The waiting time for delicious food will seem even longer, because the aroma wafting from the kitchen has already aroused the appetite, so for the two people who are already a little hungry, this wait is hard enough.

Not knowing how to pass the time or what to say, Fujiwara Yu could only observe the small ornaments in the store. He noticed that there were many purple flowers in the store, and the photos hanging on the walls were also full of the atmosphere of the Showa era, most of which were photos of young couples.

Bringing the meal to the table, the bearded uncle noticed that the handsome young man was looking at the group photo on the wall. He raised his lips slightly and spoke with a sense of pride that was hard to conceal:

"Boy, isn't my work pretty good?"

Fujiwara Yu and Miyano Akemi were a little surprised to hear this. They didn't expect that this chef could also take photos, and the value of his works was very high, enough to establish a photography studio.

"Can I ask a question?"

“Of course.”

"Mr. Chef, why is there no entry about your work?"

Hearing this, a trace of loneliness flashed through the eyes of the bearded uncle. He put down his meal and sighed deeply, looking like he was missing something. After pausing for a few seconds, he slowly narrated:

"I used to be a photographer, and I took loving photos of many young couples, but I never took a photo of myself. This became my biggest regret, because when I was sorting through my photo albums, I realized... I had never taken a single photo of my wife and me, so I wasn't in any of these photos."

Fujiwara Yuu was smart enough not to continue to poke at the other person's pain points. He even felt a little annoyed at why he asked the question. He understood the meaning behind the chef's words - the chef's wife might have passed away.

It was because of his wife’s death that he was unable to take another photo together, which became the biggest regret in his life.

He has used his camera to capture countless loving moments of other couples, but has not been able to capture his own sweet memories.

Miyano Akemi, who also understood the meaning, couldn't help but turn her head to look at the purple flower that looked like a five-pointed star placed on the windowsill. She recognized this flower. It had a very nice name, called Platycodon grandiflorum.

The words of the gentian flower represent everlasting love. I believe the chef loved his late wife very much.

After noticing the change in their expressions, the bearded uncle put his hands on his waist and said in a complaining tone:

"Are you two planning to waste all the food I worked so hard on? Fried food is best eaten hot! This dish is called Wiener Schnitzel. Come on, don't just stand there, come and try my cooking!"

The bearded uncle didn't want the two young men to lose their appetite because of his story, so he didn't stay at the table any longer and walked quickly towards the kitchen... The water in the pot should be boiling, and it was time to cook the next dish.

Akemi Miyano looked at the Vienna fried pork cutlet in front of her, which was obviously much thinner than the Japanese fried pork cutlet. Unlike other pork cutlet shops, it did not provide secret sauce or fine salt, but only two slices of lemon as a side dish. From the appearance, it could be described as "ordinary".

Out of respect for the food, she picked up the lemon and squeezed the lemon juice evenly on it with anticipation, then picked up the knife and fork to cut the fried pork chop that was the size of her mouth. Judging from the crispy sound of the meat being cut, the heat and the batter should have been well-matched.

Snap——

The thin steak is very tender, without any meaty smell, and is paired with the sourness of the lemon, which eliminates the greasiness of fried food and makes it taste more refreshing.

I never thought that simple cooking techniques could make the ingredients so delicious. I really underestimated the chef.

Moreover, the bearded uncle was very accurate in timing the meals. After they had enjoyed the fried pork chops, he immediately served them egg yolk and bacon noodles, which looked not bad. It seemed that today's meals were all Western style.

"I specially use Guanciale, not the American bacon used by those stingy chefs." After putting down the plate, the bearded uncle did not forget to DISS those restaurant chefs who reduced the taste to save costs.

Fujiwara Yu picked up the fork with his left hand, rolled up the pasta easily and skillfully and put it into his mouth. The chewy pasta was covered with rich sauce, and the combination of egg yolk and Parmesan cheese would never disappoint. The Italian pancetta used for seasoning had become crispy and greasy, which was overflowing with fat in one bite.

The highlight of the egg yolk and bacon noodles is definitely the large amount of black pepper sprinkled before serving. The unique aroma and charming spicy taste successfully reduce the greasiness brought by the sauce and oil, and also reduce the "guilt" of consuming large amounts of food for Akemi Miyano, who is concerned about calories.

"Sure enough, the taste of pasta made with Guanciale is different, and the aroma of the oil is more obvious." Having grown up abroad, Fujiwara Yu is naturally no stranger to pasta. However, after living in Tokyo, it has been a long time since he tasted authentic pasta.

Miyano Akemi noticed Fujiwara Yu's standard American pronunciation, and since he was very familiar with Western cuisine, she had some vague suspicions. She put down her knife and fork, wiped the grease from the corners of her mouth with a napkin, and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, now I'm looking forward to the dessert~"

"It should be related to apples, right?" Fujiwara Yuu wrinkled his nose after saying this, his expression serious, like a sniffer dog at a crime scene. Then, as if finding useful information, he reasoned carefully, "And the smell of puff pastry. Taken together, it should be apple pie."

"Huh? You can smell the food?" Miyano Akemi asked in surprise.

When the bearded uncle brought out the apple pie he had been making from the beginning, Fujiwara Yu waited until the uncle left before he raised his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, his face showing an irrepressible smugness. He said with a smile on his lips:

"I'm right, it's apple pie, but it looks a little weird."

Miyano Akemi couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh, because in her eyes, Fujiwara-kun's proud little expression, combined with her previous thoughts, would become the look of a big dog wagging its tail and begging for praise after completing a certain goal, so she couldn't control the upward corners of her mouth.

"I saw it when I was researching desserts. It should be called Normandy Apple Pie. It's an authentic French apple pie."

"I see."

Fujiwara Yu, who was used to eating American apple pie, had never tasted Normandy apple pie. He picked up a fork, cut off a small piece and tasted it carefully, because he didn't like overly sweet desserts. The appearance of this "heavyweight guest" in front of him made him feel extraordinary.

However, after tasting it, he found that it was not as greasy as he had imagined. Instead, the baked apples had a unique sour taste, and a little cinnamon powder successfully made the sweetness feel less burdensome.

"It seems like you like this type?"

Hearing Saito Masami's question, Fujiwara Yuu smiled and shrugged his shoulders, saying in a relaxed tone:

"Well, my standard for dessert is - not too sweet, but delicious."