Bruce
Plate #2 is now being delivered to Big Poppa Judge.
Judge
I don't like this dish especially. Boiling the meat in milk was an inventive strategy, but you've drawn out any trace of flavor along with the smell. How would you have cooked this, Andreas?
Andreas
I'd try a citrus marinade.
Judge
Jane, would you just try the other plate of Belinda's food, please? The one meant for me?
Taster
Sure, boss. The hash is tomato-ey, but there's a residue of stink inside my mouth. It tastes kind of like a ratatouille made with expired meat.
Judge
Normally, I eliminate someone at this stage and leave a single chef to avoid being peeled away during the dessert round. But since there was a disruption, I will pass both of you to the final course.
Bruce
Contestants to your stations. David and Belinda, using ingredients in the U.I.B.'s in front of you, you must cook a masterful dessert. Now, in U.I.B. #1 you find … yellow raisins! And in U.I.B. #2, you find … everything bagels. And in U.I.B. #3 … extremely sour hard candies! And finally, in that large basket, #4, you find … mokele-mbembe sweetbreads!
Belinda and David (VO)
What the hell?
Andreas
Mokele-mbembe, that's moh-kay-lay-im-bem-bay, is a gigantic swamp-dwelling vegetarian sauropod that dwells in the deepest jungles of the Congo. Because of the ongoing civil war, violations of their territory have driven them from seclusion to the Congolese dinner plate.
Bruce
But that basket contains sweetbreads. What is that?
Andreas
Normally, sweetbreads means the pancreas and throat glands of the animal. There's no bread actually, but it's sweeter meat in its usual form, from a calf or a lamb. The mokele-mbembe isn't a mammal, so the organs are a little different. Instead of the pancreas, this basket contains … er …
David (on set)
It looks like a big brown basketball.
Andreas
Well, it is a ball. It's …
David (on set)
Seriously?
Belinda (on set)
Oh, no way. How am I supposed to cook that?
David (on set)
You gave us a brontosaurus testicle, man. That is so not cool.
Judge
Start cooking or forfeit!
Andreas
They should really go nuts with this dessert.
Bruce
Groan!
David (VO)
Okay, I've cooked regular sweetbreads, and I know they have to be soaked in salted water, then poached in milk.
Belinda (VO)
Then you peel off a membrane, and you can stuff it like a sausage, sort of. So I'll make a sweet stuffing and I'll use each half of the mokele-mbembe testicle as a bowl, with a caramel coating.
David (VO)
I'm soaking my dinosaur ball in a giant stewpot and meanwhile I crush the candy inside a plastic bag. And I'm thinking I can make a bread pudding with the sour candy powder, the raisins, milk and a little sweetbread meat.
Belinda (VO)
I start to reduce the hard candy with water and brown sugar to make the caramel. I add some butter and milk and I think I'm going to make pan perdu, with sliced everything bagels as the base.
Andreas
She's making pain perdu which is similar to French toast.
Bruce
What's the difference?
Andreas
Well, the name is different.
David (VO)
I switch the bronto ball into milk and I'm like, I hate to use milk for two courses, but oh well, I got to pull this off for my kids.
Belinda (VO)
I'm not going to be able to make bowls out of the halves, because the sides aren't stiff enough, so I give that up and instead I get sugar, eggs, salt, milk, and cream, and I take a scoop and start getting the tissue out.
Judge
Is she making what I think she's making?
Bruce
I think so.
Andreas
For the first time ever!
Belinda (on set, yelling over her shoulder)
Yes, I'm making brontosaurus testicle ice cream. It will be nice on my plate next to the pain perdu.
David (VO)
I get my bread pudding into the oven and then I think I'll use the bronto ball meat to make zeppole.
Belinda (VO)
I want to be careful not to over-churn my ice cream so I have to listen carefully to the sounds of the ice cream maker.
Taster
That is going to be really gross.
David (VO)
As I'm cooking the meat I see it is turning all sorts of colors from gray to brownish to white and yellow. There must be like fifty colors.
Andreas
Fifty shades of mokele-mbembe testicle.
Bruce
Oh, my inner goddess!
Andreas
Jeez!
Judge
Stay focused, please!
Belinda (VO)
The everything bagels have a lot of savory ingredients, including onions, garlic, and kosher salt. I'll embrace these by not putting too much sweetness into the pain perdu, but to make it soft, I trim away most of the crust which will be very chewy. But what am I going to do with the hard candy?
David (VO)
My zeppole dough is about ready and the water is boiling when I hear this scary bang. I'm like, is that a gunshot? I thought I got out of Compton already.
Belinda (VO)
My ice cream liquid is leaking out of the churn, and the machine stopped working, and I'm freaking out.
Andreas
Mokele-mbembe sweetbreads have a tendency to produce hard fibrous nodules, especially in mature animals. One of these has probably jammed our ice cream maker.
