Chef Showdown_A Romance

by MJ Post

  It was nearly an hour before she could plate her dish. She spent some of the intervening time watching Toby work. She was good with octopus, but he was faster and more precise, and at the late point in his dish preparation, when he added in the potatoes and eggplant, the textures and flavors were as perfect as she could imagine.

  She adorned her platter with a bottle of Ouzo Barbayianni and multiple snifters, then poured shots for everyone who came near. Buster took his shot over to the ice cream maker, where he was already working on an ouzo flavored ice cream. The licorice-flavored liquor made Kacie light-headed almost immediately. She took a second shot over to Toby, who was plating, and they toasted each other. As the cameras converged on them, Eloise and Vegas and then even Maryann arrived to form a cluster, and all of them raised shot glasses of ouzo together and yelled “Opa!” The Hammer Chef reached for a glass and taught them the Greek salute to health, “Stin uyeia sou!”

  When everyone’s dish was plated, placed on the table, videoed and photographed, the cast and crew went upstairs to eat Rokos’ pastitsio, or Greek lasagna. Kacie had to admit his béchamel was better than hers. Oh, well.

  Everyone except Alia and Shelley - and possibly Ricky, who seemed immune to alcohol — had had too much ouzo, and shooting was delayed for a little while to allow the participants to clear their heads. Kacie sat on the sofa with Toby and said, “One of us might get eliminated today. Could be both of us.”

  “Could be,” he said. “But we cooked pretty well, so I’ll stay optimistic.”

  “You’re just drunk. That’s why you think that.”

  “And you’re not drunk?”

  “I’m relaxed.”

  “You’re drunk,” he accused.

  “Okay, fine, country boy. I’m drunk.”

  “I could kiss you now,” he said.

  “Same here, but let’s cool it on-camera.”

  They held hands and waited.

  ∞∞∞

  The camera crew were slower than usual setting up. Madame Queen, who had skipped lunch, turned up in the studio and did her own tasting of the dishes for the camera, accompanied by Rokos. They had a staged back-and-forth discussion. They devoured Buster’s ouzo ice cream, and he had to go to fetch another batch from the blast chiller.

  “All right, all right,” the Hammer Chef said from his mark. “Sorry, sorry it’s taking too long. I know you must all be very nervous. This is why there was so much drinking today, wasn’t it? So let me start with the chefs who are in the cook-off. Chef Chen, the shrimp saganaki. A good sauce, but not enough feta. Maybe just a little too bland. Chef Wayne, I loved the ice cream so much I will develop my own variety for Milos Cove. I promise I will. So you are invited to join me on Hammer Chef Challenge to demonstrate it. Your dolmades, however, well … I’m sorry, but you lose your bet with Chef Lee. I do not care for the seasoning. Powdered green apple is not authentic. It tastes very good, but it has caramelized more than you probably intended and added an undesirable crunch. I’m sorry.”

  The two chefs delivered their sound-bytes and left the studio to freshen up.

  Kacie’s stomach was too stuffed with Greek food and liquor to quiver as it usually did at the most nervous moments. She held Toby’s hand as they awaited the next step.

  “I have to eliminate someone,” said Rokos. “I just must. Unfortunately, Chef Camacho, yours was the worst dish today. I know you must be expert with mussels, but today I just did not find your expertise on the plate. A bit rubbery. They cooked too much because the tomato sauce was too hot, maybe? I don’t know. Please, my friend, don’t be angry with me. I know you are great. It is simply your bad day, as we all have.”

  “Shit,” Vegas burst out. “I have a family, man.”

  “I’m sorry, Chef. It’s strike three and you are out.”

  Vegas let his hands fall to his sides. Stood a moment, then took off his casino hat and set it on the counter. “Well, that’s that.”

  “Let’s go to the lounge,” Shelley said to him.

  “I just wanted to take care of my family. I got a big family. You know that, Shel, right?”

  Shelley, Ricky, and Vegas retreated for the post-elimination interview.

  Celeste said, “We have to get the Hammer Chef to a dinner engagement. Can we wrap up quickly?”

  Derrick said, “Yeah, it’s getting late. Let’s do the rest. You guys know the setups.”

