138Disclaimer: I do not own Shokugeki no Soma or any of its contents. Any name of characters included whether living or deceased is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1: The Heartwarming Adobo
"Where did you come from? Thailand? Indonesia?"
"What kind of cuisine do you cook? What do you specialize in?"
These are the questions I got tired of hearing since transferring to Japan to study here in Totsuki Academy. Even though it was the first day of class, I get asked the same things over and over again. Luckily, every now and then, everybody's attention shifts to a newcomer who was introduced earlier in the opening ceremony.
"Hey Alex, so what do you think of the new brat? Want to mess him up or something?"
Takeuchi Yuzu, my classmate and fellow dorm mate asked.
"Who? Me?"
"That is what happens when you are late for the opening ceremony. You are now officially a nobody here in the academy. "
"I got lost because you didn't wait for me and I'd rather not mess with him. Give him time to adjust. Both of us are new students anyway."
"Come on, you are better than that lowlife Yukihira. He really had the nerve to say that we are just stepping stones on his way to the top spot the day he entered this school…"
My other classmates joined the conversation and then almost half of the class soon talked about him with suppressed rage. I decided to leave the classroom due to the hostile atmosphere and head to the rooftop to eat my lunch in peace. After going through a lot of students staying in the hallway, I finally reached the quiet haven.
Lucky! I thought to myself, seeing that nobody was there. The cloudy weather and the cool breeze was just perfect for having lunch. The view of tall buildings and lush greenery with students strolling everywhere gave me a sense of calm. I sat down and opened my lunchbox which was consisted of a soggy fried chicken leg and rice, said my thanks and dug in. I could cook better food but this reminded me of my homeland,
The Philippines.
It was still a mystery to me why my father allowed me to go to Japan when I could have just studied culinary arts back home. For a boy of the age of fifteen, it was a huge step to travel to another country and live alone. While most of my classmates would discuss about frivolous things such as games and slacking off their whole life, I on the other hand, was already taught how to cook basic Filipino dishes since I was eight. I started learning to cook the day my father came home accompanied by a stranger. Yes, it was definitely on that day my culinary journey started...
He was a man with a muscular build who looked like he was homeless. I did not understand why my father took home a very smelly and dirty bearded man with unkempt hair and offered him a warm bath and a clean room instead of just leaving him in the streets. I had my guard up in case he shows his true color and does something bad, but the night passed with just laughter and conversations about food and his travels around the world. They looked like they knew each other from before. I found it hard to understand what he was saying because of his heavy japanese accent. Little did I know was I passed out in the middle of the night while they still went on like there was no tomorrow.
I woke up with the succulent smell of breakfast which tickled my nose and dragged me down to the kitchen. To my surprise, it was not my father who was cooking but another man who looked like the stranger from last night.
"Who are you?" I asked while grabbing the nearest fork and pointed it at the cooking trespasser.
"If it is not the little kid from last night, I took care of your father so don't worry because you will be next." He said with a malicious grin.
It dawned to me that he was the stranger who had drinks with my dad last night. He just shaved off his beard and trimmed his hair and swept it backwards. Shaking angrily, I rushed towards him trying to stab his abdomen with a plastic fork. He stretched his hand out which connected to my forehead and suddenly, I found myself unable to move forward. I swung my fork to hit him but my efforts ended in vain so I started struggling and shouting to force my way in.
"Alex, I would appreciate it if Jouichiro-san did not get stabbed with a plastic fork."
My father said as he came from behind and opened the fridge. The stranger gave off a hearty laugh and suddenly let go of my head. My forward momentum caused me to fall face first to the floor. I rubbed my aching forehead as I tried to grab the situation.
"Dad, who is this man anyway? Why are you still alive?"
I received a chop at the crown of my head which had a double damage effect from my first fall.
"Don't kill me off needlessly. Where did you get that idea anyway?"
"That man told me that he took care of you already."
"Still playing around with little children, I see? You never change"
My father said with a playful smile in his face.
"Well, just tinker the words a bit and their imagination instantly goes wild. Hahaha!" the stranger replied
"Alex, I forgot to introduce this man, since I was so excited to meet him again. His name is Jouichiro Saiba and he is a very good chef from Japan, probably the best i have ever known."
"Even better than dad?"
"Don't be disrespectful, introduce yourself."
I tugged the bottom of my shirt, doing my best to dissipate my earlier rage. I looked up to him and muttered in a monotone,
"My name is Alex Ramos, it is nice to meet you Mr. Jouichiro Saiba."
"No need to be so formal, I hope we can be friends. Also, I now go with a different name. I would appreciate it if you start calling me Yuki—"
'Friends? This stranger wants to be friends when I just met him last night and he had the guts to scare me in my own house. I will never be this man's friend!'
"I don't care who you are, you made fun of me earlier and that is something I can never forget!"
Another chop connected to the same spot in the crown of my head reducing my life points to one third.
"Where are your manners? Go to your room and come down when you have calmed yourself."
'Why does my father not understand that I am only protecting him from that Jouichiro stranger? I only meant to help him because I am now a strong boy that will stay beside him.' I told myself as I ran towards my room.
"Being a single parent must be tough, huh?"
"He is a good kid, he just couldn't handle Joyce's passing that's all."
