$150,000 Rugelach

by Allison Marks

  Jack’s head poked above a sea of Farnsworth kitchen gadgets laid out on the counter.

  “Time for the Jack Attack!” he yelled, clapping his hands and sending a cloud of flour skyward.

  Emerging from the puff of white, Jack cracked eggs behind his back, juggled spatulas, and drummed on the counter with palette knives. The music pulsated as he pulled a tray out of the oven.

  “Cannolis with pumpkin spice and pistachio filling. Boom!” Jack said, just as Chad tripped over a cord and knocked the mixing bowl to the floor with a crash.

  Bleeeeeep.

  Jack’s father put his hands over his face. Mr. Mermelstein glared at Jack as if he had three heads. Grandma Rita gave Jack a thumbs-up and mouthed, Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

  Reginald and Veronica pointed at him. “His teammate is Rugelach Girl. We won’t have to worry about them,” Reginald said.

  Jack scribbled one last note: Do not like Reginald and Veronica.

  Chapter 21

  One at a time, Liz and her assistants interviewed each contestant and their families.

  “Why is this necessary?” Mr. Fineman sighed. “The contest is about you, not us.”

  “They use snippets of the videos as background about the contestants as we bake. They show them on three big video screens behind the judging table. At most, you might be on screen for thirty seconds.”

  Mr. Fineman told the interviewer about Jack’s first taste of Boston cream pie and his favorite three words: YUM! MORE! NOW!

  Mrs. Fineman explained that Jack had a tradition of making her the most irresistible carrot and caramel cupcakes for her birthday. When asked what it meant to have her son as part of the “great Farnsworth baking legacy,” she simply said, “No comment.” Jack watched as Bruce lived up to his end of the bet he had made with Jillian.

  “Jack … makes … the … best … oatmeal … cookies … in … the … whole … universe,” his brother said, choking on every syllable. His voice was so robotic and unconvincing that Jack was certain Bruce’s contribution would never be used.

  Afterward, Jack and his parents met with Liz to sign the contract.

  “Please close the door behind you,” Liz said, twiddling with a folder on her desk. Its cover was marked Jack Fineman Official Profile. The word CONFIDENTIAL was stamped in red ink along the top.

  “On behalf of Mr. Farnsworth and everyone at the Bakerstown Bonanza, let me say we’re thrilled to have you as a part of the contest’s seventy-fifth anniversary.”

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Fineman said, coughing. “It’s certainly something we never expected.”

  “Well, we expect great things from your son.”

  Liz beamed at Jack.

  “As you may know, the success of the Bonanza will depend on more than your skills in the kitchen. Back in the old days, there was no other event like it. Now we’re competing against all those reality cooking shows. We need ours to stand above the rest.”

  “I understand,” Jack said. “I’m ready to make it happen!”

  “Good. That’s why it’s important for you to allow your, ah, boisterous personality—the rock ’n’ roll attitude—to shine through. The more swagger, the better. It will contrast well with your baking partner’s calmer nature. Our research indicates many of our customers will identify with you—the loud guy who speaks his mind and doesn’t care what others think. Can you do that?”

  “Sure! That’s who I am,” Jack said.

  “Fantastic! Mr. Farnsworth sees a lot of you in himself, Jack,” Liz continued. “Someone who isn’t afraid to take chances. Someone who won’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of a dream.”

  Hearing Liz talk about Farnsworth and Jack, Mrs. Fineman frowned and looked away. Liz turned to Jack’s parents.

  “I must say that of all the applications we received, your answers to the questionnaire were the most memorable, especially the cricket cookies.”

  “Yes, Jack is always thinking of new ingredients to try,” Mr. Fineman said. He nervously tugged at his left ear, knowing that it was Jack who had filled out the questionnaire.

  “That’s good to know,” Liz said, looking at Jack. “We just want to make sure there won’t be anything out of the ordinary in your recipe. A tarantula trifle might receive a great deal of media attention, but I’m afraid it will never end up on the cover of the cookbook. Understand?”

  “Loud and clear,” Jack said.

  Jillian and her family entered Liz’s office next.

