"No, that's not right!"
A passionate and intense melody suddenly echoed in his ears.
In an instant, it was as if he had returned to the birthplace of opera, to that world capital of art, to the central Italian city of Florence!
His eyes were like windows, reflecting the art galleries, the grand cathedral, and the Giotto Bell Tower.
With each chew, Takeomi's spirit became even more hazy.
He walked through the ancient halls of the Uffizi Palace, its walls lined with the brilliant and beautiful artworks of the Renaissance.
This was the Florence he knew so well, his hometown!
"Takeomi, Takeomi..."
A faint calling voice brought him back.
Takeomi propped his hands on the dining table, while the instructor opposite him laughed, "How about it, Takeomi, what did you taste? Even if the dishes are identical, there's still a distinction in quality, isn't there?"
"Culinary skills can be imitated, recipes may come from the same source."
"But only here—"
