Intermission 1

 Following the chef, patrons in the store began staring at us as we moved to an empty table by the bakery’s window. Chef Lelong paid no attention as he took a pristine white cloth from the tray and unrolled it with a flourish, his movements almost theatrical. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he placed a cloth napkin under his lap, transforming the simple act into a captivating performance.

"Bon appétit," Chef Lelong said with a warm smile. To my sister and me, it looked more like a magic trick, as if he was about to pull a rabbit out of a hat.

I exchanged a bewildered glance with her as we sat down, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The way the staff and patrons stared at him as he sat at the table made it feel like we were dining with a celebrity. Thoughts began to pop up as to why he had invited us to eat with him? It made me regret not wearing something more elegant for this occasion. The chef seemed to read our mind and chuckled.

"I enjoy seeing the delight on my customers' faces," he explained, his eyes twinkling with genuine warmth. "It brings me joy to share my creations with others, especially young ones like yourselves. It's moments like these that make all the hard work worthwhile."

My sister and I began to imitate him by placing the cloth napkins on our laps, glancing at each other with uncertainty. The napkins felt luxurious, a stark contrast to the paper towels we were used to. The bakery's refined atmosphere, with its gentle background music and the soft hum of quiet conversations, made the experience feel almost otherworldly.

Penelope, dressed in a light brown apron over her crisp chef's uniform, joined us at the table. The soft bakery lights cast a warm glow, highlighting the intricate patterns on the apron and the gleam of the polished silverware. Her fair skin glowed under the soft bakery lights. She gently adjusted my napkin, her movements graceful and practiced. Her touch was reassuring, adding to the surreal nature of the experience.

"You two remind me of myself when I first came here," she said, her voice filled with nostalgia. "Chef Lelong took me under his wing and taught me everything I know. Now, let's show you the proper way to eat a soufflé."

We watched intently as Chef Lelong demonstrated, his hands steady and precise. He took a small silver spoon and gently cracked the top of the soufflé. A plume of fragrant steam escaped, and the soft crackling sound was music to our ears. The steam carried a sweet, berry aroma that made my mouth water. He scooped a bit of the soufflé, ensuring each spoonful captured both the airy, golden top and the rich, creamy center.

"Now, you try," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

My sister and I carefully followed his instructions. As the soufflé touched my tongue, a symphony of flavors exploded in my mouth, each note of sweetness and berry freshness harmonizing perfectly. It was light, airy, and perfectly balanced with a hint of sweetness and the fresh taste of berries. Each bite felt like a revelation, an experience to be savored.

"This is amazing!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"Absolutely incredible," I echoed, savoring each bite. The moment felt magical, like we had stepped into a different world, one filled with warmth and delicious surprises.

After we finished, we offered to pay for the dessert, but Chef Lelong shook his head. "I am truly glad that you both enjoyed them but these were a defective batch," Chef Lelong said, his voice firm but kind. "As a pâtissier, I can't accept payment for anything less than perfect. It would tarnish the reputation of Lelong's."

His voice was firm, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his delight at our eagerness. Penelope noticed our crestfallen faces and smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, making the cozy bakery feel even more welcoming.

"How about this, Chef Lelong: the next time they visit, they bring us a dessert they've made themselves. We'll call it even." Her suggestion was kind, bridging the gap between our disappointment and their generosity.

Hearing that, Lelong closed his eyes as he pondered what to do. Soon, he nodded in agreement with her suggestion. "Oui. C'est bien. Well then, if that is the case, may I have the names of the young chef and sous chef?" He spoke with a theatrical flourish, as if initiating us into a grand culinary tradition.

In all the excitement, we had forgotten to introduce ourselves. My heart pounded in my chest, a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck as I realized our oversight.

"I'm Poppy, and this is my little brother Ellis," she introduced us boldly, her chin held high. Inside, I felt a surge of pride and a sense of belonging wash over me.

Lelong gave a hearty laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I am excited to taste the end result of your masterpiece.”

Our faces lit up with excitement, a shared sense of adventure blossoming between us as if we were embarking on a grand culinary quest. The kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of sweets and the sound of convection ovens. The warm glow of the overhead lights cast a cozy ambiance, making the space feel both inviting and bustling with energy.

"Really? We'll do our best!" I promised, glancing at Poppy, whose eyes sparkled with ideas, already thinking about recipes.

Penelope nodded. "Just like I learned and grew, you can too. We'll be looking forward to your creations." Her encouragement felt like a warm embrace, filling us with determination.

With that, Chef Lelong and Penelope saw us off, their smiles encouraging us to return. As we walked home through the spring-kissed streets of Hogtown, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of evening chatter from the market. Poppy and I couldn't stop talking about the delicious soufflés and the kindness of the chef. The experience had ignited a spark within us, a newfound passion for baking and creativity.

But that day never came. The next month, a devastating fire swept through the heart of the city, engulfing the beloved bakery where Poppy and I had shared such a magical moment. The chef we had promised to see unfortunately passed away in that tragedy. The news hit us like a thunderbolt, leaving us stunned and silent. Tears welled up in Poppy's eyes, while I felt a heavy weight settle in my chest, the loss sinking deep into our hearts.