Chef Showdown_A Romance

by MJ Post

  ∞∞∞

  When Steve Lee finally emerged from the corridor and headed for the elevators, Toby was sitting on the sofa worrying. Some of his worry dissipated when he saw that the older man had a soft sort of smile on his face. Steve Lee was walking with more ease and confidence than before. “I’ll call your sister,” he said over his shoulder.

  Kacie came out moments later. “Good luck tonight,” she said to Toby. “We need to have a long talk after it’s over.”

  “Sure. You forgave me for talking to your dad?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  ∞∞∞

  The ingredient was sapodilla, a tropical fruit that looked like a kiwi and tasted like root beer and brown sugar. Toby had never seen one before. Eloise wrinkled her nose; apparently, she hadn’t either.

  A sweet fruit could either assist a light savory dish, or go into a dessert. Toby tasted one of the sapodillas and found it slightly astringent; he didn’t want to dry out the judge’s mouth. The dryness reminded him a little of red wine. Could he use the sapodillas where wine would go?

  He figured he could craft a good Marsala sauce - chicken Marsala had been on Boris’ menu as a special once in a while. He’d still use some wine, but the sapodillas would enhance the sweetness. Okay, he’d try that. What was good with Marsala sauce?

  Eloise went the dessert route. She was pulling out all the stops, making tartlets, muffins, and ice cream. Fine, let her divide her attention among three dishes hoping at least one of them appealed to Nina. He would gamble with a single dish.

  After two hours of cooking time, he laid out a plate of pork chops and Brussels sprouts covered with Marsala sauce prominently accented with sapodillas. He added a wine cooler accented with the same fruit.

  “A fine outing from you both,” said Madame Queen after tasting. “Chef Brutus, when enhanced with the sapodilla, this sauce is better than my ex-husband’s. Chef Hamilton, the tartlets and muffins were delectable, and I do appreciate a decaf cappuccino, of course. However, I am weary of ice cream. Therefore, strike two to you.”

  It was only then that Toby realized.

  “Damn,” he said to Kacie as they left Kitchen One. “I was nearly out.”

  “Yeah, I was biting my nails,” Kacie said. “You didn’t seem too stressed.”

  “With two strikes, and considering how good Eloise is, I could have lost easily.”

  More chefs joined them to wait for the elevator.

  “If you hadn’t made the ice cream, you would have won,” Toby said to the blond.

  “Yeah, but I did make the ice cream.” She smiled faintly. “See you in the finale.”

  MADAME QUEEN’S CHEF SHOWDOWN

  DAY 10

  Winner: Buster

  Eliminated: Louie

  Strike Two: Toby, Maryann, Kacie, Vegas, Eloise

  Strike One: Buster

  No strikes yet: Alia

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Opa!”

  Prior to her father’s surprise visit, Kacie had had another adventure in the kitchen.

  She had been miserable all through day ten’s ice cream challenge, figuring that since Madame Queen had begun to clean house, that Toby would be eliminated. The announcement of the cook-off made her turmoil worse. It was a perfect dramatic pairing for an elimination. Who better to beat him than Eloise, who had already been his rival before and who had tried to gain his romantic attention as well?

  After the challenge, when most of the competitors had gone for interviews or to freshen up, she lingered by Toby’s pots, took a scoop of the remaining food with one finger. It was good.

  “How are you doing?” Eloise asked from next to her.

  “I’m fine. Just worried about you guys in the cook-off tonight.”

  “Yeah. I understand. I want to talk to you about that.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I don’t need any advice.”

  “You do, though. Think about it carefully. Now that Louie is out, now that Madame said she’s going to start eliminating people, there will be fewer and fewer people left to get eliminated instead of us. And you know how good Toby is. Don’t you see that he’s serious competition for both of us?”

  “Yeah, he is, Eloise. But so what? If he and I have to go against each other, we just both do our best and let Madame Queen pick whoever she wants to pick.”

  “But think about it. If it came down to you and him, as crazy about him as you are, wouldn’t you be tempted to mess up just a little, to help him win? Because – listen, I know how women in love are. You’ll think it doesn’t matter who wins, the relationship is more important. Won’t you think that?”

