by MJ Post
He met the crew by the elevator and they traveled to the pantry. On the ride down, Toby settled against the wall, felt the vibrations in his tired bones.
In the pantry, through waves of weariness, he saw a fresh ingredient among the fruit bins, and something clicked. The time for the dough to rise would be problematic, but Buster would have the same problem. Yes, he was decided.
∞∞∞
Time passed rapidly for Toby during the cook-off as he made his best beignets, New Orleans-style donuts with a dust of powdered sugar. To make them his own, and teach the audience about Southern cooking, he enhanced them with drizzled Jezebel sauce, a Deep South culinary delicacy made from fruit jellies and a mixture of horseradish, pepper, and mustard. Nearby him, Buster made a super-light angel food cake with a rhubarb topping. Using Derrick’s borrowed iPhone, he took a posed picture of Madame Queen and uploaded it to a food printer. There he printed a set of wallet-sized edible photographs, one to garnish each slice of his cake.
Food printers were gimmicky, Toby thought, but he couldn’t blame Buster for using this one. It played to his strength, after all. It might even get him the cook-off win.
“A tour de force, Chef Wayne,” Madame Queen said during judgment. “Faced with an ordinary ingredient, you brought in some uncommon ones from the pantry to add pizazz. As a performer, you have certainly triumphed. Shoot this, Vince.” She lifted one of the printed pictures of herself and bit off one corner. “This does not taste too good, however.”
“It’s just garnish,” said Buster.
“It is flattery. I love flattery. However, I love good food more. Mr. Vinci, taste this.” She handed a drizzled beignet from the table to cameraman Vince. The crew shifted to get a shot of Vince taking a bite, then quickly scarfed up the rest.
“What say you?” asked the judge when he had finished chewing.
Vince’s face nearly split from smiling. “I had beignets in New Orleans before, but with that sauce added, I’d have to say it’s my favorite pastry bite ever.”
“The cameraman echoes my sentiment,” said Madame. “The Jezebel sauce enhances an already perfect sweetbread. If I compare this to your cake, Chef Wayne — well, I do quite like the use of rhubarb, but the cake is significantly less decadent. This beignet,” and she lifted another, “could anchor a major city restaurant. Your cake could anchor a coffee shop. Win to Chef Brutus. No strikes awarded.”
Buster had lost but received no strike.
“Pack these up for me,” Madame told Derrick, gesturing at the beignets. “Also the sauce.” She indicated the cake. “For the crew breakfast.”
The taping ended. Cameramen hastily broke down their equipment and made good their escape. Toby was nearly staggering as he got to the elevator. Kacie got under his arm, and he leaned on her. “You didn’t save me a beignet,” she answered.
“Sorry. Shit, I’m so tired. Maybe I can make you a batch on the last day for your family. Listen, Eloise and Buster are working together now, trying to split us up. They didn’t get to you, right?”
“No. I told Eloise to back off you, actually.”
“You argued with her?”
“No, she gave up right away.”
They waited for an empty elevator. Alone with Kacie, holding her, Toby wondered about a kiss. Was it too soon?
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“So are you,” Kacie said.
He kissed her silken hair.
MADAME QUEEN’S CHEF SHOWDOWN
DAY 6
Winner: Kacie
Strike Two: Maryann
Strike One: Buster, Eloise, Kacie, Louie, Vegas
No strikes yet: Toby, Alia
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Surprise Guest
Toby slept like a dead thing till 5 AM, when he sat up staring. Some dream he couldn’t remember had set his heart racing. He had an aggressive erection. He lay trying to make sense of foggy feelings but could not reconstruct the dream. The erection passed.
Please, he thought. Please, let Kacie be nice today.
He remembered saying, “You’re beautiful,” and her answer, “So are you.”
What it meant for such a strong girl to say something so kind, so vulnerable!
Kacie: “I’ll take care of you.”
Perfect, perfect. There was a chance of a love affair, if only she didn’t change her mind. If only she would stay nice.
