by MJ Post
“Seems you don’t control your fate in this challenge,” said Madame Queen. “I doubt you will be selected, either. The stink of death is upon you already.”
One by one, the chefs picked their lots. Kacie got number two. After they all showed their numbers, Shelley called for a break. “You three picking, just be sure you don’t pick someone who has a number,” the director told them. “That would spoil our little scheme, right?”
While Shelley conferred with the cameramen, and another crewman checked over the workstations, Kacie considered her options. Buster had number one, so he wasn’t an option, and neither was whomever he selected. Louie had number three, so he couldn’t be picked either. Kacie had a good chance to win with Eloise, but she was still embarrassed about the scene she had made earlier. Alia was easy to get along with and a great chef, so she would make a great pick. Kacie didn’t know anything about Vegas’ style. Maryann, with a strike already that she hadn’t really deserved, wouldn’t be well-focused. And then, there was Toby. They both liked to cook spicy dishes, but would she be too distracted if she worked with him? Probably, and given how much they were bickering, so would he. She went to Alia and whispered, “I want to pick you, is that okay?”
Alia put her head close to Kacie’s. “I’d love to work with you, but let Louie pick me.”
“Okay, if you say so. But remember, Buster might pick you.”
“Inshallah, he won’t. I hope he doesn’t pick YOU. Imagine what that would be like.”
They had a slight giggle.
Shelley shouted, “Okay, find your marks. One, two, three, line up in the front row, in that order. On the left, Chef Wayne. No, MY left. Are you ready, Madame?”
Madame Queen had been tapping at her smart phone. She slipped the phone into an inconspicuous pocket in her garment and moved to her place. “How is the light, Ricky?” she asked.
“It’s good, Madame,” Ricky responded as he knelt and readied his shot.
“Okay, I’m clear,” Shelley called. She was now outside the taped boundary on the floor. “In three, two, and one. Go.”
“It is time to learn your fates for today’s signature dish challenge,” said Madame Queen. “Chef Wayne, you have drawn number one. You must now select your partner. Choose wisely.”
Buster grinned and started to look at the other five chefs behind him.
“Don’t turn around,” Shelley announced. “The camera is framed on your face.”
He coughed, straightened. “Sorry. Can you edit that out?”
“Obviously,” said the director. “Time’s a wasting. Someone here probably needs to pee, remember? Get on with it.”
“Yeah.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “Okay. My partner today is going to be the perfect partner for me, someone who appreciates new and trendy food concepts. And she’s smoking hot, too. I choose Chef Hamilton.”
The camera tilted to capture Eloise’s reaction. Kacie didn’t see it, since she was too smart to turn around as Buster had. She saw Vince signaling to her that she was about to be on. Who would she pick? Maybe Maryann would be good after all.
“Chef Lee,” said Madame Queen. “You drew the lot marked two. Your selection determines your fate and the fate of one competitor. What do you say?”
“I’m choosing someone I know is interested in learning how to cook Korean food,” she said. “So I’ll let him sit at the food of the Chef Lee learning tree. I pick Chef Brutus.”
When she was sure the camera was off her, she turned to look at Toby. He was grinning like a clown.
Louie’s turn came, and he selected Alia, explaining that she was really easygoing like him, and their similar temperaments would make it easy for them to work together.
That left Maryann and Vegas as a team.
“Cut,” said Shelley. “Okay, everyone a pee break. Back in five, interviews in the lounge.”
Toby made a bee-line for Kacie. “Thank you,” he said, and then, “You can trust me.”
“Yeah, I know. I know you want to win. Listen, I’m sorry about before. The crack about pouting, and about Eloise.”
“No, it’s nothing. My mom and Lillian both say I pout. Don’t worry. Inside I’m a rock. So let’s talk about what to cook.” There was a sense of relief in his face; his eyes looked clearer.
Kacie felt like stroking his cheek. She noticed he didn’t explain anything about Eloise. Was that an oversight, or was he just trying to avoid lying about it? But he’d already kind of said he had nothing going with her. “I’ll take the pee break first. Back in five.”
