a great guy. He was the one who got in touch with me, told me he had just moved to LA and wanted to hire a personal chef for his family. He only gave me his first name and an address. So I showed up and had to keep a straight face the whole time while Poe Dameron welcomed me into his home and actually gave me a tour of the place.

Thankfully, they were a pretty down to earth family and I grew used to the celebrity factor pretty fast. The downstairs kitchen worked a lot in my favor, but sometimes I still stumbled upon random famous guests in the hallways - most of the times I just nodded my head, smiled and tried not to make a fool out of myself. I guess that went out of the window on the night I met Pedro Pascal.