Miami!

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Miami! Page 3

by Giada De Laurentiis


  A wide grin finally broke across the serious chef’s face. Alfie and Emilia had succeeded in making him smile. Good food had a way of making that happen, Alfie decided.

  Alfie and Emilia spent the afternoon helping Chef Fernandez. They dished up his ropa vieja and arroz con pollo samples, made another run to the Grand Market, and helped clean up his booth. After that they headed back to the volunteer area. The festival crowd had thinned out, and it seemed like things were winding down.

  Back at the tent, Alfie spotted Marcus, Sally, Stacey, and a lot of other volunteers they’d seen throughout the day.

  “Hey, guys!” Marcus greeted them. “The festival is closing for the evening, so it’s time to clean up around the tents and booths.” He handed them each a trash bag and a recycling bag. “Pick up anything you see and sort it into your bags.”

  “Okay,” Alfie said.

  Stacey joined them as they started cleaning up. “How was the rest of your afternoon?” she asked as they worked.

  “Good!” Emilia said. “It’s a really cool festival.”

  “Yeah,” Alfie added. “We had lots of fun.” Alfie realized as he said it how true it was. Volunteering for a festival wasn’t something he’d thought about doing before, but it really was fun—especially when food was involved.

  Stacey nodded. “I really love it. Plus, I live here in Miami and my dad’s a chef, so it’s easy for me to come. How about you guys? Are you from Miami, too?”

  Alfie could see Emilia thinking fast. “We’re visiting Miami with our family. Our parents and our great-aunt are really into cooking, so they let us volunteer while we’re here.”

  “That’s great. How was Chef Fernandez when you got back from the market?” Stacey asked.

  “He didn’t seem quite so gruff after we helped out for the afternoon,” Alfie said. “Plus, we told him we really liked his food!”

  Stacey laughed. “I think the word Marcus used was brusque. But telling a chef you like his food is usually the quickest way to get on his good side.”

  “His food was really good! Besides the arroz con pollo, he also made ropa vieja and plantain chips,” Alfie said. “I wouldn’t even mind if we had to help him again tomorrow!”

  Stacey nodded knowingly. “That’s a favorite here in Miami. There are some amazing Cuban restaurants here that all make great ropa vieja, but I think Chef Fernandez’s recipe is my favorite.”

  “He must be pretty famous if you know so much about him!” Alfie said.

  “Something like that,” Stacey said with a shrug.

  Once their bags were full, the trio returned to the volunteer tent, where all the trash and recycling was loaded onto a truck.

  “Great job today!” Marcus said as everyone gathered around. “Chances are the festival will be even busier tomorrow, so it will be all hands on deck! The festival opens at ten o’clock in the morning, so please plan to arrive around eight to start setting up and help make sure everything is ready to go.”

  The volunteers clapped and nodded.

  “Good night!” Marcus called.

  “See you guys tomorrow,” Stacey said. “And if we get any time off, maybe I can show you around South Beach a little.”

  “That would be great!” Emilia said. “We’d love to see more. So, this area of Miami is called South Beach?”

  “Yep,” Stacey said. “It’s a neighborhood of Miami Beach, which is an island connected to the main part of Miami by a long bridge.”

  “It would be fun to see more of the area, for sure,” Alfie said. “We haven’t really done any exploring yet.”

  “There’s tons of cool stuff to see,” Stacey said. “And the music and dancing! It’s amazing. Hopefully tomorrow. See you then!” And with a wave, she headed off.

  “Bye!” Alfie said.

  “She seems nice,” Emilia said.

  “Totally,” Alfie agreed. “And maybe we’ll see some cool dancing!”

  When Emilia didn’t answer, Alfie figured she must still be upset about her dance routine. Hopefully Miami would change that.

  They milled around the tent, waiting for everyone to head out. “Are your parents coming?” Marcus asked, looking around.

  “Yes . . . Um, we’re meeting them down at the other end,” Emilia said, motioning down the beach.

  “Got it,” Marcus said. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t stranded or anything . . .” He hesitated, looking down the beach. “Why don’t I walk you down there?”

  “That’s okay,” Emilia said quickly. “They’re already waiting, so we’ll just hurry.”