In the Kitchen One restroom, dark and cramped, she thought about the young man’s puppy-dog look, which made her want to climb him like a tree, and then forced her attention to a possible menu for the dish challenge. She didn’t know the cuisine of the South any better than he knew Korean. She could make a Koryo burger deluxe and spice it up, and that would go well with anything he could make in an hour, but was that showing off her personal style enough?
As she emerged, a staffer in a pink button-front shirt and with a clipboard intercepted her. What was his name again? Oh, yeah, Derrick. “Interview,” he said.
Kacie went back into the bathroom and splashed water on her face before going to sit in the interview chair. She hadn’t worn makeup since high school, having naturally good skin and no need to prepare for an office job. Her hair was tied back, and the visor was restraining it from her eyes.
“So why’d you pick Chef Brutus?” Shelley asked when the camera was on.
“We’re all about seasonings and spices, both of us, and he already said he wants to learn Korean. I’d like to learn Southern cooking too. I studied culinary in New York, so I didn’t get to learn it.”
“Will you two get along all right? Are you compatible?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“But you’ve had some arguments already in the short time you’ve been here.”
How annoying that Shelley knew about those arguments! Who was monitoring those cameras and checking the video? “I know we’ve had some arguments, but we’re just nervous. It’s nerves.” A little bullshit about the judge might get her some TV time. “You know, I respect Madame Queen so much and I want to impress her, so I might be a little psyched out, but just a little.”
“Which competitor team do you think is the one to beat?”
“I think Louie and Alia. Because of Alia. I’m really impressed by how she seasons fish. And she really keeps her cool, I mean, all the time.”
“Great. Thanks, Chef Lee.” To the staffer: “Derrick, get Chef Kamara.”
Back in Kitchen One, Kacie went to locate her station. It was labeled with her and Toby’s names, his first because alphabetical by last name. She looked at his knife set: old and shabby, Wusthof’s like hers, but a more low-end set with tape on several of the handles. Maybe she should let him use hers while they were teamed. Where was he? She’d offer.
He was over by another station, and he was talking to Eloise. Of course. As soon as he saw her, he broke from the blond and rushed to the station. “Okay, let’s talk menus.”
“Nothing going on with Eloise, huh?”
“No. She’s not excited about cooking with Buster, so she asked me to talk her through it.”
“Right.”
“Right, that’s all it was.”
“But you do think she’s hot, right?”
“Trust me, I got sick of striking out with cheerleaders in high school, and that’s not my thing at all. Anyway, she’s all business. She’s here to win. A real hard charger.”
“Well, so am I. I have no idea how you’re going to beat either of us, big guy.” He got a deer-in-the-headlights look at her words; Kacie felt she just had to touch him at that moment. So she patted his cheek, as she had once before. It was a tried and true strategy for her – if she couldn’t have a man, she would make fun of him. “Okay, so let’s plan? You first.”
As they discussed, the focus came to be rice. He seasoned it heavily, in the Sou
thern tradition. In the Korean tradition, she left it to stand on its own merits. What would happen if a Korean topping went onto a spicy Southern rice dish? Would there be a flavor overload or a harmonious blend?
“I can make samgyeopsal,” Kacie said. “Grilled pork belly with vegetable garnish. We’ll adjust the spice level so it compliments your rice dish.”
“My best rice has some heat,” Toby said.
“Yeah, I understand that. Usually Korean cuisine uses plain white rice. So most of the flavor comes from the main dish. We’ll just balance so that my pork harmonizes with your rice.”
“Okay. So maybe a red rice with pepper sauce, my creole spice blend. Onion, pepper, celery, garlic, green chilies. Usually I’d make it with shrimps. You want shrimps?”
“What’s in your creole spice blend?”
“Red stuff. Paprika, cayenne. Also black pepper, onion, thyme. Garlic powder.”
“Sounds good. Mix that up and I’ll use it on the pork.”
