Urban System in America-Chapter 105 - 104: Celeste Noir

The sun hung high overhead, casting a golden sheen across Beverly Hills.

Rex sat at a quiet corner table with a view of the skyline in one of LA’s most exclusive rooftop restaurants, Celeste Noir. It was known for its private terraces, celebrity sightings, and a menu curated by Michelin-starred chefs.

After shopping around, especially after an impromptu mini fashion show, he was a bit tired and hungry. So, he chose one of the top nearby restaurants: Celeste Noir.

From his location, he could see the breathtaking skyline of LA, dotted with tall skyscrapers, luxury mansions hanging in the sky, and, of course, the iconic Beverly Hills—the place that houses almost half of Hollywood’s elites.

Just as he was admiring the view, a waiter in a neat uniform arrived with the menu.

"Good day, sir. The weather is really nice today, sunny and breezy, perfect for dining outdoors," the waiter greeted with a gentle smile.

Rex smiled and nodded. He didn’t touch the menu handed to him and instead asked, "What are the recommended dishes?"

The waiter smiled again and said in a gentle tone, "Sir, we have Kobe Rib Eye Beef Steak that just arrived this morning. I would definitely recommend trying it. Besides that, we have Fresh Fried Cod with Lemon, Lobster with Seasonal Vegetables, Puff Pastry Black Truffle Soup, and Cheese Dessert on the menu today. How about a citrus sorbet to finish?"

"Okay, let’s go with all of these," Rex replied without dawdling. He didn’t overthink it. You can’t go wrong with the waiter’s recommendations.

"Very well, sir. The meal will be delivered soon." With that, the waiter hurried off.

Rex couldn’t help thinking that rich people really knew how to enjoy life. The Wagyu beef he had just ordered came directly from Japan.

It’s renowned for its scarce production, tender meat, rich omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, and its excellent ratio of unsaturated to saturated fat.

The best Wagyu beef is produced in the Hyogo Prefecture in Kobe. It’s said the cattle are fed beer and regularly massaged during growth. Whether those legends were true or not, there was no way to verify. It was just something he recalled from memory.

Soon, waiters in neat uniforms arrived one after another, placing the side dishes and Wagyu beef steak, covered by a silver platter, on the table in an orderly, swift, and steady manner. fгeewebnovёl.com

With a pleasant sound, the whole scene looked like a medieval oil painting depicting the daily life of aristocrats.

Sitting at the dining table, in front of him was the ingredient he’d heard about most in his previous life—the one with the highest reputation. WAGYU BEEF.

With only 3,000 cows produced a year and sky-high prices, he wanted to see what made it so different from the cheap meat he used to eat.

He skillfully picked up the knife and fork, gently and effortlessly cut a small bite, and tried it without sauce first.

It’s said that you must taste the original flavor first, then eat it with sauce to better appreciate the taste and the chef’s skill.

The steak seemed to melt in his mouth. He chewed it slowly and deliberately. At first, he didn’t feel much—maybe just a bit more tender, a bit more flavorful. But soon, he noticed that the meat wasn’t greasy. There seemed to be depth to the flavor: not too light, not overpowering. Just the perfect balance between greasiness and savoriness.

Even after swallowing, the taste lingered in his mouth.

"This is real life... what the hell was I even doing in my previous life? Not even as good as a dog..."

He kept cutting the steak into short pieces and stuffing his mouth, but deep down, he was cursing his past self.

The steak wasn’t big—he finished it in a short time.

The waiter skillfully poured him a glass of water. Drinking it, he exhaled with satisfaction.

Just as he set down his cutlery, still savoring the lingering umami of the Wagyu, the waiter returned with the next course: Fresh Fried Cod with Lemon.

The golden-brown fillet was delicately crisp on the outside, almost shimmering under the sun. A thin slice of grilled lemon rested on top, releasing a refreshing tang that mingled with the rising steam.

A side of light herb sauce—basil and olive oil—sat nearby, with a brush of sea salt crystals for balance.

Rex took a bite, and immediately his palate was hit by contrast: a crispy exterior and soft, flaky interior.

The lemon cut through the richness like a blade of light, brightening the dish and making it feel clean, oceanic, almost like a breeze by the sea.

Compared to the Wagyu, this dish sat on the opposite end of the spectrum—airy, delicate, and cleansing.

It reminded him that high-end cuisine wasn’t always about extravagance, but about precision.

Next came the Lobster with Seasonal Vegetables, a vibrant, colorful presentation.

The lobster had been gently poached and grilled, its shell a brilliant crimson. It sat atop a bed of artfully arranged vegetables: baby carrots, heirloom tomatoes, asparagus tips, and something that looked like a thinly sliced purple root.

A delicate saffron butter sauce surrounded the lobster like a golden moat.

Rex sliced into the lobster tail and took a bite.

It was firm, juicy, and sweet—not like the rubbery kind he once had at cheap buffets.

The buttery saffron sauce clung to the meat just enough to enhance it without overpowering. The vegetables added texture and earthy sweetness, rounding out the dish like a chorus supporting a soloist.

He nodded subtly to himself.

Luxury really does refine every detail.

Ingredients might be the same, but the difference shows in the freshness of each item and the delicate process behind it.

Then came a curious dish in a small porcelain bowl, covered with a delicate golden dome: Puff Pastry Black Truffle Soup.

As the waiter carefully broke the top with a spoon, the aroma of black truffle, cream, and wild mushrooms wafted into the air. Steam curled upward like incense in a temple.

Rex leaned forward slightly, inhaling deeply.

This... this was a scent that whispered of decadence, of secrets slow-cooked in shadow.

He picked up his spoon.

(End of Chapter)