Hell's Smitten (Gordon Ramsay x Reader)

Chapter 69- Portions Challenge Part 2/2

Saturday, July 13th, 2013

Unlike most food buffets I'd been to, the soup kitchen patrons are much more polite and courteous to each other. They line up in an orderly fashion and make their way down the food buffet with gracious thank yous as they pile their trays up with the seven different dishes.

As I hand out my plates, I peer down the food buffet to see what everyone else has made.

Dave has blue plates with some sort of chili on them. Taylor's orange plates have a tasty looking casserole. Red's pink plates have a half a potato with thinly sliced steak resting on it and a dollop of garlic butter on top. At the very far end, Abel's red plates have steaming lobster tails.

After everyone is served, Gordon releases us to walk around and greet the diners to see if we can sway any votes to our side.

I head towards the first table that another chef isn't already at. An elderly woman sits hunched over with a man I presume to be her son. She looks weathered as if she's been through more than most people could ever imagine.

"Hey, my name is (Y/N) and my plate is green. I made shrimp scampi with orzo rice. I hope you both enjoy it!" I say as cheerily as I can.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman starts with her hazy eyes slowly moving across each portion. "I've never seen so much beautiful food in my life. I almost feel like I'm destroying art by eating it."

I look down at the assortment of plates in front of her. There are more high-quality ingredients in this food than I could afford on my meager salary. It's no wonder the finessed dishes make her anxious about eating them.

"That's the good thing about food, how good it looks visually often translates to an even better flavor. I promise you, all this food was made to be eaten."

She smiles sadly. "Funny I had to go ninety years before trying most of these foods. Thank you so much for thinking of us."

I feel a pang in my chest. I wasn't the one to think of them, that was Ramsay. Truthfully, I hardly ever thought about the people who would need to visit a soup kitchen; the poor, the homeless, the runaways, the victims fleeing abusers... I make a mental note to be more conscientious of others. These people are some of the most polite and kind people I'd ever interacted with and I wouldn't mind spreading goodwill.

I continue presenting my dish to the other tables. There is such a huge assortment of different types of people here. From teenagers to great grandmothers and from joyous people to the downtrodden, the kitchen bustles with life. It feels more like a family than a free food distribution center. They treat our food like a Thanksgiving buffet. I notice some tables hold hands in prayer before eating, and other tables share bites of their food.

If only the patrons of Hell's Kitchen could be half as kind.

Seeing all these people enjoying themselves as they dine on food they might have only ever seen on display makes me feel thankful for the life I've lived. Even though I've lost my parents, I'm still working towards my dreams. How many of these people were living normally before one terrible event turned their life upside down? I'm lucky I managed to stay afloat on my own up until now.

And I'm even luckier for having met Gordon. I've been too distant with him. I should have told him about me fainting. I had been too wrapped up in my yearly depression to consider how he would feel. It's going to take me a while to get used to opening up to someone again.

I'm not used to having someone love me.

I look around the dining room until I spot Gordon's tall frame watching us all from the entrance. This time when he makes eye contact, I smile first. His return grin is even more bright than usual and my heart flutters as I revel in his attention. He's mine. I have to show him that I mean it when I told him I wanted this.