  “I’m glad you could all be here today,” Liz said. “We are delighted to have you as a contestant, Jillian. Your video was lovely.”

  Jillian nodded. Liz turned to Grandma Rita.

  “And it is an honor to meet you in person. Everyone on the staff wishes they had a Grandma Rita in their lives.”

  “Or a granddaughter like Jillian,” Grandma Rita said.

  “I agree,” Liz said. “It’s the reason she was selected. Our test audiences adored her. We think Jillian could become a sensation!”

  “A sensation? I don’t understand,” Mr. Mermelstein said. “And who is we?”

  Liz opened a folder with Jillian’s name on it.

  “We don’t choose anyone without first doing a thorough background check. Mr. Farnsworth doesn’t like surprises. Neither do our lawyers.”

  Jillian gulped hard. She felt like a pawn about to be moved to a dangerous square on a chessboard.

  “During our research, Jillian, we found you weren’t entirely honest on your application. While not untruthful, you left out one significant detail.”

  “What detail?” Mr. Mermelstein asked, gripping the arms of his chair and knowing full well what Liz meant.

  “Your wife … Jillian’s mother.”

  “As you can imagine,” he said through gritted teeth, “some things are too personal to share with the world. And, honestly, I don’t appreciate you snooping around like that.”

  “It’s just standard procedure, Mr. Mermelstein. As you know, there’s quite a bit you can discover just by doing a simple Google search.”

  “Such as?” Grandma Rita asked.

  From the folder Liz pulled out an article from The Seattle Times about the opening of Joan of Hearts Pastry Shop. In the photo, Jillian’s mother held up the tiger maple spoon. A second clipping showed a photo of Jillian and her mother passing out jelly-filled donuts at a menorah-lighting celebration at the mall. The final article was about the memorial service held at the pastry shop in honor of her mother. A photo showed Jillian clutching the wooden spoon to her chest.

  “Please understand, Mr. Mermelstein. We are looking out for Jillian’s best interests.”

  “I fail to see how,” he snorted.

  “The Bakerstown Bonanza is about real people—their stories, their dreams, their hopes, their motivations. We believe Jillian’s life will connect with the people who for generations have used Farnsworth sugar and baking utensils. But we are certain they will love her more if they knew her whole story. This is very important.”

  Jillian imagined strangers sifting through her private memory box like shoppers rummaging through knickknacks at a garage sale. She thought about the ten thousand phones recording her as she talked about the peaceful Saturday mornings she spent with her mother. She pictured herself breaking down on camera, sharing her sorrow with people as they scrolled through social media while waiting in line at the grocery store, the post office—everywhere. And the Bonanza could use her words and these images—however they wanted to—in perpetuity. Forever.

  I can’t do it, she thought. I just can’t.

  “It hasn’t even been a year since …” Mr. Mermelstein trailed off. “Our loss is too recent and too painful. I don’t want my daughter to have complete strangers pestering her about a tragic memory, to have baking, the one thing that brings her complete joy, be tainted and ruined. No amount of money in the world is worth that.”

  “I understand,” Liz said. “Still, I strongly encourage Jillian to men
tion her mother during the event. This comes straight from Phineas Farnsworth III himself. While there are no guarantees, doing so will greatly increase Jillian’s chances of winning. And Mr. Farnsworth has bigger plans for Jillian.”

  “What plans?” Grandma Rita asked.

  “He thinks Jillian has potential to be the face of his new line of ‘Little Hands with Big Appetites’ junior baking products. Your granddaughter could be a star.”

  “Why me?” Jillian blurted out. “I’m not special.”

  “Oh, but you are,” Liz said. “You have the look and the personality Mr. Farnsworth wants. He’s convinced you are perfect for the role. And he’s never wrong when it comes to business. This would change your life.”

  “How?” Jillian asked.

  “You and your family would travel the world. Your image would be everywhere—television commercials, the Internet, and billboards in Times Square. Someday you may even have your own show. Mr. Farnsworth can make all of this happen—and more!”

  Liz reached behind her desk and pulled out a stack of art boards. They were mock-ups of advertisements showing a girl using a Farnsworth Junior Food Processor. Jillian’s head had been photoshopped to the girl’s body. The slogan above the food processor read, The next best thing to my mother’s wooden spoon.

