[Your Sworn Sword] proves awful at stirring soup. You mention the resulting mess of burned mushrooms and watery gruel in your angry message to the Citadel.
[Your Sworn Sword] demands that Blane cook seven dishes in a single hour. He finishes only one on time. [Your Friend] sends him back to Oldtown.
[Your Sworn Sword] walks off with an armload of ingredients and Blane is unable to adjust and make anything tasty from his half-finished rolls.
"Think fast, Blane!" [Your Sworn Sword] shoves six eggshells into a bowl of egg batter. Blane fishes out every fragment, hardly seeming to pay attention.
[Your Sworn Sword] has Blane make tarts, then suddenly demands roasted vegetables instead. Blane smiles and pulls a pot from one of the ovens, already half-done.
[Your Sworn Sword] assigns several assistants to Blane, each one ordered to play the fool. He still has no trouble making the best trout you've ever tasted.
Pressed by an overbearing [Your Sworn Sword], Blane ruins the roast venison. [Your Friend] leaves without him and you put him to work.
[Your Sworn Sword] learns that Blane thinks boiled eggs are unlucky, and demands some. Soon [Your Friend] has left and you have a new cook.
[Your Sworn Sword] makes Blane look bad by slipping tough, tasteless greens onto a plate when [Your Friend] isn't looking. [He/She] departs without him.
Blane is reluctant to leave [Your Friend], but [Your Sworn Sword] makes a very persuasive case. Blane fails his test on purpose and is left behind.
Blane takes a few coins from [Your Sworn Sword] and deliberately burns a cream froth. [Your Friend] abandons the man and you take him into service.
[Your Sworn Sword] explains the lie to Blane, treating it as a jape. Playing along, the cook spoils his own lemon cakes... and by the next day he's working for you.