Retrouvaille | Bbangsaz

Chapter 1: A Cold Reception

The Culinary Institute of Australia had been a whirlwind of late nights, early mornings, and relentless dedication for Hanni Pham. Graduating at the top of her class felt like the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. Yet, as she stood outside the sleek glass doors of Ètoile Cuisine in bustling Seoul, South Korea, nerves tangled in her stomach like an over-knotted pasta dish.

"You ready for this?" Gaon asked, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts. Tall and broad-shouldered with a comforting smile, Gaon had been Hanni's rock throughout their time at culinary school.

Hanni nodded, her dark eyes reflecting a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Gaon, dressed impeccably in his chef whites, pushed open the door to Ètoile Cuisine, the scent of roasting spices and sizzling meats greeting them. The kitchen was a symphony of motion—chefs in pristine uniforms moved with choreographed precision, their hands a blur of culinary expertise.

"We're here," Gaon announced, guiding Hanni through the labyrinth of stainless steel counters and bubbling pots towards a secluded corner office. "Ms. Kim is waiting for you."

Kim Minji—renowned chef, owner of Ètoile Cuisine, and rumored to be as fierce as she was talented. Hanni's pulse quickened with each step closer to the office, anticipation mingled with a healthy dose of fear. She had admired Minji's work from afar, studying her techniques and creations in awe. But meeting her in person felt like stepping into the lion's den.

The hallway leading to Minji's office was pristine, with spotless white walls adorned only by minimalist artwork that seemed to whisper sophistication. Gaon knocked on the door, and a voice from within commanded, "Come in."

Hanni took a steadying breath and entered the office, her eyes immediately drawn to the figure behind the sleek desk. Kim Minji sat with an air of effortless authority, her long black hair gathered into a meticulously messy bun that framed her sharp, determined features. Her chef's jacket, perfectly tailored, accentuated a figure that spoke of both elegance and strength. It was a look that commanded respect.

"Ms. Pham," Minji acknowledged with a cool nod, her voice as sharp as the knife she wielded in her kitchen.

Hanni returned the greeting with a polite smile, her hands clasped in front of her. "Ms. Kim, thank you for this opportunity. I'm honored to be here."

Minji's piercing gaze seemed to dissect Hanni where she stood. "Your resume is impressive," she began, her tone neutral yet tinged with skepticism. "Top of your class at the Culinary Institute of Australia. But theoretical knowledge is one thing—practical application, especially in a kitchen like mine, is another matter entirely."

Hanni swallowed hard, willing herself to maintain composure. She had expected scrutiny; after all, Ètoile Cuisine was renowned for its uncompromising standards. But the intensity with which Minji scrutinized her made her feel like a novice again, back in culinary school trying to prove herself.

Minji leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled as she continued to assess Hanni. "Tell me, why do you want to work at Ètoile Cuisine?"

The question caught Hanni off guard for a moment, but she gathered her thoughts quickly. "I've admired your approach to cuisine, Ms. Kim. Your dedication to perfection and innovation is inspiring. I want to learn from the best, to challenge myself in an environment that demands excellence."

Minji's expression remained impassive, giving nothing away. "Excellence is not demanded here, Ms. Pham," she remarked icily. "It is expected."

The interview proceeded with a relentless barrage of questions and critiques. Minji picked apart Hanni's background, dissected her culinary philosophy, and scrutinized every aspect of her experience. Each critique was delivered with precision, like a master chef filleting a fish—swift, exact, and without mercy.