Could he get into the women’s room to see her? No, that was a bad idea. There were cameras. His intentions would be unclear to everyone watching, and he had no invitation. But he fantasized about creeping into her bed and curling up with her and feeling her willing arms around him.
It was so strange to be in love. The room, no, the world seemed to move at a different frequency. He was himself changed into someone incomplete, someone unsteady and unstable without that other person whose edges matched up against his own.
He went in the shower, came out and dressed quietly and discovered Vegas sitting up looking at him. It was strangely quiet; Buster had rolled over and for once was not snoring.
“Sorry about the noise,” he said.
“Nah, it’s okay. Let’s go get some coffee.”
In the common-room kitchen they worked the coffeemaker and then sat at the dining table.
“I’m getting restless without my family, man,” Vegas said. “I’m stir-crazy already. Not even a week yet. I didn’t know it would be like this, man. I’m worried about everybody at home, Yanel and the kids.”
“Yeah, I’m worried about my sister,” Toby said.
“Right, you’re single. You thinking about settling down some day, raising a family?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
“Man, it keeps you hopping. There’s no quiet time. Even in the middle of the night, you’re thinking about your kids, and the wife’s there, and women can TALK, man. Any time, day or night, it’s yappa yappa. You know?”
“You’d rather be single?” Toby asked.
“Nah, man. Not really.” Vegas took a deep gulp from his cup. “You and Eloise, you think?”
“No. She’s not my type.”
“Come on, Tobe. That girl is kickin.’ You know, she said you told her she was hot.”
“I said she could use her good looks on the show, not that I wanted her. I have no interest.”
Vegas’ eyes widened. “Seriously? I’d bang her all night. That girl’s glamorous. But, you know, I can’t. I’m married. My wife would pull my balls off.”
Toby pointed at one of the cameras on the wall.
“Nah, it’s so early. They can’t be on.”
“I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Huh. You think?”
“Hey, Shelley,” Toby said to the camera. “Take care of my friend’s marriage, and don’t put that on the air.”
Vegas cracked up. “Nah, that’s okay, man. My wife knows I got desires. We keep it at home. That’s why I got a big family.”
Toby went for another coffee.
“You figure we have a chance to win at all?” Vegas asked as he followed with his own empty cup. “Seems like Madame don’t even see me anymore, since I won the first day. You never won a dish challenge at all. She sees you, but she’s busting your balls. You think that’s better or worse?”
“I think it’s all an act for the show,” Toby said. “I told her that at dinner the other night.”
“Oh, yeah, man. How was that? Was she nicer?”
“Yeah, she was pretty nice, but Nina has always been hard to read. I never know what she’s going to say. So, if you want her attention, you should flatter her.”
“I can’t do phony shit,” said Vegas.
“It’s just a kind of code. Say something nice to her, and she’ll understand it means you want her to spend time with you. Besides, Nina really deserves the praise. She’s a great chef, with a big personality, and she beat all kinds of obstacles to get her success. Her family are all shit-heads, and when she came up, it was harder for w
omen to get respect in culinary. So if you praise her, it’s really true.”
Vegas shook his head. “I’m not feeling that, man. Can’t suck up.”
“Okay, then how about this. Play for the camera. Like when Kacie did the flambé yesterday. She told them to come tape it. You know, or like Buster starting arguments.”
“I can’t do that. The flashy stuff, like the flambé, that I can do. But I’m not a fighter, man. I’m a lover.”
Toby had an idea. “You want me to start a fight with you?”
“Huh?”
“I can come over and criticize what you’re doing, and you tell me to back off. Just some drama for the camera, that they might use when the show airs.”
“You mean you just come over and make up some shit, so we can yell at each other?”
“Exactly. Shelley said back on day one that we should be mean in sound-bytes. Buster’s been pushing the envelope and going to people’s stations to get attention. If he can, we can.”
“Yeah, right. He’s really going after Kacie. I don’t get that, really. One day she’ll chop his dick off.”
