Lights, Camera, Cook!

by Charise Mericle Harper

  This was it! The race was on. Chef Nancy had three wishes for every challenge: that no one drop anything, that no one burn anything, and that no one cut themselves. She crossed her fingers. It might not help, but at this point it was all she could do. For the next seventy-five minutes, the kids were on their own.

  Rae was starting with the hot pepper brittle. It was the fiery crunch that would contrast with the creamy smoothness of her mango pie. Brittle wasn’t so different from the filling of baklava. She put sugar and corn syrup into a pot and brought it to a boil. When the sugar was dissolved, she added piñon nuts.

  Chef Aimee stopped by to visit with Caroline. Caroline liked the attention, but it was hard to cook and talk at the same time.

  “Oooh,” said Chef Aimee. “What smells so good?”

  Caroline pointed to the caramelized apples. “I just finished those up, and now I’m caramelizing the baby eggplants.” A thin layer of sliced eggplants nested in a froth of butter and sugar.

  Chef Aimee took one more sniff. “Yum! Keep it up.”

  Caroline was relieved when Chef Aimee left. There was still a lot to do. Now was not a time for chitchatting. Next up was the pastry cream.

  Oliver felt bad about using the microwave; he was old-fashioned. Normally he would have baked the sweet potatoes, but there wasn’t time for that. He needed them cooked fast. While he was waiting for the bell on the timer, he made the ice cream base, adding vanilla, cinnamon, and cream cheese for tanginess, then rushing it to the fridge to cool.

  Chef Gary came over to talk just as Oliver was pouring his mixture into the ice cream maker. This was Oliver’s favorite part. He turned the handle and waited for the ice cream to ooze out.

  “What’s the flavor?” asked Chef Gary.

  “Sweet potato cream cheese with crushed candied pecans.” Chef Gary nodded. “Sweetness and crunch—good combination.”

  Tate was busy trying to concentrate on cooking. Trying to not think about his dad. It wasn’t easy.

  “Hello, Tate. What are you making?”

  He looked up. “Oh.” It was Chef Porter. He would have been happier to see Nancy the chicken.

  He didn’t feel like talking. He pointed to the oven. “Beets.”

  Chef Porter peered into the oven. “And then?”

  Tate sighed. “It’ll be a molten chocolate beet pudding cake.”

  “Pudding, chocolate, cake, and beets.” Chef Porter tapped the table with her finger. “Interesting idea . . . Fine work.” A second later she was gone.

  It wasn’t much of an interaction, but Tate didn’t mind. He was alone again and nothing bad had happened.

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  en minutes left!” shouted Chef Gary.

  No one was ready. No one was calm. Everyone was rushing.

  Rae dropped three dollops of lime sauce onto the plate and swirled them with the back of her spoon. She placed her spiced tart opposite the swirls and stacked three brittle pieces on the edge. A sprinkling of coconut shavings and a sugarcoated candied poblano pepper finished off the presentation.

  Tate’s pudding was droopy—like someone had punched it right in the middle. It probably tasted good, but presentation-wise, he needed more than sugarcoated beet slices to save it. He quickly melted some chocolate in a double boiler and dribbled it onto wax paper. He moved back and forth, slow and steady, creating an even and intricate gridlike pattern. Now he just needed time. Once it was set, he could put all of the components together.

  Caroline was building her masterpiece layer by layer. First the puff pastry, then a layer of pastry cream followed by caramelized apple and eggplant slices, a sprinkling of ground pistachios, and then puff pastry again to start a new layer. The final layer was a puff pastry crust with a vanilla glaze accented with swirls of caramel sauce. Caroline squeezed three dots of caramel sauce on the plate and dusted ground pistachios selectively around the remaining white space.

  Oliver was worried. His ice cream wasn’t freezing fast enough. He’d scooped out a tigger melon and filled it with ice cream. Now he was waiting for it to freeze. The plan was to slice off a small wedge for presentation. Oliver ran to the freezer: ready or not, he had to use it. Two sweet potato fritters were already on the plate, stacked and glazed with a drizzle of lavender honey. Oliver held his breath and carefully sliced the melon. The ice cream held together in a perfect wedge. He balanced two wafer-thin potato crisps next to the melon. A sprig of mint finished off the presentation.