  “Our graphic design department put these together,” Liz said. “It is Mr. Farnsworth’s idea for the campaign. With your permission, of course, we would begin running this and other ads using actual photos.” Liz looked at Mr. Mermelstein. “You would never have to worry about money again.”

  “And if she doesn’t go along?” Mr. Mermelstein asked, his voice wavering.

  “All I can say is Mr. Farnsworth doesn’t like to be disappointed.”

  Chapter 22

  Jack spent the next day compiling his own profiles of the other contestants in his scrapbook:

  Team 1

  Contestant 1: Quentin Lindenberg

  School: Feldspar Math and Science Institute

  The Video: All about animals. Has two border collies, five cats, a parakeet, and a three-legged rescue ferret named Fergus. Bakes treats for his pets. Made pecan pie brownies to raise money for Ardmore’s Animal Adoption Shelter. Last scene shows him feeding a two-week-old kitten with a bottle.

  Contestant 2: Marcia Thorne

  School: Feldspar Math and Science Institute

  The Video: Helps out taking care of her triplet brothers. Made them each a cake for their first birthdays—carrot, raspberry, and red velvet with beet juice. Interesting choices! Some of the prize money will go toward the triplets’ college fund. Has won the blue ribbon for pie making in the junior division at the Ardmore County Fair every year since second grade.

  About the School: Kids who go to Feldspar are ultra brainy, ultra serious, and DO NOT LIKE TO LOSE. They will be tough to beat.

  Team 2

  Contestant 1: Veronica Hartman

  School: Old Harbor Academy

  The Video: Bakes shoofly pie with residents at the Ardmore Nursing Home. I can almost taste the molasses. Learned to bake from a French au pair who studied at the La Cuisine Paris Culinary Institute. Wants to start her own cooking school. Owns all the latest baking gadgets. Mentions Farnsworth products six times in the video.

  Contestant 2: Reginald Nestland

  School: Old Harbor Academy

  The Video: Turns desserts into works of art. Created and decorated sheet cakes of American Gothic and the Mona Lisa plus a portrait of Farnsworth. I’m not sure how they taste, but the presentation is amazing. His dream is to make an edible replica of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

  About the School: Old Harbor Academy has stomped on Sieberling School in every event for the last fifty years. Rumor: The school’s PTA flew in world-famous pastry chef Francois Furveau to coach Reginald and Veronica. They will be really tough to beat.

  Team 3

  Contestant 1: Jillian Mermelstein

  School: Sieberling School

  The Video: Not flashy, but it got Farnsworth’s attention. She is an excellent competitor who has the coolest grandma ever. Problem: She wants to make something simple for the contest, which is a huge mistake!

  Contestant 2: Me

  School: Sieberling School

  The Video: This is who they want me to be. I’m ready for it! According to Ms. Escobar, Mr. Farnsworth likes me! That is a big deal! Problem: Jillian doesn’t agree with my idea for a layer cake using the top four flavors of the past winning recipes. I must convince her before the big day.

  About Our School: I want to be Sieberling’s hero. That sure would impress Amy Eppington! Ms. Riedel may even skip the next grammar lesson. The school’s trophy case is filled with participation awards and “better luck next time” plaques. Jillian and I will do our best to change that!

  Jack analyzed his notes, made some calculations, flipped through his scrapbook for the thousandth time, and had a heart-to-heart chat with his Phineas Farnsworth III life-size cutout. He could tell why Farnsworth selected the other contestants: kittens, nursing homes, adorable triplets, his portrait, and an incredible bubbe.

  So why did he pick me? I know! It’s because I’m just like him! He sees a big future for me! It won’t be easy, but Jillian and I can win the Bakerstown Bonanza! I’m sure of it!

  Chapter 23

  Liz emailed the contestants and their families the schedule for the weekend event:

  Saturday, May 1 (Ardmore Heritage Day Festival)

  1. Arrive at the Culinary Arts Pavilion at the Ardmore County Fairgrounds (to the right of the Goat Barn) at 8 a.m. You will receive the official Bonanza chef’s hat and apron you will be required to wear at all times.

