Gemotions

“Predictable,” the review declared, dripping with disdain. Chef Kenji read the words again, a slow burn rising within him. He crumpled the paper into a tight ball, his knuckles white. The kitchen felt too small, too confining. He had been too cautious. He felt a sudden, urgent desire to break free from the constraints of his routine. He grabbed his motorcycle jacket and keys. He’d spend the day sourcing the freshest ingredients, the most unusual flavor combinations. He needed to feel the wind, to taste something new. He needed to shock the palate, to create something extraordinary.