  “Time!” called Chef Gary, and everyone’s hands went into the air. A second later the cameras turned off.

  “Which one first?” asked Steve.

  Chef Nancy pointed to Oliver. Mark the cameraperson ran over and took some close-ups of Oliver’s dessert. When he was done, Oliver took his dessert to the freezer.

  It took about ten minutes to film everyone’s food. When they were done, the cameras got back into position and everyone pretended there hadn’t been a break.

  “And, rolling!” called Steve.

  The judges stood in front of the long table at the head of the room.

  Chef Gary pointed to the table. “Rae, please bring your dessert to the table.”

  Rae held her breath the whole way. Dropping the plate was everyone’s worst fear.

  “What did you make us?” asked Chef Aimee.

  “Spiced lime and mango tart with spicy poblano brittle.”

  She could hardly breathe. The judges were going to try her food. Right now! Right in front of her. She held the charm on her neck for luck. She felt dizzy, but not fainting dizzy. This was excitement dizzy.

  “OOOH OOOOOH!” Chef Gary surprised her with a song. “See, I told you I would sing. I couldn’t help it. It’s that surprisingly delicious!”

  “Nice spicy crust,” said Chef Aimee. “And it contrasts perfectly with the sweetness of the mango.”

  “Mmm—and the brittle! Very nice texture,” said Chef Porter, and she took another piece.

  Rae went back to her spot in a daze—a happy daze.

  Chef Gary pointed at the table. “Caroline, please bring your dessert to the table.”

  Caroline made it there without incident. That was lucky: her hands were sweaty and shaking.

  “What did you make us?” asked Chef Aimee.

  “Apple eggplant napoleon with pistachio dust and a vanilla caramel glaze.”

  Chef Aimee took the first bite. “Nice crunch on the puff pastry, and those mini eggplants are like candy. The bottom layer is a little soggy, but it tastes so good, I almost don’t mind.”

  Chef Porter smiled. “Beautiful presentation and delicious pastry cream. Just perfect—not too sweet.”

  Chef Gary took the last and the biggest bite. “I want to sing your praises, but Chef Aimee won’t let me do any more singing, so all I can say is . . . this is amazing!”

  Caroline went back to her spot with a huge smile on her face.

  “Ten-minute break!” shouted Steve. He pointed to Oliver’s dessert. “And get that one back in the freezer.”

  Chef Nancy helped Oliver with his dessert, Caroline and Rae sat down to rest, and Tate ran off to the bathroom.

  Chapter 36

  en minutes later, everyone was back at their workstations except Tate. He was missing. Chef Nancy knew just where to look, and it wasn’t the bathroom.

  “Tate! We’re about to start!”

  Tate grumbled, said goodbye to his dad, and followed Chef Nancy back to the studio.

  As soon as he was back at his workstation, things started up again.

  “Cameras rolling!”

  Chef Gary pointed at the table. “Tate, please bring your dessert to the table.”

  Tate moved faster than the others, and he didn’t seem worried about dropping his plate.

  “What did you make for us?” asked Chef Porter.

  Tate couldn’t believe his luck. He always got Chef Porter.

  He answered without looking up. “Molten chocolate beet pudding cake with a chocolate web crust garnis
hed with candied yellow and red beets.”

  “I do love beets,” said Chef Porter. She tasted the pudding with her spoon. “Subtle, but I think it might need just a touch more sweetness.”

  Tate nodded. He was mad at himself. He’d made the most common cooking mistake ever. He’d forgotten to taste it before baking it.

  Chef Gary took a bite, then scrunched up his nose. “I’m trying to taste the beets, but it’s a little bland.” He sucked on a candied beet and nodded. “But these are good.”

  Chef Aimee wasn’t very excited about the taste either. “Tate, did you try this before you baked it?”

