Closed starter for @buonoroberto
Bashimur was a little nervous about about his trip to Florence, Italy. Bashimur had heard many things about the king and there was something about the stories that made him more curious about him. It made Bashimur all the more want to impress him with his cooking. He knew that the meeting was going to be mostly politics, but he prayed for a moment for the king to recognize him and even enjoy his prepared meal. He decided to make a familiar dish, Biryani , something his mother would make when they had company. He worked around the kitchen, peaking over the shoulders of the other cooks. Him trying his best to direct him the best he could with his elementary level of Italian. He was trying the chicken, relieved that it was coming out the way it intended. It wasn’t long before he felt the entire room go still. The workers all stopping in their tracks, causing Bashimur to finally look up. The king himself entered the kitchen. Bashimur sucked in so much air he almost choked. His eyes immediately glancing down to the ground trying not to stare. So elated to be in the same room with the King he had heard so many things about.