I was crying my eyes out on a beautiful Saturday morning. I was crying out to my mom to find comfort but she already left me and my dad to go to a place where we could not reach her. It has been a year already but I can't help myself to reach out always yearn for her. My father felt more depressed and frustrated than I did but he always gave a gentle smile when we talked. Admiration was an understatement when I tried to describe my father and that was why I always kept myself in check to avoid causing problems because like him, I also want to be as strong as he was.
Half an hour has passed and I just laid down in my bed and muttered to myself about how annoying my father was to take the side of a mere stranger who I never even met since last night. But then, the succulent smell that woke me up earlier never bothered to knock on my door but barged inside straight away. My mind felt blank for a second as the image of my mother entered my mind.
I know this scent.
I rushed down the stairs to see what that dish was.
To see my mother…
"Hey kiddo! Good morning again. Sit with us. Your dad is just preparing some side dishes."
Reality dawned to me that my mother was no more, but this was undeniably the smell of her cooking. This was the food I was craving for the whole time, but that man's annoying smile made me lose my appetite.
"Have you come to your senses Alex?" my dad asked as he sat down the table.
I gave a small nod and sat beside my father. It irked me that the stranger sat on the chair where my mom always sat, in front of me. Both of them said their prayers and started passing food. Dad's side dishes were the best and it would have been sufficient but Jouichiro purposefully placed his dish in front of me. I drooled with every whiff of its strong aroma but I have not yet accepted the man sitting in front of me.
"Aren't you going to taste my dish, Alex?"
"Dad's cooking is enough for me. I like it best!"
My father looked at me with the most gentle of smiles and went ahead and had his first bite of Jouichiro's cooking.
*Clang*
The spoon fell of his hand and hit the floor in a loud reverberating sound. A streak of tear suddenly fell down from his eye. He took the spoon back to the kitchen and grabbed a new one then immediately ate all the food in his plate. I never saw my father act in such a way before.
I took my spoon and decided to taste the food.
With one bite, I was blown away as the flavours shocked me to my core.
The perfect balance of saltiness and sourness enveloped my taste buds. The chicken was so tender and moist that I feel juices bursting out whenever I took a bite. The spiciness was just right that every bite made me want to take another. Even though my mouth was already full with food, I felt even hungrier than before.
This is definitely my mother's Adobo!
Adobo is a very common dish for any Filipino household. Even as a small kid, I knew that every family has their own well-guarded secret recipe of their own. It was not a dish that was enclosed to a single recipe but basically is a meat preferably chicken or pork marinated in soy sauce and vinegar and simmered with its own marinade until tender. I have been to my friends' houses and they served their adobo in a completely different way, different to how my mother made hers.
It started with a single tear but as I went on, more tears started falling until I was completely crying. The food was so good that it made me cry. Deep inside, I knew I was crying because I missed my mother so much. This adobo was spicy enough to warm my body that it made me feel the warmth of my mother's hug again.
"Mommy!" I cried as I chewed.
All of us continued eating quietly, while I was wiping away my tears with my shirt. My clean white shirt was instantaneously stained by the Adobo sauce but it didn't matter because it was the scent of mom's cooking.
"Mr. Jouichiro…" I called out.
"Formal again? Hmmm why not just call me uncle?"
"Ummmm… Uncle, how did you manage to recreate my mom's food?"
He scratched his shaved chin and smiled again.
"That is because your father told me a long time ago that he had a huge crush on a girl from a province here in your country called Bicol…"
My eyes darted back at my dad but he just shrugged.
"... and as I remember people in that province always had a special love for spicy food partnered with coconut milk to balance the hotness of the chili peppers. That is why I incorporated those ingredients in the Adobo recipe I learned during my first visit in this country."
I never knew how it started, but after that one meal, I accompanied him every time he was in the kitchen. I told him stories of how beautiful and talented my mother was when i came to cooking and he told me stories of a certain school in Japan. An academy that produced chefs of world class level and graduating from the academy was very hard that only a select few manage to finish their schooling. It was a place where the phrase 'Cooking is Everything' really meant that everything was based on how well you performed in the kitchen. Listening to his stories and adventure rekindled a fire inside of me, a new drive.
After a week, he needed to go back to Japan to resume working in his diner.
"Uncle, Do you really have to go? You can start a restaurant here."
"As much as I would love to, I have a son waiting for me back home. He has the same passion as you have for cooking. I'm sure both of you would be good friends. I will introduce him to you when you visit Japan."
And so, his plane flew and I never saw him for the next seven years.
Never will I forget the words he told me even after he left. The words "When you visit Japan" still played inside my head every time I cooked and all of his stories would come surging back like a torrent. There was this place I really wanted to go, the place where aspiring first-rate chefs study and challenge each other, the place he called… Totsuki Academy.
I wiped the tears caused by reminiscing of my old memories and went back to eating the soggy chicken.
'That Yukihira guy, he seems interesting. He reminds me of a certain someone. What did he say again? To be at the top? There should be no other mindset if I want to graduate from this school. It looks like I'm going to have a lot of fun here.' I told myself as I finished eating and went back to the classroom.
A/N:
Hello everybody, if you have read up to this part, it means you stuck to reading the first chapter til the end. Yay! This is my first story and i would love to read your reviews if there are any improvements needed in my writing skills. I know it kind of turned out to be like a light novel but i enjoy dialogue driven stories. I decided to write about a character from Philippines because i love Filipino food and it is one of the most underrated cuisines out there. I hope you enjoyed reading this story :D
