Fucking Superiority

Before half past twelve, I go into the kitchen. It is a challenge to focus on a dish that is to your liking and that is not difficult to prepare. Everyone likes chicken, I don't think he is the exception. I remember Zinnia making it for her a few times at lunch, and I feel more confident about making it. Lucky me that I came across Zinnia's recipe book, how strange that I forgot it here. There are an infinite number of options, among which chicken stands out in various preparations.

"Orange chicken" it says there, listed as Silvain's favorite Asian dish.

I inform myself by looking at the recipe and procedure several times. It seems like a piece of cake, since in action everything is a little complex, if not impossible. The pressure on you, the obligation for everything to be perfect, doesn't help. Mmmm, it smells good, I try it and find it just right.

I keep the minutes in my mind, I confirm it on the screen of my phone. In fact, the exact time has passed when ever