The chef quickly turned his head and looked at Schiller's table, because there were two people on this table who were not using their forks, Schiller and Jerome.
The chef came over here.
"Excuse me, do you two have any opinions on this dish?" The chef's attitude was quite amiable, but there was clearly a threat in his smile, and his tone was a bit aggressive.
Before Schiller could speak, Jerome spoke first.
"No, the food is very good, but I haven't finished my wine yet. I didn't expect your restaurant to serve food so efficiently, and I'm a person who is used to tasting wine slowly. I'm sorry."
The chef's face stiffened for a moment, but he finally accepted this statement, but Schiller realized that Jerome was stalling for time. Why?
Just when the chef turned his attention to Schiller, a sudden change occurred in the restaurant.
A diner who had eaten his own head three times suddenly seemed to go crazy. Instead of cutting off his own head, he took out a knife and cut off the head of the person next to him, and put it on his plate.
Eat up.
After he finished eating the head, he aimed at the person on his right and cut off his head as well, and he ate faster.
But the person whose head was cut off did not come in again.
Sure enough, Schiller thought, this so-called eating oneself does not mean eating one's own head, but eating people of the same class as oneself. This group itself eats itself.
And Schiller found that those who had eaten the third head attacked the people who were eating the third head, and those who were not attacked had not had time to eat the third head, even if there were some among them.
Some are closer to these lunatics.
In other words, as long as you don't move the knife and fork on the third head, you won't be attacked, so Jerome is stalling for time, because it is obvious that once you start eating, you can't stop.
Therefore, the later you start, the later you will eat the third head, and the later you will be attacked. Judging from the current scene, people who eat other people's heads have not undergone any changes and have not changed.
Stronger, so naturally the later you enter, the more advantage you have and the fewer opponents you have to deal with.
It's not impossible to delay the time with pre-dinner drinks, but Schiller thinks this may be because Jerome is a science student. After all, in the TV series, he can work with Batman to develop the energy center and deceive Batman. He seems to be a science major.
guy.
But Schiller is different. He is a clerical employee. Since there are people in the restaurant who can communicate, there is no need for him to use such tricks as cheating. He has a better way.
Seeing the chef's gaze, Schiller arranged his napkin leisurely, but looked at the chef with a look that was slightly reproachful and disappointing.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I seem to have heard the story that you said before that you would introduce each dish to us. I was planning to listen attentively. Do you want me to taste your carefully prepared delicacies so unconsciously? Please forgive me.
Let me tell you, this is too unprofessional."
The chef's face immediately darkened.
Schiller sighed and said: "Food is only for survival. The process of converting it into nutrients in our stomach and intestines has no beauty. That should be left to biologists and doctors to study."
"If we focus all our energy on this matter, we will overestimate the significance of food to human society. On the contrary, we should pay more attention to the spiritual enjoyment brought by food."
"God gave human taste buds to allow us to unify our senses and spirit, so simply wonderful taste is not enough to fully explain the meaning of food."
Schiller tapped his fingers on the table and said, "I'm more concerned about the process of creating a dish, how that fleeting spark of inspiration is ignited in the mind of the chef, and how they choose to use it."
How to realize your inspiration, whether the choice of raw materials has any unique meaning, and what kind of emotions are expressed at the moment when the dish is completed."
"I thought I was going to hear this." Schiller exhaled, shook his head and said, "But you actually told me to eat it like this. I have to say, this really disappoints me. I thought the famous cloth
The Lovini restaurant will surprise me.”
The chef's face was obviously uneasy. The corners of his mouth were deeply turned downwards, and the obvious nasolabial folds were like two deep ravines.
"The vast majority of people here don't care about the meaning of food," he said: "They can't even remember the name of a dish, or they exercise their right to public opinion and ignore the feelings of the chef."
Snap!
The crisp sound startled the chef. He looked at Schiller who slapped his fork on the table, but saw a slightly angry look in his eyes.
The chef really wants to ask, why are you angry?
"Do you think I am such a person?" Schiller almost questioned, he said: "Why do you think so? I remember that we have never had any interactions before, sir, is this the etiquette you use?
Are you here to treat your guests?!"
Schiller stood up directly after throwing the fork, gathered the hem of his windbreaker and said: "If this is your attitude, then I must tell you, I don't believe that people like you can make any good dishes, and I don't
I won’t waste any more time with you here.”
After saying that, Schiller raised his feet and was about to leave. At the same moment, the waiters who returned to their original positions after serving the dishes seemed to have suddenly experienced something strange. Jerome also looked at Schiller with his eyes wide open in shock. If you want to describe him at this time,
The expression on his face is probably - "Where the hell did this lunacy come from? Are you still picking it up???"