David (VO)
I watch Belinda scooping that mess till she finds what looks like a big damn stone and I'm like, any of those in my food?
Belinda (VO)
I'm running like crazy. I just get the churn going again and I need to start my pain perdu in the fry pan. So I go for more eggs and there's no more chicken eggs, but I see this other carton and I'm like, what the hell kind of eggs are those?
Bruce
Belinda has found our trademark Pantry Surprise for tonight's episode. This discovery brings with it a $500 prize and a ten-year subscription to High Times magazine. Tell us what she's found.
Andreas
Those are chupacabras eggs, Bruce.
David (later interview):
Daaaaamn!
Belinda (VO):
These eggs have green shells, and when I crack them open, there's, like, three yolks.
David (later interview)
Daaaaamn!
Andreas
Chupacabras, the legendary Mexican goat-suckers, are actually beakless monotremes, egg-laying mammals related to the platypus and echidna. Because of their ferocious natures, they engender three infants in each egg, one of which eats the other two during gestation.
Bruce
Have you ever eaten chupacabras?
Andreas
Yes, indeedy. Just last weekend Teddy and I split a yummy chupacabras quiche at Le Pup Chute. There are delightfully tender morsels near the cloaca.
Belinda (VO)
I don't know how these gross-looking eggs taste, but I'll just have to take a chance. My ice cream may not come out, so the pain perdu has to be perfect. I miss Zhenk like soooo much now. I'm cutting the bagels and my knife still smells like skunk ape. It's really annoying! Then I realize I didn't taste my hard candy caramel. I taste it and it is really mouth-puckeringly sour. And I'm still worried about my ice cream. I'm scooping it out and it is really runny, so I'll give it some time in the blast chiller.
David (VO)
I taste one of my zeppole and it is really sweet, but the meat is soft and tasty. And
then I'm like, ow, because one of those stones got into my food. I hope the taster and judge don't get none. My bread puddings have set nicely and that's the main thing. I put some fresh sage on top for a deeper flavor profile.
Bruce
Time's up!
Belinda (VO)
I just barely got everything onto the plate. I could only use a little caramel drizzle. It was so sour!
Judge
Let's move forward, please. I want to get this show wrapped up.
Bruce
Belinda, you'll go first this time. Bring plate #1 to the Official Taster.
Belinda (on-set)
No hard feelings, right?
Taster
Naah. Listen. (Whispers in Belinda's ear.)
Bruce
The taster is first sampling the mokele-mbembe sweetbread ice cream. She's nodding. It's not poisonous. No smile, though. Now she's taking knife and fork to the pan perdu.
Taster
This drizzle is really sour.
Belinda (on-set)
Yeah, sorry.
Taster
Okay, pass it on.
Judge
I think this ice cream could have used a little vanilla. And I had to spit out at least one stone. The pain perdu is a mixture of garlic and extremely tart flavoring that is very harsh on my tongue. But using the ice cream maker, you did manage to soften the fibrous meat in the sweetbread, and coax some better flavor out of a food that normally tastes like a stale kitchen sponge. Let's go on to the other dish, please.
Bruce
David, bring your dish to the official taster.
David (on-set)
Remember, lady, I didn't pull your hair or scratch you, right?
Taster
That's already forgotten, pal. Just describe it.
David
This is a bread pudding with bagels, sour candy, raisins, and some sweetbread, and on the plate next to it is a zeppola that also has some sweetbread meat in it.
Bruce
The taster is taking a bite of the bread pudding filling. She's wincing a little at the tartness. Now she's smiling. She's used to sour mouthfuls.
Andreas
Just stop. Stop.
Bruce
Okay, okay. Now she's putting the long thin cylindrical zeppola into her mouth. Do you think it's creamy inside?
Judge
Now I'm serious. Cut it out!
Bruce
Yes, sir!
Andreas
She's chewing the zeppola. She's removing a stone.
Taster
The sage is a nice addition. Pass it on.
Judge
I'm interested to try this one. I'll start with the zeppola. It's a little dry. The meat is unflavored. It's a little slimy, to be honest. The bread putting has set nicely, which isn't easy given our time limit. The filling has a pretty good balance between sweet raisins and tart candy with the savory from the bagel making it hearty. Okay. I've decided. Call in the kids.
Bruce
Here they come again, the Paring Knife Kids, with their tiny blades. They're standing close to both Belinda and David.
Judge
And the person who will be peeled away by the paring knife is … Belinda!
Belinda
Son of a bitch!
Bruce
One of the kids nicked her right away, in the hip. Oh, she's pushed him down. She's running now. She's limping. She's running toward -- no, you're not allowed to hide behind us, Belinda. No, kids, look out, don't stop, you'll -- aaaaieeee!
(A wild blow from a paring knife has impaled Bruce's hand. Zhenk pulls Andreas down on top of her. Confusion. Camera wobble.)