  “Oh, okay, good. Well, see you tomorrow then!”

  Alfie and Emilia started jogging down the beach.

  “We’ll circle back as soon as the coast is clear,” Emilia whispered. Alfie nodded, looking out across the ocean. There was a slight breeze now, and Alfie liked watching the tall palm trees sway at the edge of the beach. The sun was setting on the opposite side of the bay, so they couldn’t see it behind all the large buildings, but the water had darkened and the clouds in the sky were a surprisingly bright pink. Alfie took a deep breath of salty sea air and smiled. Miami was beautiful!

  They jogged until they reached the other end of the festival area. Alfie was surprised by how quickly the beach had cleared out for the day. There was really no one around except for a few tourists and families enjoying the setting sun and a few people biking and running on a path beyond the sand.

  “I think it’s safe to go back,” Emilia said after they’d waited a couple more minutes, enjoying the pinks and purples streaked across the sky.

  They turned around and headed back to the opposite end of the festival. The volunteer area came into view and there was no one around. They walked up to the row of gleaming silver trailers behind the booth and then looked around cautiously. Alfie grinned and pulled the door handle on the trailer at the end of the row. And then his face fell.

  “What?” Emilia said, her eyes wide.

  “It’s locked!”

  “Oh no!” Emilia covered her mouth. “I didn’t even think about that!”

  They ran to the next trailer. Also locked. And the next and the next. There was one more trailer left in the row. Alfie held his breath as he lifted the handle. It clicked as it unlatched and the door opened. They both let out a deep sigh of relief and stepped inside. Emilia slid the dead bolt on the door, just in case anyone came back to check.

  Alfie collapsed onto the sofa. “That was lucky!”

  Emilia switched on a little light in the kitchen area and opened a bottle of water. She tossed one to Alfie. He took a big gulp, not realizing how thirsty he was after their busy first adventure day.

  Emilia proceeded to open all the cabinets and drawers.

  “What are you doing?” Alfie asked.

  “Just looking around.”

  Emilia went into the bathroom and came back with a big smile on her face. “Look!” She held up two plastic bags that each contained a travel toothbrush, a mini tube of toothpaste, a comb, and a small bottle of sunscreen. “There are a bunch of these. They must have made them up for all the volunteers.”

  “Nice!” Alfie grinned. “This is working out perfectly.”

  Emilia knelt on the sofa next to Alfie and peeked through the blinds. “We have to make sure they don’t lock all of the trailers tomorrow night!”

  “Assuming we’ll still be here,” Alfie said. “You never know.”

  “True,” said Emilia. “Although it seems like we will be, right? Almost all of our adventures have lasted more than a day.”

  “I hope so!”

  Emilia turned to her brother and frowned. “Being in Miami is fun, but I’m still worried about my dance routine. Maybe I won’t try out this year. I’ll use the next year to practice more and get better. Take some classes or something.”

 
“You’re not serious, are you? I mean, sure, you should take classes if you want to, but don’t not try out. I know you’ll end up with a great routine.”

  “We’ll see,” Emilia said. Then she perked up a little bit and smiled. “But let’s talk about all that food today. I saw lots of amazing stuff!”

  Alfie grinned. “Me too. We have to stay longer just so we can try more food.”

  “Zia outdid herself this time,” Emilia said. “An international food festival!”

  Alfie laughed. “She sure did.”

  Alfie and Emilia were a little worried about oversleeping and being discovered in the trailer, so they set an alarm on Emilia’s phone. But the bright sun rising over South Beach proved to be the only alarm clock they needed.

  They each helped themselves to another bottle of water and a couple of granola bars and then washed up and brushed their teeth. Right before they slipped out of the trailer for the morning, Alfie found a small slip of paper and crumpled it into a tight ball. He wedged the paper into the lock on the trailer door, hoping that would prevent the lock from catching if anyone did try to secure it at the end of the day.

  Emilia watched him with a curious look on her face. Alfie shrugged. “I saw it on a TV show.”

  They set off down the beach, enjoying the morning sun. Alfie took off his shoes so he could feel the soft sand between his toes. Then he ran to the water’s edge and let a gentle wave lap over his feet.