  Kacie was immediately aware that there was a pot of now-room-temperature chocolate sauce on the station to her left, and a tray of handmade powdered-sugar-dusted fritters next to it. They were leftovers from the dish that had eliminated her friend Louie. “Look, I don’t want to hear it, okay?”

  “I’m trying to help you think it through, Kacie,” the blond said. “I want you to understand that if you keep thinking with your g-spot, you’ll lose your competitive edge. You’ll psych yourself out, and you’ll decide to let Toby beat you without even questioning if that’s okay.”

  “Number one, no I won’t. Number two, when I went against him before, I won. So either Madame Queen will give him the win the second time for suspense, or else she’ll decide I’m better than he is.”

  “And if you beat him twice, how will he feel about that?”

  Kacie had to think about this. It could be a problem. “I think he’ll say that was what Nina wanted and it doesn’t mean anything about us.”

  “Or it will sting him and he’ll lash out at you. Kacie, try to understand. I’m telling you why it’s so dangerous for you to convince yourself you’re in love with a man you’re competing against. What I just said was bound to occur to you eventually. It might tempt you to give up your win just to keep him.”

  “I thought you were sure you were going to win. You told Toby that, didn’t you?”

  “I did, yes.”

  Kacie felt heat rising in her chest. Enough of her rival’s manipulations! “Changed your mind?”

  “I’m just laying out a hypothetical to help you, Kacie.”

  “Okay, fine. Here’s a hypothetical situation for you, Eloise. You play this mind game. I believe you and start acting different. Toby notices and we have a fight. Then you move back in on him again. Does that sound like what you have in mind?”

  “I’m not that immature,” said Eloise. “This is just girl talk now. Even before I was in the industry officially, I used to hang around in kitchens with my dad, and I watched women sacrifice their careers for men. Sure, I think Toby’s attractive - very attractive, if we’re being honest -- but I’m not giving up any professional opportunities because of that. You said he’s yours. I accept that. But I wonder if you can handle what that means.”

  Kacie took a step to her left and lifted the pot of chocolate sauce. There was a large spoon in it. She scooped some chocolate onto the spoon.

  “Did you taste that?” Eloise asked. “I was wondering if it set right.”

  “Here,” Kacie said. “Taste it.” She flung chocolate off the spoon and into Eloise’s face, where it speckled her elegant chin and perfect pink lips. “Here, taste some more.” She scooped and flung additional chocolate. This clumped into Eloise’s hair. “Hey, looks like it didn’t set right.”

  Eloise raised a hand. “You know, I do have a cook-off tonight. Maybe this was the wrong time to talk to you.”

  Kacie moved toward her with the pot raised and tilted to dump over her head.

  “Come on, don’t,” said Eloise. She backed up, found a saucepan on the stove of the station behind her. It was Toby’s apple-blueberry compote. “Look, we’re grown-ups.”

  “Yeah, and this grown-up is going to kick your grown-up ass.”

  Eloise quickly heaved a batch of the contents of the saucepan in front of her. Most of it went on the floor, but so
me found its mark on Kacie’s visor and in her hair. Sticky juices ran down her cheeks.

  “Oh, it’s on,” Kacie said. She scooped chocolate into her right palm and threw the pot away and rushed at Eloise.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Eloise shouted as Kacie’s chocolaty hand smashed directly into her cheek. They pushed back and forth. Kacie stumbled. Eloise scooped more compote into her hand and flung it at Kacie’s face. Direct hit. The compote smelled great, but it got into Kacie’s eyes and she lost track of where Eloise was until a shove sent her backwards. She slipped on something on the floor, probably compote, and fell sideways, caught herself on the countertop of a cook station.

  “Okay,” Eloise said somewhere nearby. “Let’s stop, let’s stop. We’re just blowing off some steam. We can stop, we can stop.”

  Loud footsteps were approaching the area rapidly. Feeling around, Kacie found a rag on the countertop and dabbed her eyes.

  “Ladies,” Ozzy said. “Ladies, hang on, now. You could get hurt. You could hurt each other.”