  Tate stared at the table and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Tate. It would certainly have made a difference, because the consistency is excellent.”

  It was a compliment, sort of. Tate looked up and tried to smile.

  Then he looked back down, disappointed. His dessert was a failure. There was a good chance he’d be the one going home.

  Chef Gary pointed to Oliver. “Oliver, will you please bring your dessert to the table.”

  Oliver walked up slowly and carefully. Any sudden movements and the potato crisps would slip right off the plate.

  “Oliver, what did you make us?”

  “Chef, I made sweet potatoes three ways. Sweet potato fritters with a honey lavender glaze, sweet potato ice cream with pecans, and sweet potato maple crisps.”

  Chef Gary leaned forward for a closer look. “WOW! What a presentation. I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like this before. The orange ice cream in the orange melon—that’s brilliant! It looks like it was meant to be that way.” He dug his spoon into the ice cream. “Creamy, smooth, with just a little bite—delicious.” He licked his lips.

  Chef Aimee was next. Her favorites were the fritters and the ice cream. “What a satisfying combination, and the fritters are light and fluffy—not at all greasy. Excellent job, Oliver.”

  And last there was Chef Porter. She tried everything, closed her eyes, and then spoke only one word: “Bravo!”

  The judges moved away from the table to talk about the desserts. It was hard to wait and do nothing. Rae counted by fives, Tate tapped his feet, Caroline scratched her arm, and Oliver tried to lip-read. The judges were talking, but of course he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Lip-reading was harder than he thought it would be. He studied Chef Porter. Was she really saying Aloha green bean?

  Chapter 37

  he judges moved back to the center of the room. Chef Gary stepped forward. “We are proud of each and every one of you. You are the top junior chefs in the country and we are honored to have you in this competition. Today’s challenge was not easy, and you did not disappoint us. The desserts you’ve presented are inspiring, creative, and daring.

  “Rae, your sweet and spicy tart was a treat for our tongues.

  “Caroline, your twist on the napoleon was unexpected and delightful.

  “Oliver, your trio of desserts was beyond expectation.

  “Tate, the pairing of chocolate and beets is brilliant.

  This was a hard competition to judge, but the contestant we chose displayed an incredible amount of ingenuity and skill.”

  Rae would have never thought to put eggplants in a napoleon—that was ingenious. Could Caroline be the winner?

  Caroline studied Rae’s dessert. She’d made both a tart and brittle—that was skillful. Could Rae be the winner?

  Chef Gary put his hands on the table right next to Rae’s dessert. “Not only was the dessert delicious, but it was also exquisitely presented.”

  Chef Gary waved his hand over the desserts. “Presentation is always important, and there are some nice examples of that here. Rae used brittle to add height, Tate added a chocolate grid for mystery, and Oliver’s plate was filled with sculptural elements. Caroline, I’m not leaving you out. Sometimes less is more, and that was the case for your napoleon. It’s a multilayered dessert, complicated in its structure, so it deserves to be the standout on the plate. Well done.”

  Chef Gary stepped back to join the other judges.

  Caroline held her breath.

  Oliver stared without blinking.

  Tate wiggled his toes.

  Rae counted to ten.

  Chef Gary nodded to the other judges. They smiled and nodded back. “The winner of today’s elimination challenge is . . . Oliver!”

  The whole room broke out in applause.

  “I loved it,” gushed Chef Aimee. “I can’t believe you created three different incredible desserts in only ninety minutes. Oliver, we can’t wait to see what you do next!”

  Chef Porter stepped up. “Well done, young man. Very impressive!”

  Oliver bowed and then bowed again and again—once for each chef. “Thank you, Chef! Thank you, Chef! Thank you, Chef!” He couldn’t stop smiling. This was it! The best day of his life.

  Chef Gary invited Oliver over to stand next to him. He shook his hand. “As the winner of this challenge, we’d like to present you with this certificate for five hundred dollars’ worth of new cooking supplies and maybe more importantly . . . an advantage in the next round.”

  Chef Gary stood back and watched as a table was wheeled over to the center of the room. There were three elements on the table: a flaming disk, a glass bowl filled with water, and a spinning pinwheel.

