Day two of the Academy Fest came faster than expected, arriving on the back of a cool morning breeze that carried the scent of distant mountains and the promise of chaos.
This time, we were prepared.
A lot had changed overnight. Our single, desperate stall had transformed into a small, efficient empire. We had more stock, mountains of it, delivered by a frantic but well-paid merchant before the sun had even risen. We had more ingredients, exotic spices and rare vegetables that Julie had only dreamed of working with. And we had more labor. We had doubled our staff with a handful of eager, part-time helpers from the academy's culinary club, all of whom had tasted our ramen yesterday and were now practically disciples in our new church of flavor.