“He probably figured at the beginning that she was quiet and mousy because she’s Asian. You know that stereotype. So he got a rude awakening about that, but now I guess he’s still hoping she’ll decide to play along.”
“Could be, but she’s got some fire going on, so I don’t think so.”
They returned to the sofas. “So you’ll just start a fight with me over nothing?”
“Just for TV,” Toby said. “There’s no real beef, before or after.”
“Course not. Okay. Let’s do it.”
Louie emerged yawning from the dorm hallway. “Any more coffee?”
Toby signaled toward the kitchen. Louie poured a cup black and came to sit with them. “Hits the spot. How come you guys got up early?”
“I miss my family, man,” Vegas said. “It’s, like, weighing on my mind.”
Louie finished his coffee. “Want another pot?”
“You make it excellent. Why not?”
Toby had already had enough coffee, but he followed the two men back up to the kitchen. “How’s your iPod working out?” he asked.
“Oh, Alia has it. Helps her get to sleep. The music they put on it is all R&B. Not my style, anyway.”
“Do you get Internet?”
“They won’t give me the Wi-Fi password.”
“Boy’s got it bad,” Vegas said. “Giving away his prizes to his lady.”
Louie lowered his eyes. “Yeah. She’s really awesome. You know, we make each other laugh. That’s special. I just feel like a kid around her.”
Vegas chuckled. “Now, that ain’t right.”
“Why not?” Louie was suddenly serious.
“’Cause a woman wants a man, not a kid. You need to be a man around her if you want her.”
“But that wouldn’t feel right. I mean, shouldn’t a relationship evolve however it evolves? We’re having fun, so…?”
“Nah, man. You need to take charge of it. Be the boss.”
“Toby? What do you think?”
“I don’t have a lot of experience. I’m sort of on trial-and-error now.”
“Really?” Vegas said. “You have a girl somewhere? I thought you just moved here.”
Toby realized he didn’t want to discuss it with Vegas. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s help Louie.”
“Look,” Vegas continued. “Even if your woman is bossy or whatever, she still wants you to show her you can take charge. Make decisions and stuff. And that you can stand up for yourself. If you’re all tame and you’re a puppy, she won’t want your dick.” He added in falsetto: “‘What a nice guy, but I just get a friend vibe from him.’ Come on, Tobe, back me up here.”
“I can only be myself,” Toby said.
“Women talk about being swept away,” Vegas said. “They feel out of control before their orgasms, Lou. You follow? You have to sweep her away. She can be in control when dressing the kids or picking where to go for dinner, but when it comes to bed, you take charge and fuck her like it’s magic.”
Louie had begun to sweat. “You have a strange way of looking at things.”
“The right way, man. I’m married, and she wasn’t my first. You been getting any?”
“Well…”
“Then trust me.”
Toby was burned out on the conversation and retreated to the dorms. He met Alia in the hallway, stopped her. “You don’t want to hear what they’re discussing.”
“How come?”
“Trust me. Cough loudly before you get out there.”
Alia touched his arm. “You’re being mysterious this morning.”
“That’s just my Oxford charm. Kacie up?”
“Not yet.”
Toby went in and woke up Buster, who was scheduled to make breakfast, then showered, dressed, and hung around the hallway until Kacie and Maryann emerged. Toby and Kacie exchanged hand-squeezes.
They came to the end of the hallway. Maryann stopped, blocking them. “I see what’s going on with you two and Chef Hamilton. You’re all a lot of silly babies. Why do you want to play mind games and think about romance when you should be focusing on cooking?”
Toby thought of an expression he’d heard from Boris. “Work-life balance?”
Maryann snickered. “Ha! They took my life away from me when they took my phone. My sister’s having chemo, my brother’s in court, my husband is running our restaurant by himself and he says yes to everyone. Those are real problems, babies. Work-life balance? Bullshit. You can’t balance those. They both pile on till you can hardly breathe. That’s the truth, not who has a nose-to-nose with who, or who thinks who is cute.”