  Chef Gary pointed to the table. “Fire, water, and air! One of these might be an advantage in the next round. Oliver, please think carefully, then make your choice.”

  Oliver nodded and started a countdown in his head. It looked like he was thinking, but really he’d already chosen. Fire! That was the advantage—he was sure of it. Three, two, one. He smiled. “I choose fire.”

  After the excitement with Oliver, there was one more task: elimination. No one was smiling for this part.

  Chef Aimee looked sad. “I’m sorry. This is so hard, but we have to send someone home.” She scanned the remaining contestants. “Rae, will you please step up.”

  Caroline gasped.

  Rae’s feet didn’t want to move, but she willed them forward, closer to Chef Aimee. She stared at Chef Aimee’s lips, waiting for the words. What would happen when they came? Would she cry? Yes! It was starting already.

  The lips smiled. “Rae, you will not be eliminated today. Please join Oliver at the front.”

  Rae screamed and ran forward, then spun to look behind her. Oh no! Not Caroline!

  Caroline was staring at the floor, her hands shaking at her sides.

  Chef Aimee looked back and forth between Caroline and Tate. “You are both talented and deserving, but one of you will be asked to leave. Caroline, your dessert was inspired, but skill is also important. Your bottom crust was soggy and that detracted from the dessert. Tate, as you know, taste is just as important as presentation. Your dessert looked delicious, but lacked the follow-through. It was not sweet enough.” Chef Aimee shook her head.

  “Caroline . . . will you please step forward.” Caroline stepped forward, then looked up. A large tear was wiggling a crooked path down her cheek.

  “Caroline, you may join Oliver and Rae at the front.”

  Caroline sobbed in relief and stepped next to Oliver.

  Chef Aimee walked over to Tate and patted his shoulder. “Tate, we’ve loved having you here in the Next Best Junior Chef competition. There are great things in store for you. I know we’ll hear from you again. You are truly a talented young chef, but your dessert tonight was a bit of a disappointment. I’m afraid you are no longer in the running to be the Next Best Junior Chef. Please hang up your apron.”

  Tate was surprised, but not about losing. The surprise was how he felt. He wasn’t one bit sad. He looked up at Chef Aimee and the other judges. “Thank you, chefs, for the opportunity. I had a lot of fun.” He walked to his workstation and hung up his apron, and then he was gone, out the big back door.

  Rae watched, sad for Tate but glad that it wasn’t her. This wasn’t goodbye; they’d see him later, back a
t the lodge. He still had to pack up his things. It helped that she knew where he was right at that minute—probably hugging his dad.

  I really had fun in the competition. I learned a lot and made some great friends. I don’t feel like I lost, because having my dad here is better than winning the competition. It’s better than any prize I could have ever imagined!

  Caroline looked over at Oliver. He was smiling, but was he sad, too? His buddy was leaving. Caroline wanted to be next to Rae, so they could hold hands. Competing against your new best friend wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t natural. Friends needed to stick together. How could they do that now? Team up against Oliver?

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  hef Aimee clapped her hands and admired the three remaining contestants. “Are you ready for the next round of challenges? I hope so, because it’s going to be exciting!”

  “YES, CHEF!”

  Caroline’s mouth said the words, but she was worried.

  What have you learned that will help you win Next Best Junior Chef?

  I’ve learned that food is like friendship: the more you’re around it, the better you understand it.

  I’ve learned that calmness is a skill, not just a title. I’m going to work to live up to my name. I’ll be the King of Calm in life and in the kitchen.

  I’ve learned to listen to myself, and be confident in my decisions. I have hidden skills that I’m just discovering.

  “Congratulations, contestants. You are moving on to the next round of Next Best Junior Chef! What new challenges will test our young chefs’ culinary skills? What unexpected hurdles will be thrown in their path? Will the bonds of friendship survive? Who will be eliminated next? And who will be one dish closer to winning the competition? Tune in to the next episode of Next Best Junior Chef to find out!”