The chef took a step to the side, just blocking Schiller. He looked at Schiller with gloomy eyes and said: "I have to admit that what you said makes sense, sir. I apologize to you for my rudeness. I hope you can
Give me one last chance, would you like to sit down again and listen to my interpretation of this dish?"
Schiller seemed a little hesitant. He looked the chef up and down several times, and then said as if he remembered something: "I seem to have a little impression of you. You appeared in the previous World Chef magazine, but very
It will disappear soon..."
The chef's eyes brightened a little, and he said, "I didn't expect anyone to remember me. Do you still remember my name?"
Schiller actually didn't know who he was, but he didn't panic at all and said: "Since you chose to come to Gotham, your original name must not be mentioned, but if you choose to serve people in this city
If you continue to serve delicious food, I believe you are a respectable chef."
After saying that, Schiller turned back and sat down again.
At this time, the restaurant was already in chaos, because more and more people were eating the third head. They seemed to have lost the ability to cut off their own heads to satisfy their hunger, and had to trick others, so almost everyone
They all held their knives and rushed towards the others.
Suddenly, screams, screams, wanton laughter and roars could be heard endlessly. The chef seemed to be a little impatient. He lowered his eyes and shouted in a low voice: "Quiet!"
In an instant, everyone's wrists seemed to have been hit, and the knives fell to the ground. They were pushed back to their seats by some invisible force, but they still looked very hungry, and they were devouring anything they could find on the plate crazily.
Meat.
"You named this dish 'nutrient'. I also heard this word in the previous song. Does it have any special meaning?"
He actually heard that ballad, and Jerome's eyes were even more shocked. He heard his own rotten head singing to him, and his only question was what special meaning does the word "nutrient" have?
The chef cleared his throat. Only then did he look at the head on Schiller's plate, and he clearly noticed that the head looked different from Schiller's.
"Before that, please allow me to ask, why is this..."
"Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" Schiller asked rhetorically, "Not everyone's version of themselves is their own."
The chef showed a clear expression and accepted this statement. He said: "The word nutrition means literally. In the past, they obtained nutrients from people below them, and this is obviously limited. Sooner or later, one day,
They must cannibalize themselves to satisfy their endless greed."
"You think the key is greed?" Schiller sat on the chair, looked up at the chef and said: "The ballad says 'there are fewer and fewer of them', but I'm sorry, I hold the opposite view to you."
The chef frowned. He was about to say something, but stopped, and made a gesture of listening, as if he had made up his mind that Schiller had no point to make.
"There's a glaring logical contradiction here," Schiller said, holding out a hand. "Let's put it bluntly. You think the rich have been exploiting the poor, right?"
"Yes, they only see us as nutrients."
"Okay, so what kind of people are poor? Maybe you would say people like you are poor, but what about the homeless people on the street? Do you think you are the same?"
"Oh, I know you think you are the process and homeless people are the result, but have you ever thought that as more and more of you are exploited as homeless people, there will be more and more homeless people."
"Yes, but homeless people can no longer provide them with nourishment, and they can no longer be considered human beings."
"It's completely wrong, sir. You think that after people like you are exploited by the rich, they lose all their meaning and become inhuman beings who are not even nourishment."
"Isn't it?" The chef narrowed his eyes and said, "There are too many people like this in the world."
"I say this not to deny their evil behavior, but to say that homeless people are not the result, because homeless people in the United States still live a very good life, and many people are kind enough to give them food, as long as they are not seriously ill or
If you commit suicide, you can live for a long time, right?"
"There is still room for them to fall, and if they are the outcome, then who are those living in slums in war-torn countries?"
"They are all people who have absorbed nutrients," the chef said.
"I didn't say that we must differentiate between them. You seem to think that this kind of fall after being sucked out of nutrients has no bottom line."
"If you think death is the bottom line, then I have nothing to say." The chef shook his head and said.
"Wrong." Schiller looked at him and said: "There is another layer between the muddled life and death."
"What is it?"
"Stand up and resist." Schiller seemed to be talking about common sense. He said: "If you can't live well but don't want to die, isn't there only one way out?"
"But the vast majority of people simply don't..."
"But you don't belong to the vast majority of people." Schiller said: "Even if you didn't before, you now have the ability to resist. Aren't you doing this?"
The chef picked up the fork on the table next to him and thrust it into the head of the man next to Schiller. He said: "You are right. I resisted in my own way. I asked them to give back what they got from me."
The nutrients are returned to me, and this is my interpretation of this delicious dish."
"No." To the surprise of both the chef and Jerome, Schiller raised another objection. He said: "This is an interpretation, but it is not the best interpretation at all."