  2. The press conference for contestants and their families will begin at 9 a.m. Be prepared to answer questions about yourself and your baking background.

  3. The Ardmore Heritage Parade will begin at 1 p.m. at the fairground entrance. You will be riding on the Farnsworth Company float. At the end of the parade, you must be available to greet the public and sign autographs.

  Sunday, May 2 (Bonanza Day!)

  1. The Bakerstown Bonanza begins at 10 a.m. in the auditorium of the Samuel P. Ardmore Convention Center. (See map.) Basic ingredients such as sugar, butter, eggs, and milk will be provided. You are responsible for bringing all other special ingredients required to make your recipe.

  2. All contestants will bring one special item from home to help them in the contest. Prior to baking, you will give a short speech about the item. After baking, you will explain the recipe to Mr. Farnsworth.

  3. Contestants will have three hours to make their creation. Judging will take place promptly at 2 p.m.

  4. Prizes will be awarded once Mr. Farnsworth has tested and approved the winning recipe.

  Best of luck!

  Jack, Jillian, and Chad scanned Liz’s email. Jillian felt queasy about participating in the press conference and speaking at the Bonanza. Jack practically vibrated with excitement at the thought of finally meeting his idol.

  Chad pointed out the obvious problem his friends had yet to solve: “It says you’re responsible for bringing any special ingredients. How will you know what those are if you haven’t selected a recipe?”

  The Sieberling School teammates shrugged. Neither would budge on what they believed was the best choice: Jillian wanted to make the chocolate rugelach from her mother’s recipe book; Jack wanted to bake a four-layer cake.

  “Yours is too big,” Jillian argued.

  “Yours is too small,” Jack shot back.

  “Stop sounding like Goldilocks!” Chad said.

  “I know I’m right,” Jack said firmly. “My scrapbook does not lie.”

  “No, your scrapbook is wrong!” Jillian said, holding up the tattered recipe book and glaring at Jack.

  Chad stepped in between them.

  “Okay, you two. Enough arguing! I have an idea. Let’s do a baking challenge like on those reality shows.”

  “What?” Jack said.
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  “I’ll give you a challenge to bake something as a team. Whatever you come up with will be your recipe for the contest. This will force you to make a choice.”

  “Chad’s right,” Jillian said. “If we don’t have a recipe, we don’t have a chance.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said.

  “Look, to sweeten the deal I’ll do the interpretive beehive dance—in front of the entire school—if you’ll do this.”

  “How can you turn down that offer, Jack?” Jillian asked.

  “Fine, I’m in,” Jack agreed.

  “Super!” Chad said. “Let’s get started. I’ll pretend to be Francois Furveau from the Fab Food Network.”

  He paused for a moment before speaking in a screechy French accent: “Zee team from Zieberling School will make … an off-ze-wall cake! Surprise me! Delight me! Go nutty! It doesn’t even have to make sense! The zanier, the better! Work together and zee what happens. You must complete zis task in one, two, three hours!”

  “An off-the-wall cake?” Jack said.

  “Hey, I’m no foodie, bro. It was the only thing I could think of,” Chad said. “I mean, do not question zee great Francois Furveau! YOU WILL DO AS I COMMAND! I will set zee timer. Now … start your burners!”

  Jack stared blankly into an empty mixing bowl. His mind was equally empty—all the analysis from his scrapbook hopelessly locked deep in his brain.

  Zany? There is no pie chart for zany!

  With only days until the contest, Jack feared the moment he had waited for his whole life was crumbling around him. It had been easy watching the Bakerstown Bonanza from the safety of the front row. He never imagined it would be so hard when the pressure was on. Jillian tried to snap him out of his trance.

  “Do you still have any crickets stashed in the cupboard?” she asked.

  “Not funny,” Jack replied.

  Jack glanced up to see Bruce walking out of his bedroom door. He was wearing his most outrageous pair of golf pants yet—canary yellow and purple paisley squares with emerald diamond accents.

  That’s when it hit him.

  “Pants!” Jack exclaimed. “Bruce’s golfing pants! What’s crazier than that for a cake?”