More interviews went by in a blur. Madame Queen went from station to station giving off-camera pep talks about how important it was to impress her.
“Are you certain you have the right partner, Chef Brutus?” she asked Toby.
“If the situation was reversed, I would have picked her.”
“Ah well. To each his own.”
“Nina, trust me. You always used to.”
“What is my name?”
“Okay, fine. Madame Queen, you always used to trust me, right?”
“My ex-husband did. I was along for the ride.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t.”
“I trust him,” Kacie inserted. The truth was that she didn’t, but Nina Lestrade was being palpably cruel, and it demanded a response.
“Ah, the folly of youth.” The judge moved on.
“Bitch,” Kacie said privately to her partner. “Was she always like this?”
“She’s an egomaniac, but I did some fill-in gigs at her restaurant and she always took care of her people, so I know she has a heart. My guess is this is a put-on for TV, and she’s staying in character off-camera too. If I get her alone, I’ll be able to get a better read. They aren’t going to make that easy, though.”
“I know. I don’t like her talking down to me, but it must be worse for you because you used to be friendly.”
“I can handle it.”
After a long period of camera set-ups, the eight chefs were dispatched to the pantry to gather their ingredients. It was already late afternoon – Shelley urged them to be time-efficient. Kacie had a hard time finding cuts of pork belly she really liked. She complained loudly. Shelley filmed that, then told her that the best pork belly had already gone upstairs to be used at a taping starring Hammer Chef Japanese, Yuina Tsukuda.
Cooking was frustrating. Both were focused on their own shares of the work, and whatever was said had to be repeated. Kacie asked him three times to turn the meat while she was chopping vegetables. The camera picked up this particular flub, and several others. At one point, though, Toby said, “Hey, Ricky, shoot this.”
“Yuh,” Ricky answered, and angled the camera.
Toby took a taste of Kacie’s pork belly and made an mmm-mmm noise. “Love the fragrance,” he said right at the camera.
“Yeah, yours is okay, too,” she said lamely. “I never used to like cayenne before, but you changed my mind.”
When Ricky had moved on, and both were stirring, Kacie asked, “What was that about?”
“Going for more TV time. A chef tasting food and liking it, right? Herschel told me I’m supposed to act like I’m boyfriend material, that that will make me popular.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you boyfriend material, mister? Or is that just a bunch of bullshit?”
“Depends who’s asking.” He grinned, lifting a spoon to taste his own food. “I never thought of myself that way, but after TV, things might change. Lillian says just the fact of being on TV makes people think you’re better than you are. What about you? Are you girlfriend material?”
“I don’t care about that. I’m here to win.”
“Well, you’re good enough to.” He gave her a small squeeze on the round part of her shoulder, let his fingers linger. The touch was electric. No one outside her family had touched Kacie kindly in years. No one, no one had supported her or believed in her. No one as hot as this man had ever touched her. How could this drawling stranger possibly…
No, it wasn’t comfortable. It only felt right because she was so anxious, so vulnerable. She cut him off as quickly as she could. “Thanks. You too. Hands off now. Let’s cook.”
He moved his hand. “To be continued?” he asked.
“Louie is making elk ragu for Alia tomorrow night,” Kacie told him. “I’ll share a bowl with you, but that’s as far as it goes.”
She turned her back on him and returned to the cooking. It was only luck no camera had witnessed their flirting. Kacie cursed herself. Why was she letting her feelings show for this handsome jackass? He even knew he was good-looking, and he was using it, charming her, God knew why.
Kacie and Toby got their food plated well ahead of the other teams and had enough to set aside for themselves when time allowed. An earthenware bowl of spicy rice with three-layer pork on top, and a side of bean sprouts from her and a side of okra from him, all laid out on a lacquered wooden tray with a metal fork to represent Toby and a hard plastic rice spoon to represent Kacie. Still photos were taken of the food from various angles, and of each of them holding the tray, before it was set down on a table in front of a lighting display. Three other trays accompanied their dish.
