Gemotions

The email was open on the laptop, the words of the review glaring back at Chef Mei. She’d known this was a possibility, and had been preparing herself. The critic, Mr. Henderson, a man known for his notoriously fickle palate, had called her restaurant’s signature dish "overwrought and pretentious." Mei closed the laptop.

A warm feeling spread through her chest. She hadn’t been wrong to persevere with her vision. She felt alive, electric. Her hands, usually nimble, began to tap a rhythm on the countertop.

Mei headed out into the dining room, her stride purposeful. She greeted the few diners already seated with a bright smile. She instructed her waiter to prepare an experimental off-menu tasting for the regulars, the ones who truly appreciated her artistry. She would show them.

She felt a surge of energy, a fierce determination. She grabbed a fresh notepad. Time for round two.