LUNCH BREA K They were astonished. How could they miss it? There it was, right in front of them. A smoked Norwegian salmon filet, the finest quality, prominently positioned in the fridge. That day, they were alone in the office, because the other intern was on a forced holiday to recover from food poisoning contracted earlier that week. “Come on! I’ll make croutons” Said Franco, rubbing his palms, caressing the idea of an act of insubordination. If they were to eat that salmon as they were obviously not intended to, it would unleash a direct attack upon everything the office ever represented. It would question the established structure of a one-course lunch and be a claim for better digestion. You could call it a revolutionary act of cooking. Their usual lunch break was based only on cold sandwiches, regardless of the occasion. Whether it was workers’ or mothers’ day, their menu was poor in vitamins and proteins. Colorful sauces on slices of ageless bread. It was reminiscent of the time, during Easter, when the whole office was having lunch. The team was composed of two interns, Mirco and Franco; a Belgian intern, Selma; one regular employee, Koen; and the Boss. It was at this occasion that Mirco spoke, for the first time, of the possibility of a better lunch. It was Easter, after all! And they shouldn’t be eating suspicious tuna sauce. Why should they be resigned to sliced young cheese, when they could aim for a better, seasoned Parmigiano, at the very least? “We could quite reasonably cook steak, every now and then or risotto”, he said in a hyper-caloric delirium caused by an excess of peanut butter. “It could improve our protein intake.” “No steak during apprenticeship. It’s the rule,” said Koen, disturbed by the idea of foreign cuisine. Selma interrupted: “Could someone pass me the garlic butter?” Amplifier #0000 - On Work
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