Buster and Eloise had served up a panzanella salad with grilled chicken and something gelatinous as a garnish. Louie and Alia delivered a turkey pesto and hoppin’ john combination. Vegas and Maryann had a southwestern-flavored stir-fry and soft buns with a taco dipping sauce. Kacie and Toby stood together looking them over, taking a deep whiff of each. They lingered on the work of Vegas and Maryann.
“Winner?” Toby suggested.
“Not us?” asked Kacie.
“Them or us.”
Shelley took each team to the lounge in turn for joint interviews.
“Would you like to work together again?” the director asked.
“Definitely,” said Toby. “We had lots more ideas we didn’t use today.”
“We’ll see,” said Kacie. “We have a lot we can teach each other, but I want to work with some of the other competitors too, especially Alia.”
Over an hour was spent filming segments in which Madame Queen tasted each dish and made opaque comments about it. After the last of these, she invited everyone to meet her upstairs for dinner.
The chefs and crew assembled in the common room and dining room, where a huge tureen and stacks of bowls and spoons had been transported in advance. “Let’s dig in, children,” said Madame Queen.
Louie announced, “On behalf of all my colleagues, I think our cameramen should be served first. They did a great job today.”
“I’ll second that,” Toby called out.
“Me, too,” Eloise called.
Madame Queen nodded, her lips curled in mild pleasure. “Shelley, shall we do the honors?”
Vince, Ricky, and the rest of the crew lined up for their portions of gumbo, ladled into the bowls by the judge and handed out by the director. Kacie and Toby had wolfed their own creation before heading up, so they were more than willing to hang back and wait their turns.
The gumbo was heavenly. The common room was full of happily chatting contestants and staffers. Showrunner Shaun Kerr made a brief appearance, shook everyone’s hand and said good luck at judging, talked Knicks and Cavs with Buster, and retreated.
After dinner, the chefs and crew returned to Kitchen One for a final recording session. “I have chosen a winner,” said Madame Queen. “The winner’s prize today, yours to own and availab
le for the remainder of the competition, is this Victorinox Executive Professional Knife set.” She gestured toward a table, where a crew member set down an unboxed black cloth satchel and unfurled it to reveal some of the most beautiful knives Kacie had ever seen.
Ten minutes of filming and still photography followed. Then Madame Queen proceeded. “The winning dish is this.” She tapped the table near Maryann and Vegas’ dish. “And the winner, for good quality food and the proper humble attitude, is ... Chef Vegas!” She made a dramatic flourish.
They filmed Vegas with the knife set.
“Now, we shall have an ingredient challenge featuring the crafters of the losing dish. And that dish is…”
She lingered next to Kacie and Toby’s dish, then moved swiftly to rest her hand next to the plate of Eloise and Buster.
The camera moved to show the reactions of the losing chefs. Eloise frowned slightly, showing cracks in her recently refreshed makeup. Buster’s face fell, and he sighed and mouthed, “Bullshit, man.”
∞∞∞
The shooting went late into the night as Buster and Eloise battled to make great dishes with organ meats. The other six competitors stood and watched. Three chefs, Toby, Vegas, and Alia, were taken to the pink lounge to deliver sound-bytes. Louie was excused to prep for the morning’s breakfast; he was going to make some Roman-style hot pockets. In the end, Eloise won the challenge with her ground lamb and beef heart burger, and Buster lost a point with his chicory and chicken foot brittle with tomato ice cream.
The crew were sent home. Madame Queen gave each chef a tender handshake and left. Shelley said, “Good work, people. We could just have a hit on our hands. You’re fast learners, you are. See you in the morning.”
In the dorm hallway, Toby stopped Kacie, touched her arm delicately. Her impulse was either to collapse into his arms with fatigue, or to back away to escape him. She just stood and looked at him, at his kind eyes, at the dark sweat clinging to the top of his shirt and red apron. “We should have won,” he said.
“We should have.”
“You were great,” he added.
“I like your flavors a lot,” she answered. “If we work together again, stay stubborn. We’ll do better that way.”