  “I don’t care,” Kacie said. “I want to shut her mouth once and for all.”

  “It’s shut,” Eloise said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. I thought it was good advice. I’m sorry.”

  “Chef Hamilton, you might want to go get ready for the cook-off,” said Ozzy. “Chef Lee, let’s hang here for a bit and talk.”

  When Eloise was gone, Kacie explained to Ozzy the whole history of the rivalry.

  “Well, how about that,” the security man said when she had finished her story.

  It was after this that Kacie went upstairs to shower, and shortly after that, her father arrived.

  Late that night, lying in bed exhausted from the complex events of the day, Kacie wondered whether her tussle with Eloise had distracted the blond enough to cause her to lose the sapodilla cook-off. If it had, that wasn’t fair — but Eloise had had it coming.

  ∞∞∞

  Fatigue was great, and spirits low, the next morning as the seven remaining chefs lined up on their marks for the eleventh day of the competition. Eloise and Kacie had spoken to each other normally upon rising in the morning; there was no residual anger from the food fight. In fact, they had even shared a coffee at the dining room table.

  Madame Queen marched in wearing jeans and an orange top accented expertly with a large black and amber bead necklace. She looked them over, adjusted Buster’s collar, and left.

  Kacie thought she knew what was coming. She had told Toby over breakfast. The two of them therefore were not surprised when Celeste and Matt, suits and name-tags the same as twice before earlier, entered Kitchen One, and then, a moment behind them, came the beaming, strutting, ponderous form of Hammer Chef Greek, Alastair Rokos. He wore a black chef shirt over slacks and a long white apron with blue stitching that said “Milos Cove” and “Big Al.” A makeup artist toweled his face and powdered it.

  “Great, great,” Rokos said as he paced in front of them looking into their eyes. “Great to meet you all. Who feels like making some authentic Greek cuisine today? You have any experience doing it?”

  “Chef Alpharetto did,” Alia said. “He was just eliminated.”

  “I heard, I heard. I’ll reach out to him. Well, here’s the thing. Bad news. Bad news for me, but very bad news for you. I have the job of eliminating some folks today. I’m jolly by nature, you know, but I’m putting on my tough pants. As they say in my country, he who becomes a sheep is eaten by the wolf. So I have to be the wolf. But if I do happen to eliminate you, nothing personal. You’re all welcome at my chef’s table, any time, you know that. So then, an authentic Greek dish, cooked and served just as I would expect on my yiayia’s own table. Possible?” Yiayia was Greek for grandmother; Kacie knew because she’d watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding one time when her high school teacher had put on that movie to get paper grading time.

  “Possible,” Kacie said.

  “Possible,” Alia echoed.

  “Since one of your workstations is empty, I will use it myself to make some pastitsio for lunch. Sounds good?”

  “I ate at Milos Cove San Francisco last year with my dad,” Eloise said. “Your béchamel is to die for.”

  “Win today, and I’ll teach you,” he said, and put a finger on the side of his nose. “Your dad is…?”

  “J.C. Hamilton.”

  “Marvelous.”

  Eloise gave him a winning smile.

  “I’ll throw up now,” Maryann said, not quietly enough.

  “Great. Any questions?”

  “Is there any ouzo in the pantry?” asked Buster.

  Down in the pantry, Toby pushed his cart next to Kacie and shopped with her. “What are you making?”

  “Dolmades. Louie showed me.”

  “When?”

  “That day you were sulking and got to take a walk.”

  “Good one,” Toby said. “Wish I had thought of that.”

  “What about you?”

  “Octopus with some eggplants. I might be off with the seasoning, but I’ll get the textures right.”

  “Toby.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t get eliminated.”

  He shrugged. “You did warn me Rokos was coming, so I asked Louie for some advice a while back, too.” He gave her a devilish grin.

  Kacie watched for an opening, then gave him a strong pinch at waist level. “Oh, it’s on now.”

  “It’s on, beautiful.” He winked.

