A month passed in a whirlwind of activity. Every day after school, Elen would immerse himself in the virtual kitchen, guided by Core. He learned knife skills, mastering the art of the perfect dice and the swift chop. He practiced various cooking techniques, from the delicate art of poaching to the fiery intensity of stir-frying. He experimented with flavors, creating complex sauces and tantalizing dishes, each one meticulously analyzed and improved by Core.
His initial struggles gave way to a growing confidence. The virtual kitchen became his sanctuary, a place where he could explore his creativity and hone his skills without fear of failure. He learned about the science of cooking, the chemical reactions that transformed raw ingredients into culinary masterpieces. He discovered the subtle nuances of flavor, the delicate balance of sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and umami.
During this time, Elen continued his reading, devouring books on mathematics and astronomy. He found a strange comfort in the logic and order of these subjects, a counterpoint to the chaotic emotions he was still grappling with. The ordered precision of numbers and equations was soothing.
One evening, Mary and David returned home from a particularly grueling shift at The Golden Ladle. They were exhausted, their faces etched with weariness. The restaurant had been busier than usual, and a kitchen mishap had added to the stress. As they stepped through the front door, they were greeted by an unexpected sight: the sound of sizzling and the rich aroma of cooked food wafting from the kitchen.
"What's going on?" David murmured, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Did we leave the stove on?"
Mary's eyes widened with concern. "I don't think so. I'm sure I turned everything off before we left."
They cautiously made their way to the kitchen, their footsteps hesitant. The scene that unfolded before them was one they could never have imagined. Elen, their quiet, bookish son, stood at the stove, expertly maneuvering a pan with practiced ease. He was humming softly to himself, his face flushed with concentration, a far cry from his usual demeanor.
Mary gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Elen? What are you doing?"
David stared in stunned silence, his jaw slightly agape. "Son? Are you...cooking?"
Elen turned around, startled by their sudden appearance. A sheepish grin spread across his face. "Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad. You're home early."
"Early?" Mary exclaimed, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "It's nearly eight o'clock! We're late, not early! And what is all this?" She gestured to the array of ingredients on the counter, the pots and pans on the stove, and the delicious-smelling food in the pan.
"I'm making dinner," Elen said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
David blinked, still trying to process the scene. "Dinner? You're making dinner? Since when do you...cook?"
Elen shrugged. "For a while now. I've been practicing."
Mary's eyes narrowed, her concern evident. "Practicing? Elen, you know it's dangerous to use the stove without supervision. You could have burned yourself, or worse!" She moved further into the kitchen, keeping a close eye on Elen.
"I know, Mum, but I've been very careful," Elen reassured her, his voice calm and steady. "I know what I'm doing. I promise."
David watched Elen as he worked, his initial surprise slowly giving way to a grudging admiration. He had to admit, Elen's movements were skilled, his technique precise. It was clear that he wasn't just throwing things together; he had actually learned how to cook.
A few minutes later, Elen turned off the stove and carefully transferred the contents of the pan onto a waiting plate. The dish was simple, but it looked and smelled incredibly appetizing: noodles stir-fried with vegetables and a savory sauce, topped with some shredded chicken.
He placed the plate on the table, a proud smile on his face. "Dinner is served," he announced.
Mary and David exchanged skeptical glances. They loved their son, but cooking had never been his forte. They braced themselves for the worst, expecting something burnt, undercooked, or just plain inedible.
"Well," David said hesitantly, "it certainly smells...interesting." He took a small portion, his expression guarded, ready to politely choke down whatever Elen had managed to create.
Mary, ever the cautious one, stayed in the kitchen, watching Elen closely as he served the food. She was still worried about his safety, but she couldn't deny the enticing aroma that filled the air. A mother's worry warred with a sliver of hope.
Elen placed the plates in front of his parents, his eyes shining with anticipation. "I hope you like it," he said, his voice slightly nervous.
Mary picked up her fork, her expression a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. She took a small bite, her eyes widening in surprise. A soft gasp escaped her lips. The noodles were perfectly cooked, firm yet tender, the vegetables crisp-tender, retaining their vibrant colors, and the sauce...it was a revelation. A complex symphony of flavors danced on her tongue – savory, slightly sweet, with a hint of spice and an unexpected depth that spoke of careful layering and a mastery of technique she hadn't thought possible in her son. Her initial skepticism melted away, replaced by a growing astonishment and a surge of maternal pride.
