Page 47 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
"Absolutely."
When do you get the chance to be personally cooked for by Mr. Kensington? I’m a little anxious, but I try to hide my nerves.
"Would you like to sit here in the kitchen or in the dining room?"
Of course he has a dining room.
"The kitchen is perfect," I answer, taking a seat at the table. Gabriel nods with a smile and moves to the counter where pots and pans are arranged on the stove. I watch him curiously, impressed. He moves with such elegance that it fascinates me—every motion precise, his focus absolute. The smile that occasionally flickers across his lips makes it clear: he loves being in the kitchen.
"I read that you trained as a chef and pastry chef. Was that your parents’ idea?" I ask. A little casualsmall talkis probably a good idea now. "Or was it something you wanted from the start?"
"I enjoyed cooking and baking even as a boy. But it’s certainly in the family. It was obvious early on that I’d take over the company someday, so my parents spent every free moment creating cakes, tarts, and dishes with me. We traveled around the world, dined at the finest restaurants, visited breeding farmsin Asia, spice dealers in Turkey, and even went to Switzerland, which has by far the best chocolate in the world."
It’s true. I smile as I watch him getting enthusiastic. I love it when someone has that kind of passion, when they get to live their dream. It’s contagious, and it makes me feel good too.
"That’s why you’re getting a very special menu tonight. I’m trying something new, and you’re my guest."
"Then I’ve come at just the right time."
"Oh yes. Ready for the appetizer and salad?" Gabriel asks, looking at me. I nod quickly and fold my hands.
He sets the table, and I can’t help feeling happy to be served.
First he pours me a glass of water, then places a black bowl filled with a colorful salad in front of me.
"This is an arugula and mache salad with pears, walnuts, and goat cheese. I’m sure you’ll like the combination."
It’s such an unusual, adventurous-sounding mix — but I’m curious enough to be surprised.
Gabriel goes on, his voice low and even:
"The salad leaves have a nutty note. The thinly sliced pear adds sweetness. The roasted walnuts not only give the perfect crunchbut also complement the greens. The goat cheese is cut into small cubes for a creamy bite. It’s finished with a honey-mustard dressing that brings everything together and balances sweet and savory. A light appetizer, but full of flavor — the perfect start."
"Oh wow…" I say, swallowing. "I’ve never had a salad like this before."
But Gabriel isn’t done yet.
"With the salad comes an appetizer and a complementary white wine. The Sauvignon Blanc is a dry white with fruity notes and herbal aromas. It is beautifully paired with the goat cheese. The wine’s sweetness balances the caramelized onions in the goat cheese tartlets without changing their taste."
As he speaks, he sets down the next dish. "Phyllo pastry filled with goat cheese and tangy caramelized red onions."
Gabriel sits next to me, lifts his glass, and toasts me. I take mine and clink with him.
"To a wonderful evening," I say.
"And to a wonderful collaboration." Gabriel takes a small sip of wine and sets it aside. I do the same. I just have to make sure it stays at one sip, so I don’t lose control again.
"What exactly is phyllo pastry?" I ask.
I can see it’s thin and crisp but have never heard the name before.
"It’s from Greek, also used in the Middle East. Very thin, used in things like baklava or börek. You can think of it like puff pastry, if that’s more familiar."
Ah. Now it makes sense.
I taste the salad and tartlets. Incredible. All the things this man can do.
"This is amazing. I can’t even remember the last time I had something so delicious."