“You’re probably right,” Toby said. “But you must have been where we are once.”
“I was older and smarter.”
Buster, dressed and yawning, came down the hall toward them. “Ready for some pyramid-shaped eggs with pancake foam?”
“Nobody’s ready for that,” Toby offered. “Except maybe Grant Achatz.”
∞∞∞
The TV studio was noticeably colder than usual, with a large, only partially tarpaulin-covered display of crushed ice. A definitely fishy smell alerted Toby to what must be stored in the ice. So large a display, however, meant a lot of fish. Why so much?
Madame Queen had a sour look on her face as she strode in in an ankle-length tan leather jacket, tight jeans, and shiny red platform heels. “Derrick,” she called shrilly. “A large black coffee, a banana, not too hard, and two plums, washed.”
The AD wrote down the order on his clipboard and left.
“NOT in the mood. Get on your mark!” she shouted at Maryann, who was at her station organizing her knife set.
“I can hear you fine from over there,” said Maryann.
Madame Queen stared at her till she had closed the knife set and joined the others.
“It is often said — am I on-camera yet? Oh, come on, Shelley. Can we get started?”
A brief fuss with camera setups ensued, then, the boom man was on the phone with his pharmacy, and then they waited while the large wheeled camera panned the tarpaulin and crushed ice. At last Shelley gave the signal, and Madame Queen resumed.
“It is often said that if you want a thing done right, you must do it yourself. So it can be with the butchering of proteins. Your butcher does not consistently provide the cut and trim that you desire. Quality flesh is missing, and undesirable flesh remains for you to remove. Today, you face a test of your skills as a butcher. Today, you will break down your own large fish: a whole bluefin tuna!”
Still shots and mobile phone clips were shot of Madame removing the tarpaulin to reveal the mound of crushed ice and eight roughly equal-sized dark blue fish packed therein. Then more instructions were recorded.
“Each of you will be supplied with a digital timer. Activate it when you begin and stop it when you finish. I will rate how well you break down the fish into two top and tw
o bottom loins. I will also sample a cut of the bull, or otoro, the fatty highest-grade part beneath the bottom loin, to assess how well you are able to select a bite for me. After I have judged you, you are all welcome to take some to eat today, and the rest of the fish, including edible parts you have removed, will be donated to City Harvest.”
A commotion by the studio entrance caused Shelley to yell, “Cut!” She aimed some measured profanity over her shoulder at a knot of new arrivals.
“Sorry, Shelley,” said Shaun Kerr as he strode into Kitchen One.
“Oh, no,” said Madame Queen. “I told you, no!”
A broad, graying black man with a genial smile and a big belly had entered after the producer. He came forward to greet the director with a cupped handshake.
“Boris, don’t be an ass,” said Madame. He stepped toward her and they exchanged faux cheek-pecks, didn’t really touch.
Toby stepped off his mark to approach his mentor, Chef Boris Winfrey.
“Had to come see you, boy,” the restaurateur said as they hugged tightly. “You’ve come up in the world just like I told you. Just like I told you. Nina, you being hard on him?”
“That’s okay,” Toby said. “It’s good for me. Guys, come meet my second father.”
“Boris is here to meet with Lou,” said Shaun Kerr. “I brought him around just for a few minutes.”
“Shaun,” intoned Madame Queen. Derrick had returned with her breakfast, and she gesticulated with a banana. “He does not belong on MY show, just as he did not belong in any other phase of my life. I am very annoyed.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” said Winfrey. “I know I shouldn’t have. But someone, and his name rhymes with Tobias, did not call me before he came up here. I have so much, hmm, sage advice to impart.”
“Go on, then,” she said. “I’ll go to my office and sulk. You may visit me, if you plan to drop off a check.”
Some minutes were occupied with introductions. Shelley said finally, “Let’s put on the cameras. We’ll get some footage just in case we can talk Nina into approving it. All right with you?”