I, Sakazuki, Will Not Take a Dog Easily

Seeing the cook surrounded by a group, he explained in a low voice: "It is said that the refreshments that those old hat pirates brought to Mr. Sa did not suit the old man's taste, which made Mr. Sa go berserk on the spot, triggering a catastrophe."

All the chefs and pastry chefs were dumbfounded. Protruding like a goldfish, the eyeballs almost popped out of their orbits.

"Eh!!!"

"I remember Mr. Sa doesn't like too sweet..." a pastry chef muttered to himself, recalling a tuna sandwich he once ordered.

Another chef felt very entangled. The tastes of the three generals were different: "But Mr. Huang Yuan likes it?"

The cook stared at the dead fish and looked at his companion like an idiot: "Let me just ask, will Mr. Huang Yuan beat you to death because it doesn't suit your appetite?"

"Right.."

Poor someone didn't do anything, and the wind review was killed again.

The chefs are still considering the amount of ingredients, considering the most appropriate afternoon tea according to the preferences of the generals.

A short figure has already started to shuttle between the cooking utensils and the kitchen stove.

The little guy wearing a short chef's hat is not as tall as the stove.

Only with a high stool on the soles of your feet can you handle the difficult task of holding a spoon.

He kept silently chanting the ingredients of the pastry he had chosen: 500 grams of flour, 150 grams of sugar, 3 eggs...

Suddenly he hesitated again, a little tangled, as if he was afraid of memorizing the wrong recipe: baking powder... remember correctly, it should be 20 grams, right? Butter 150g milk..."

What he did was just the most basic type of refreshment - scones.

Sanji tried his best to lift the special dustpan high, and kept shaking it to sift the flour. The move left his smooth golden hair covered in white powder.

But he didn't care, and added baking powder one by one, and put it on the stage to form a pond.

In his opinion, he may really not know what the generals like to eat.

As far as the pastry skills I have mastered at present, they are far inferior to those old chefs who have stayed in the Navy headquarters for decades in terms of types and production techniques.

But Sanji didn't care about these additional factors. In his opinion, the chef should be the latest to consider delivering food to the table of hungry guests first.

As the sugar melted, Sanji skillfully broke the eggs and stirred them with milk.

The little prince of the Vinsmoke family had been in the back kitchen of the Navy Headquarters for several years. After his mother recovered, he did not expect that his father, who had treated him indifferently before, would agree to his wish to learn cooking.

Taking advantage of the medical cooperation with Marin Fando, he also sent his elder sister to study in the headquarters.

He struggled to pick up the big pot, poured the melted sugar, milk, and egg batter into the flour and kneaded it evenly.

The blond little chef rolled the blank into a piece about 3 cm thick with a rolling pin, and then used a triangular die with a side length of 5 cm to press the scones into shape.

Seeing that the group of master chefs were still discussing, they kept rejecting each other's views and did not help him make dim sum.

Sanji sighed, put these scones into the baking tray, brushed a little beaten egg liquid on the surface, thought for a while and painted a layer of oil color, and sent them into the oven to bake until cooked.

"What, it smells so good!" The chefs who were about to discuss the results sniffed the smell, and then noticed the bold action of this brat.

"Hey! Sanji!"

Everyone rushed to this side in shock, but it was too late, the nimble little chef had already rang the serving bell.

Watching such a plate of rough snacks made by the kitchen chef being brought to the table of the generals by the sergeant, the head chef's heart was about to break.

[It's over, it's all over. 】

But as soon as it was on the table, this most basic afternoon tea dish was well received by everyone.

The oily and crispy crust has a golden color and emits a light burnt aroma after being baked.

There were not many refreshments, and they were even more embarrassed to take the refreshments on the elevated shelf in front of Sister He.. without permission.

This freshly baked scone can be said to be the timely rain for paying homage to the five internal organs.

Sakaski broke open a small piece of steaming triangular scone and gently put it into his mouth. The richness of milk and moderate sweetness of sugar bloomed on the tip of the tongue, and the puffy texture of the baked pastry bounced freely between the teeth. move.

Coffee and pastries are the perfect match for a tea break.

The slightly rough particles inside the scone and the smoothness of the coffee, the bitter hot drink is infiltrated with the appropriate sugar in the tea, forming a strong contrast in the mouth, which makes the taste buds still fresh in the memory.

"This snack tastes good..." Kuzan took a bite of a scone, picked up the hand-ground coffee and drank it.

Compared with Kuzan's casual eating, Sakarski is obviously much more artistic. He gently stirred the coffee in the cup, and motioned to the waiter: "Well, yes, call the chef."

"Although I prefer the original tiramisu, it's better than nothing." Even Polusalino, who belongs to the Sweet Party camp, rarely said something fair: "The chefs in this department are getting more and more sophisticated. , yes, call the chef who made the pastry."

The three of them understood each other's voices with just one eye contact: [I must praise you. 】

But this scene made a group of chefs anxious:

"What... what!? The general called the chef of this dessert past!?"

"Let me just say it! You can't get over this rough diet! Xiao Sanji! You're in trouble this time!" An old chef shook his head and sighed with his stomach full.

And the head chef, who was the first to spread unreliable rumors among the chefs, stammered and asked the waiter: "..., I am more concerned about which general let this child pass..."

There was a strong worry in his eyes: "If it's General Kuzan, then the situation is fine. He'd better talk, and he shouldn't embarrass you, a child."

Another pastry chef immediately added: "If General Polusalino, if the pastry you made just now tastes not too bad, he should just criticize you with a few ambiguous words and let it go."

"But...if it's General Sakasky," a helper lowered his voice, and suddenly shuddered in the steaming kitchen ": Sanji, if you have any unfulfilled wishes, please tell us in advance. We'll do our best to accommodate you."

The waiter in charge of communication was full of displeasure. It was a question that could be answered casually, but the chefs chattered for a few minutes!

What a good idea!

Even he hesitated and gesticulated for quite a while, he was still waiting to take someone back to return to his life!

The waiter complained impatiently: "Can you hurry up, who made that plate of pastries? Hurry up!"

The Doubi cooks hastily stuffed a piece of candy into Sanji's mouth, signaling that the boy should go on his way after a good meal.

Then with a sad and reluctant expression, he pushed the little golden retriever out.

Frightened by these unscrupulous cooks, the "failure" of the Vinsmoke family pitifully stood beside a group of big men whose average height was 2 meters away.

Close your eyes and wait for death.

But what was waiting was a deep and familiar voice: "Sanji? I didn't expect you to do it."

"General Sakaski." The little golden retriever shouted timidly, then lowered his head again.