  On-camera, Rokos made his remarks. “Chef Kamara, excellent lamb chops and pilaf. Authentic, but too simple to win the day. Chef Lee, you have won the bet. Your dolmades were very tasty. You were correct, the wagyu made a good substitution for lamb. You owe me twenty five dollars, my share of the bet, of course. Chef Brutus, an excellent dish, fit for my yiayia. You would have been the winner, but I simply preferred Chef Hamilton’s dish. That moussaka, like gold. My own yiayia could not do better. Let us go upstairs to the Hammer Chef studio and we will make fassolatha, spanakopita, pork souvlaki, galaktobouriko. What do you say?”

  The lounge door slammed. Vegas was on his way to the elevator.

  Eloise called, “Chef Camacho!”

  Vegas turned.

  Eloise handed him his hat from the counter. “Since this is my friend’s last day on the show,” she said to the Hammer Chef, “would it be all right if he joined us?”

  Vegas stared, then put on his hat.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” said Rokos. “An extra pair of hands, especially from such a great chef, it would be very welcome.” He stood between the two, and all three held and raised their hands.

  “What did she do that for?” Kacie asked Toby.

  “She doesn’t want to look like a villain,” Toby said. “I don’t blame her. And she might still be scouting for her dad, too.”

  ∞∞∞

  The final cook-off of the show was between Maryann and Buster. Both had two strikes. Madame Queen presented them with a simple ingredient, cornichones or pickled gherkins. Buster made gherkin gel spheres a la Myhrvold and a king’s day bread garnished with blood orange slices, hot and spicy cornichones, and candied egg yolks. Maryann made Mandarin pancakes with a topping of moo shu with celery, bell pepper, carrot, leek, three types of mushrooms, a Chinese wine, and the cornichones.

  Madame Queen watched closely, moving on-camera from one station to the other. Kacie herself was amazed. She’d never seen either of them cook so well before. The smell of the moo shu made her mouth water, and Buster’s dish looked absolutely amazing on the plate. They were both cooking as if for their lives. Maryann didn’t curse once the whole time; she stared icily at her dish, tasted, stared again.

  When the cooking was over, and the plates were laid out on the table being photographed, Kacie went on her own and tasted the leftover food in the pots. She nodded. Her palate confirmed what her sense of smell had told her. Maryann’s dish had layers of flavor beyond any moo shu or really any stir fry she had ever had. It was an amazing dish. Buster’s flavors were good, but as always, plating was his strength.

  It was approaching midnight. Everyone was pretty much ready to fall over. Vince and Ricky had gone home, replaced by a pair of cameramen from an upstairs studio. Kacie and Toby could barely stand on their marks. Alia leaned alternately on each of them for strength.

  “Do you miss Louie?” Kacie asked her.

  “A little bit,” said Alia. “He would have won tonight.”

  Eloise returned from the upstairs studio, looking flushed from cooking with Hammer Chef Rokos, some of her hair out of place. “We made tomorrow’s lunch,” she told everyone. “I couldn’t eat any more tonight, but that food is delectable. Who do you think won?”

  Alia said, “I think Maryann.”

  It wasn’t long until Madame Queen was ready to render her judgment. “This was the finest exhibition of competitive cooking I have seen since this show began. It puts me in a difficult position. It is not sensible for me to eliminate either of you based on what I have seen or what I have tasted. But I must reduce the number of competito
rs to four for the finale tomorrow. Chef Wayne. We have appreciated your bravado and showmanship every day. In the category of good sportsmanship you lag behind, but of course, a reputation for doing so was known to us before you were hired. Return to the Kitchen Network offices tomorrow. You will find a contract prepared for numerous guest appearances on Hammer Chef Challenge and Pantry Confidential. For tonight, strike three. You are eliminated.”

  Buster made the rounds of the other chefs. To Toby: “So long, bro.” To Alia: “Really, you rock.” To Kacie: “You’re my favorite opponent ever. Mad props.” He reached for a hug. Kacie gave him her strongest one. “You lost weight,” she offered.

  Buster paused last in front of Eloise. “Can I get your number?” he asked. “For professional reasons. I want to do a stage for your dad. And invite you to partner with me for team competitions.”

  “Sure, sounds fun,” said Eloise. “Shelley, can you get it for him later?” She hugged Buster and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Always be yourself. Don’t change for anyone.”

  Buster let go and took a step away. “God, you’re hot. And you can cook like an angel. You’re my dream girl.”