David, who had taken a more generous helping, was equally astonished. His eyes widened, and he stopped chewing for a moment, savoring the explosion of taste. A look of pure, unadulterated delight spread across his face. He swallowed, then took another bite, a low groan of pleasure escaping his lips. "This is...amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and awe. "Elen, this is actually really good! It's…it's incredible!" He couldn't believe that this culinary masterpiece had come from his son, his quiet, bookish son who usually preferred the company of books to the chaos of the kitchen.
Mary nodded in agreement, her initial skepticism replaced by delight and a profound sense of wonder. "It's delicious, Elen! I had no idea you could cook like this. It tastes like something from a professional kitchen, not something a child made." She looked at Elen, her eyes shining with pride and a newfound respect for his hidden talent.
Elen beamed, his chest swelling with pride and relief. "Thank you! I've been working on it for a while now."
"But...how?" David asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "When did you learn to do this? You're always reading your books."
Elen hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. He decided to go with a slightly edited version of the truth. "I've been...studying," he said. "I found some old cookbooks, and I've been practicing in the afternoons, after I finish my schoolwork."
He omitted the part about Core and the virtual kitchen, knowing that his parents wouldn't believe him if he told them the whole story.
Mary looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and disbelief. "My son, the chef," she said, shaking her head in amazement. A tear of joy welled up in the corner of her eye. "I never thought I'd see the day."
David, ever the practical one, was already thinking about the implications for their restaurant. The taste of the noodles was still lingering on his palate, and he could already imagine the satisfied faces of their customers. "Elen," he said, his voice thoughtful, "this dish...it's not only delicious, but it's also relatively cheap and quick to make, right?"
Elen nodded. "Yes, Dad. That was the idea. I wanted to create something that was both affordable and appealing, something that we could offer at The Golden Ladle without breaking the bank."
A slow smile spread across David's face, a smile that spoke of hope and a renewed sense of purpose. "Elen, this could be a game-changer for us," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "This dish could be exactly what we need to attract new customers and boost our profits. Do you think you could teach us how to make it?"
Elen's smile widened. "Of course, Dad! It's actually quite easy once you get the hang of it. I'd love to teach you and Mum."
And so, the kitchen of the Warmith household was transformed into a culinary classroom. Elen, the former bookworm, became the patient and enthusiastic teacher, guiding his parents through the steps of his newfound culinary creation.
The first lesson was a chaotic but joyous affair. Mary, with her years of experience baking, was surprisingly clumsy with a knife, her cuts uneven and hesitant. David, on the other hand, approached the task with his usual boisterous confidence, only to nearly set the vegetables on fire with too high a flame.
"Careful, Dad! Not so much heat!" Elen cautioned, his voice filled with laughter as he rescued the sizzling vegetables from the pan.
"Easy for you to say, Chef Elen," David retorted, wiping his brow with a flour-dusted hand. "You make it look so effortless."
Mary, finally getting the hang of chopping, held up a perfectly diced carrot with a triumphant grin. "Look at me! I'm a culinary artist!"
"That's the spirit, Mum!" Elen praised, chuckling at her enthusiasm.
The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and laughter. Elen patiently demonstrated the proper techniques, correcting his parents' mistakes with gentle humor and encouragement. He showed them how to select the freshest ingredients, how to balance the flavors, and how to cook each component to perfection.
As they cooked, they talked. They shared stories about their day, reminisced about old family recipes, and teased each other good-naturedly. The atmosphere was warm and lighthearted, filled with a sense of togetherness that transcended the simple act of cooking.
"Remember that time you tried to make a fancy dinner for our anniversary, David?" Mary asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You ended up setting off the smoke alarm, and we had to eat burnt lasagna."
David groaned, feigning offense. "It wasn't burnt! It was...extra crispy. And besides, the smoke alarm was faulty."
Elen laughed, picturing the scene in his mind. "I wish I could have seen that."
"Oh, you will, son, you will," David said, winking at Elen. "Mark my words, one day you'll be cooking for us, and we'll be the ones setting off the smoke alarm."
The lessons continued over the next few days, each one filled with as much laughter and camaraderie as the first. Mary and David, despite their initial clumsiness, proved to be eager and capable students. They learned quickly, their knife skills improving, their dishes becoming more refined with each attempt.
Soon, they were working alongside Elen, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, and seasoning the noodles with newfound confidence. The kitchen, once a place of solitary work for David, became a shared space, a place where the family came together to create, to connect, and to celebrate their newfound bond.