  Kacie found the ouzo and gathered the ingredients for dolmades — grape leaves. She snagged a package of wagyu beef, the American equivalent of Japan’s kobe beef and considered the finest steak available in the United States. Dolmades was normally a lamb dish, but she thought the wagyu would make it irresistible. “Get me a meat grinder up in Kitchen One,” she told Shelley on-camera.

  “Yes, your majesty,” Shelley said.

  More ingredients. The grape leaves, of course — they were on a table that was set up just for this event, with all Greek products. She took tabouli, lemons, EVOO. Lots of great fish was on the table: bream, whiting, cod. Alia took several. Toby snagged a whole octopus. He’d be in heaven with that.

  Back in Kitchen One, Kacie started right away with putting the wagyu through the hand-cranked meat grinder Randy McDevitt had just inexpertly set up for her. Rokos was cooking nearby, but took time to walk around with the cameraman. He looked at the mixture she was building in a large metal bowl. “It’s not lamb, is it, Chef Lee?”

  “No, it’s wagyu. It’ll be delicious.”

  “Ah, but will it be authentic?”

  “Chef Rokos,” she said, “don’t you think yiayia would use it if she had it?”

  He moved on.

  Kacie paid a visit to Toby’s station and watched him draining out the ink into the sink of his station. Vince came over with the camera to capture their interaction. “My uncle Kong used to eat the baby ones live,” she said. “Sannakji, it’s called in Korea. The tentacles get stuck in your throat. They had to Heimlich one out of him one time at the IKEA in Gwangmyeong.”

  “You’re kidding.” Toby took a small knife and began to slice around one of the octopus’ eyes to remove it.

  “Yeah, I’m kidding, country boy.”

  “Well, one time MY uncle Percy got a live octopus wrapped around his foot when he was wading in the Gulf,” Toby said. “No matter how hard everybody pulled,they couldn’t get it off. So he had to get shoes in a larger size.”

  Kacie pulled his head down and whispered in his ear. “Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard in a couple of days.”

  “Can’t wait for that,” he said in a normal voice.

  She returned to her station. She’d let the mixture marinate for a while, and now it was time to lay out the grape leaves on her cutting board. These leaves weren’t the same size as the ones Louie had used when showing her the recipe. She’d have to adjust the amount of mixture. She didn’t want them coming open while boiling.

  Something was missing, of c
ourse. “Shelley!” she called out. “Toothpicks, are there any toothpicks?”

  A moment later, a plastic container was slapped down on her station. She looked up and saw Buster there.

  “Guess what?” he said. “Chicken butt!”

  “Get out of here!” She looked at the container, expecting to see MSG, but it was wooden toothpicks. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “I bet you a hundred dollars he likes mine better than yours,” said Buster.

  “Not if you make them into balloons or serve tiny bites on curvy spoons,” Kacie answered. “But you’re on, big man.”

  He offered a high-five. She had to jump to slap his hand.

  “That’s what I’ve been waiting for since day one,” he said.

  “Okay, okay. Get out of here.”

  As Kacie was dolloping her mixture, Eloise stopped by. “Well done,” she offered. “And thanks for the chocolate last night. I was getting too lazy about washing my hair anyway.”

  “Yeah,” Kacie said. “Same here.”

  At length she was able to pack the stuffed leaves, each pierced by a toothpick, into the pot and cover them with a mixture of chicken and vegetable stocks that Louie had showed her. She varied the proportions a little from his to compensate for the different between lamb and wagyu. When the mixture was simmering, she covered it and got to work on a béchamel. No way Eloise’s little ass-kissing session with the chef was going to outweigh her cooking. However, she had better know what she was up against. She went over to Rokos’ station holding a spoon. “Let me try?” she asked, and pointed the spoon at his sauce.

  “Huh? It’s not quite right yet,” he answered.

  “Let me try anyway?”

  He shrugged. Kacie tasted. It was rich, but not quite balanced yet, as he had said. Still, that gave her an idea. She waved at Ricky to bring the camera over. “Chef, Buster made me a hundred dollar bet you’d like his dolmades better than mine. If you pick mine, I’ll cut you in for twenty-five.”

  Rokos chortled. “Now I have to taste them blindfolded, don’t I?”

  Kacie returned to her station to work on her sauce.