David (off-camera)
I didn't want to win like that …
Judge
Jane, you told her to do that! I should fire you.
Taster (in front of the camera)
Sure, I told her to do it. He had it coming. He only had himself to blame.
(Fade Out)
(Announcer VO)
Join us next time with special guest judges Grover Krantz Jr. and Indrid Cold. Next on Underground Food Network, it's Underground Food Challenge as Chef Ronnie Spray challenges Bernie H. for a beachside globster barbecue battle.
Night Train
You follow the throng of people into a crowded tunnel, wedged in like cattle being herded toward the narrow exit. By the time you finally emerge, the parking lot is empty except for scattered trash and a few remaining cars. The people exiting with you turn up their collars to the wind and scurry away like roaches caught lurking on the kitchen floor when the light comes on.
Tall fences surround the lot, topped with inescapable Constantine wire and no foreseeable exits. Behind you, the tunnel's security door slams shut with an echoing clang. You follow the fence, hoping to find an attendant or a phone, hoping to find a way out.
Plumes of white smoke curl into the air ahead, spiraling toward the stars before fading in the cold night air. As you approach, you see what appears to be a strong spotlight beneath the smoke, glaring forth, illuminating two rows of strong wooden tracks. It is a train, a massive black shining train that grunts and hisses like a restrained beast, eager to shake off the bonds of its brakes and take off. There is a gate by the train engine and you come around the side to look up at it, a King class, larger than any you've ever seen.
Your father fancies steam trains. He says the world lost something when it gave up the geared steam locomotives, when the Shay and the Willamette and the Climax and the Heisler were retired to the scrapyards in place of foul-smelling diesel and … electric.
"Fi wunted t' ride aroun' in a bloody tin-can opener, I'd bloody well do it, wouldn't I? Tha's no train, love. Real trains had fancy dining cars where ye wore yer best clothes an' men asked ladies t' dance. You could sleep an' eat an' see all the world by 'em, an' when ye arrived, ye felt like ye'd travelled. I don' care how long ye fly or how fast ye drive te wherever ye go. Nowadays ye step inside an electric box at Wales and step off of the box in Paris an' nobody knows any different. By train, well, a good and proper steam train, ye knew ye'd travelled."
You hear your father's words as you look up at that gears and boiler of the enormous machine and wish he was there with you to see it. A smartly-dressed conductor appears at the footsteps leading up to the first passenger car and calls out, "All aboard!"
He looks down at you curiously with a mischievous, cocked eyebrow, his slight smile arched just above the braids of his beard. He taps his metal-ringed fingers together to wave you along and says, "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to try and walk back."
"No, sir," you say as you race up the steps, relieved to have found your guide and relieved to be getting on board. He waves you toward your seat and says, "Next stop, the place where we first met. I believe if you hurry, you will still have time to see the trapeze artists."
The train's wheels begin to turn and the conductor sounds the whistle, the rhythmic clattering of the tracks and the slight rock of the passenger car set you at ease. "It must be late. I suppose I should get home."
"As you wish," he says, with the slight bow of his head. "Have you seen all that you wished to see?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Most excellent, because there was nothing else left anyway."
You laugh as he takes off his conductor's hat and bows low, nearly sweeping his hand against the floor, "Thank you for your patronage. Perhaps someday, you will find another young person who needs to be reminded of the mystery and majesty of this world. I trust that you will remember what to tell them to bring."
"Always," you say. "I'll always remember."
"Excellent," he says. "Next stop, home."
You think of your sister. Her laugh is not quite so musical as it once was. Her drawings are now all colorless skies and houses with dark windows. You have not seen her play with her toys in quite some time, as if the spark of imagination has gone out for her. You never noticed before, but it had gone out i
nside of you as well.
You think of your sister, and also your father, and the stark reality that has set in on them. The time has come to put that to an end, you decide. There is magic and there is mystery. It is not always safe, and never predicable, and often quite nerve-wracking, but then if it wasn't, it would not hold any meaning.
You lean your head against the cool glass window to watch the lights of distant villages pass by and the shifting landscape of trees and mountainsides. You can make out strange shapes in the dark countryside, large, lumbering figures that move slowly and small, sharply-clawed beasts that leap and prowl. Ancient, majestic beings that walked the earth long before humanity, and are wise enough to keep their distance. In the mountains and lakes and forests and fields, a thousand things to fill the imagination, so long as one is bold enough to look.
They will never be found and never be studied, never be classified and never be revealed. They will fascinate and disappoint generations of people desperate with desire for ever-increasing doses of reality. But as you now know, reality is not such a fine thing. The creatures called the cryptids belong to the imagination, always in the peripheral, never standing still long enough to become ordinary or common.
And you are glad for that.
You are ever, ever, so glad for that.
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Carnival of Cryptids (Anthology to Raise Funds for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children) (Kindle All-Stars Book 2) Page 15