  “Your dream girl is the one who likes you best,” said Eloise. “The one who smiles extra when you come into the room. I’ve never been that for anyone. Go on, get going.”

  Derrick walked Buster to the elevator.

  “Very touching,” said Madame Queen. “Now, Chef Chen. You have won this challenge. However, I do not wish to waste your time. You are not favored against the remaining four competitors, so I shall eliminate you.”

  A sharp exhalation of breath from Maryann. “Then I cooked for…”

  “For the opportunity to be featured in what will be the most dramatic cook-off of the entire show,” said the judge. “The news is not all bad for you. Return tomorrow to the main office. We shall need a series of ten videos for TKN dot com regarding basics of Cantonese cookery. You will be offered a contract to star in them.”

  “Yeah, okay,” said Maryann. “Okay. No long goodbyes for me. See you all around. Call me anytime.” She gave everyone a quick goodbye hug and left.

  “We made it,” Kacie said to Toby. “We made it to the finale.” She turned to Alia. “We made it.”

  “I prayed for it,” said Alia.

  “We made it, right?” Kacie asked Madame Queen. “You’re not eliminating anyone else?”

  “I am not,” said the judge. “The four of you will appear in the finale. Congratulations. Please take the night off. Tomorrow is a full day. And reflect carefully on what you have done. Past mistakes may come back to haunt you.”

  With Madame Queen gone, Shelley delayed them for twenty minutes redoing their marks and styling them in azure finale aprons with printed images of gumbo pots.

  ∞∞∞

  Toby was now the only man left on the show; by the time they got upstairs, the belongings of both Vegas and Buster were gone, and only Toby’s duffel remained. Kacie said, “I’m staying with you tonight.”

  “Great,” said Toby.

  She changed to t-shirt and sweatpants, said good-night to Alia and Eloise, and went across the hall to the men’s dorm. Toby was lying in his bed already.

  “You came,” he said.

  She flicked off his bedside lamp, darkening the room considerably, and climbed into bed next to him. They kissed a few times softly, sweetly, then she rolled herself to face away from him. He put his hand under her arm and cupped her waist. His warmth was delightful. It was perfect.

  “Toby,” she whispered.

  He sounded nearly asleep. “Hm?”

  “I love your voice.”

  “Love yours. Love you.”

  “You’ll love me when the show’s over?”

  “Shh. Don’t worry. I’m all in.”

  They fell asleep like that.

  MADAME QUEEN’S CHEF SHOWDOWN

  DAY 11

  Winner: Eloise

  Eliminated: Louie, Vegas, Maryann, Buster

  Strike Two: Toby, Kacie, Eloise

  No strikes yet: Alia

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Finale

  The morning of the finale, Toby woke later than usual. There had been no noise in the dorm to disturb him, since the other three men had already been eliminated, and it had been okay for him to sleep late, obviously, since no one had come to wake him. His freshly-cleaned outfit was waiting on the floor in the hallway as usual. He showered, came out in his towel to get the clothes off the bed -- let the camera catch him shirtless, so what?

  Kacie was there, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him. He moved close and they kissed, then he went into the steamy bathroom to change. He ran the hairdryer briefly, then tied his hair back and went out to join Kacie again.

  She wasn’t there. Had he imagined seeing her, kissing her? He went and knocked at the women’s dorm door. Alia called, “Come in!”

  She and Eloise were already dressed and ready. Eloise was doing makeup in the wall mirror: the network’s makeup artist wasn’t available till they got to Kitchen One.

  Kacie came out of the bathroom and sat on her bed. Toby sat next to her. “You good?” he asked.

  “If I beat you,” she whispered. “You won’t dump me. Promise you won’t.”

  “Not a chance,” he said, and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “I won’t lose just to have you,” she said. “I really thought about it, but…”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “Let me finish. I want to say this. I couldn't, I can’t be your woman without being my best, too. You have to take me that way.”

  “I want you that way.”

  She was getting louder. “You say you do, you think you do, but can you really handle it? Have you ever been there before?”

  “No,” he admitted. What was she so nervous about? They’d been through this already. “Winning is just about the TV show. Everyone here is good. We aren’t really competing. A different judge or a different day and it all changes.”

  He hadn’t whispered, and the other women heard. Eloise came over from the mirror and stood at the foot of the bed. “I think,” she said, “being the best is about your attitude. We all have our doubts about ourselves, but if we overcome them and focus, we’re okay. That’s the thing I respect about you, Kacie. Put you in front of a stove and you just see the stove.”

