My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!-Chapter 219: The Training Begins

Chapter 219: The Training Begins
Marron woke early on training day with the kind of nervous energy that made sleep pointless after five bells.
She’d spent the previous evening preparing materials with Jenny—recipe cards written in clear script, ingredient lists, equipment recommendations, quality standards checklists. Everything a new franchisee would need to succeed. But theory and practice were different animals, and today would reveal whether their business model actually worked.
By six bells, she was dressed and reviewing her notes at the kitchen table. The Precision Blade rested nearby, already making her hyper-aware of how she was holding her pen (inefficient grip, too much pressure, wasted motion). She adjusted without thinking, and the words flowed more smoothly across the page.
I’m being taught even when I’m not cooking
, Marron realized.
That’s... actually useful.
"You’re up early," Mokko observed, emerging from his sleeping corner with his usual quiet grace.
"Training starts at eight bells," Marron said. "Jenny’s renting one of the Guild practice kitchens for today and tomorrow. We need to be there by seven-thirty to set up."
"And you’re nervous."
"I’m terrified," Marron corrected. "I’ve never taught anyone anything before. What if I’m terrible at it? What if they can’t replicate the techniques? What if—"
"What if you stop catastrophizing and trust that you know what you’re doing?" Mokko interrupted gently. "You’ve been making crisps successfully for weeks. You understand the techniques. Teaching is just showing others what you already know."
"But the Precision Blade helps me," Marron said, gesturing at the wrapped knife. "It shows me exactly where to cut, how to angle my wrist, where to position my fingers. How do I teach precision that I’m still learning from a magical tool?"
"You teach the basics," Mokko said. "The fundamentals that work without magic. The Blade enhances your skill, but the skill itself is yours. You learned to slice thin before you had the Blade. You understood proper technique. The tool just refined what was already there."
He was right, of course. Marron had been making decent crisps before acquiring the Precision Blade. The knife just made her cuts more consistent, more efficient, more precisely calibrated. But the knowledge of
how
to make crisps—that was hers.
"Okay," Marron said, taking a breath. "Okay. I can teach this."
"You can teach this," Mokko confirmed. "Now eat something. You’ll need energy."
The Guild practice kitchen Jenny had rented was one of the smaller ones—designed for groups of four to six rather than full class sizes. Perfect for their needs. It had three work stations, each with a cutting board, knives, a portable burner, and basic cooking equipment. Jenny had already arranged for ingredient delivery—rootknots, oil, various seasonings, carbonation equipment, practice beverage ingredients.
When Marron arrived at seven-thirty, Jenny was already there, setting up visual aids—diagrams showing proper carbonation pressure, illustrations of ideal crisp thickness, step-by-step process charts.
"Morning," Jenny said, not looking up from her organizational frenzy. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I’m about to prove whether we know what we’re doing or if we’ve been lucky," Marron admitted.
"That’s fair." Jenny finished tacking up the last chart. "But we’ve got this. I’ve taught before—ran workshops on Earth about running food carts. The key is breaking everything into small, manageable steps. Don’t overwhelm them with the whole process at once."
"Right. Small steps. I can do small steps."
"And remember," Jenny added, "these aren’t random people off the street. Arrow is meticulous. The other two have existing cart experience. They’re not starting from zero."
That was reassuring. Marron started arranging ingredients at each station, making sure everything was in reach, properly organized, ready for demonstration.
At seven-forty-five, Arrow arrived.
The owl-kin looked nervous but determined, her gray-brown feathers slightly ruffled, her amber eyes wide with anticipation. She carried a notebook and had clearly come prepared to take detailed notes.
"Good morning," Arrow said softly. "Thank you for letting me be part of this."
"Thank you for joining," Marron said warmly. "Your cart is perfect for adding crisps—people already trust your quality. This just expands what you can offer."
Arrow’s feathers smoothed slightly at the reassurance.
At seven-fifty, the second trainee arrived—a young human man, maybe mid-twenties, with enthusiastic energy and slightly chaotic vibes. He introduced himself as Finn (not the mimic carpenter from New Brookvale—different Finn entirely) and explained he was starting his first cart with his partner’s financial backing.
"I’ve never run a food cart before," Finn admitted cheerfully. "But I love trying new things, and my partner thinks street food is the future. So here I am, learning from the experts!"
His enthusiasm was endearing if slightly overwhelming. Marron exchanged a glance with Jenny that communicated
this one might need extra attention
.
At eight bells exactly, the third trainee arrived—a middle-aged dwarf woman with practical clothing, calloused hands, and an expression of polite skepticism. She introduced herself as Hilde and explained she’d been running a vegetable cart for fifteen years.
"My produce sales have been declining," Hilde said bluntly. "People want prepared food, not raw ingredients. So I’m diversifying. But I want to be clear—I’m here to see if this franchise is worth my time and money. If it’s not, I’ll find another solution."
"That’s fair," Jenny said, meeting Hilde’s directness with her own. "This training is as much about you evaluating us as us evaluating you. If the model doesn’t work for your business, we want to know that early."
Hilde nodded, apparently satisfied with that response.
"Alright," Jenny said, addressing the group. "Welcome to the Earth Food Franchise training. Over the next two days, we’re teaching you two products: carbonated beverages and rootknot crisps. These products complement each other—people who buy drinks want snacks, people who buy snacks want drinks. By offering both, you maximize sales and provide complete service."
She gestured to the charts on the wall. "Today is carbonation method. Tomorrow is crisp technique. We’ll go step-by-step, you’ll practice until you’re comfortable, and we’ll answer every question you have. Sound good?"
Three nods—Arrow’s eager, Finn’s enthusiastic, Hilde’s cautious.
"Let’s start with carbonation theory," Jenny said, moving to the first chart. "Because if you understand
why
the process works, the
how
becomes much easier."