  “It’s true,” said Alia. “Louie messed up because he was in his head during challenges. Vegas, too. Buster was too focused on playing mind games for his ego. Maryann was too worried about her family. We four are the ones who can shut out those distractions when we’re working. We aren’t better chefs. We’re better competitors.”

  ∞∞∞

  When they assembled in the common-room, dressed and ready for breakfast, they found a flip chart had been added, and on it was a pad of chart paper with a poem in Madame Queen’s handwriting.

  I don’t cook up food like a normal cook.

  I cook up love like a love cook.

  I’m a culinary romancer,

  A soul food pot-bangin’ roll-up-your-sleeves heartthrob.

  I don’t feed stomachs.

  I feed souls with passion.

  My kitchen is the love kitchen.

  Come on in and I just might let you

  Lick the spoon.

  -LZB

  “Oh, yeah, I know who wrote that,” said Eloise. “LZB is Lana Zuleika Butcher. She came in to eat at Electric Garden one summer. I was sixteen and I was waiting tables because Dad was short-staffed. She had crazy hair.”

  On the dining room table they found a large box and a small wrapped package for each of them. The box contained copies of the latest editions of Galloping Gourmet, I Love to Eat, The French Chef, and Everyday Cooking, each inscribed to them personally by Madame Queen, Lou Morton, Shaun Kerr, and Shelley Drake. The smaller packages contained hand-knitted oven mitts with their names embroidered on them, each with a card that read in spidery handwriting, “
Love, Ozzy.”

  Lou Morton and Shelley Drake arrived shortly after, followed by Randy McDevitt pushing a shopping cart. “We’re making breakfast today,” the director announced. “Outback omelets coming up!”

  “Executive wheat cakes,” said the TKN head.

  The meal featured gourmet huckleberry syrup for the wheatcakes and heirloom sweet peppers in the omelets. Knowing he had a long day ahead of him, Toby stuffed himself and tanked up on coffee made by Eloise and Alia.

  While Randy McDevitt cleaned the dishes, Morton stood at the head of the table to give a speech. “I’ve been at a lot of show recordings over the years — hands-on guy, as you know — but I’ll share with you that I think this one is special. We may not be the #1 network for food yet, but when news of this show gets around, well, we just might achieve that goal. We really put you guys through the wringer these last two weeks. Now, I see you’ve collected your gifts. Tomorrow morning, before you sign out, come up to the executive suite to pick up your checks. We’ll want to see you all about other opportunities as well, so my assistants will make appointments for you to meet with me and Herschel next week. Sounds good?”

  Everyone assented.

  “Okay, then! I’ll stop by later and see how you’re doing.”

  “This will be a long day for all of us,” Shelley added. “Let’s go ahead and kick some serious ass in that kitchen! And hey — proud of you all.”

  Toby put on his embroidered mitts as they headed to the studio.

  An agonizing sixty minutes of interviews, most of them repeated to get the sound-bytes perfect, was followed by two hours of their making cooking demos for YouTube, two at a time, using a single cameraman each. Following instructions, Toby demonstrated southern fried chicken and biscuits from scratch, neither much of a challenge for him, but definitely clickbait, as Lillian would say. He turned and beamed at the camera as often as he could. Kacie was asked to make pork bulgogi and tornado potatoes, two specialties of hers. Alia made fried fish; Eloise made duck breast egg rolls.

  Madame Queen arrived only after that, wearing a purple dress and dark stockings, her hair done up, her earrings prominent and gold. “I have been reviewing your entire performances to date,” she told them on-camera. “Now I am prepared to select your dishes for this afternoon. Each of you will be preparing, again, a dish you did not make well on the previous occasion that you attempted it. Whichever of you shows the most improvement shall be the winner. I know there has been some concern about my neutrality in judging your food — and so, before I make the final decision, I will take the advice of three Hammer Chefs. Yes, the same three who have already judged you have today been with me reviewing my selections, and they are all eager to taste your dishes. Chef Dampierre, Chef Medvedev, and Chef Rokos will be present after lunch to sample the food you make, and I will listen very seriously to their advisory opinions. Now, each of you come forward and take the envelope with your name on it to learn your fate.”