  “It’s not even cold!” he said. He wished he’d gotten up even earlier to swim.

  After they had walked a while longer, Alfie put his shoes on and they looped back to the volunteer tent. Marcus and the other volunteers had started to arrive, and the festival was already buzzing with preparations for the day.

  “Right on time!” Marcus beamed. “We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

  “We’re ready!” Alfie said, thinking about all the cool demonstrations and yummy food samples that were waiting for him.

  “Gather around, everyone,” Marcus called to the group. “As I mentioned last night, the festival opens to the public in two hours. Many chefs need help preparing their samples to serve as soon as the doors open. We also need help setting up tables and chairs throughout the festival. And some chefs need to get some early shopping done. If you worked with Sally yesterday, see her again for your list of duties.”

  Sally waved her hand, and a bunch of volunteers, mostly adults, broke away from the group.

  “The rest of you have tasks helping specific chefs, so please see me.”

  Alfie and Emilia waited in line to receive their first task of the morning. Stacey was near the front of the line. She smiled and waved before setting off on her assignment.

  “I have an important assignment for you two,” Marcus said, handing a sealed envelope to Emilia. “We have a junior chef competition going on today and tomorrow,” he explained. “There is a group of local high-school students who participate in a cooking club. They are here at the festival to compete against each other for an exciting prize. Each chef is going to receive the name of the dish that they will be required to make for the competition. Your job is to deliver this envelope to junior chef Margo Balla from Miami Central High School. Her dish is inside. The junior chefs aren’t given a recipe to follow—that’s part of the competition. They have to come up with their own recipe.”

  “Exciting!” Emilia said, eyeing the envelope.

  “You are Margo’s assistants until the competition tomorrow morning, so please help her with anything she needs—except for making the actual recipe, of course.”

  “Cool!” Alfie said.

  “You’ll find the junior chef area at the other end of the festival,” Marcus said. “Just follow the signs past the stage and the market. You can’t miss it.”

  Alfie and Emilia nodded and set off. “Maybe I should hold the envelope,” Alfie said. Emilia held it to her chest.

  “I’ve got it,” she said.

  “Okay, fine. But keep it safe.”

  They hurried through the sand to the junior chef area, but Alfie was having a hard time focusing on their task. The food being prepared everywhere looked—and smelled—amazing! They walked through the demonstrations area, which was being set up. Alfie couldn’t help but think of yesterday’s gelato and wonder what they’d be featuring today. He spotted booths for a bread maker, a soda-making machine, and a gizmo that made zucchini look like spaghetti noodles. That didn’t sound as exciting as gelato, but it was still pretty cool.

  “Maybe we can go back there later,” Emilia told Alfie when he stopped to grab a sample.

  Alfie nodded. He hoped so!

  Finally, they made it to the circle of junior chefs. Each one had his or her own table and prep station set up. It looked like some of the envelopes had already been delivered, and other chefs were waiting for theirs to arrive. They didn’t have to search hard to find Margo—they recognized her right away.

  “It’s you!” Alfie said.

  Margo stopped pacing around her cooking area and looked up. A smile broke out on her face. “Hey! From the gelato booth!”

  “Yeah,” Emilia replied. “We’re going to be your assistants for the competition!”

  “That’s so great!” said Margo. “I was getting worried about getting my envelope, so it’s even better to have it delivered by some familiar faces. Alfie and Emilia, right?”

  “Yep!” Alfie said. “Is Thomas here?”

  “He’s around here somewhere. My auntie was taking him to see more demonstrations today. He couldn’t get enough of those yesterday.”

  “Alfie was a little distracted by that tent on the way over,” Emilia said.

  “I was not!” Alfie shot back. “. . . Okay, maybe a little. But we’re glad we get to help you with the competition!”

  “Thank you!” Margo smiled. “I’m a little stressed out, but it’s exciting.”

  “What does the winner get?” Alfie asked.

  “The winner gets to spend an afternoon working with and learning from a famous chef here in Miami. It’s a secret who the chef even is, but he or she is going to be one of the judges tomorrow morning!” Margo said, delight bubbling up in her voice.

  “How cool!” Emilia said.

  Margo nodded. “It is. And I really want to win. I’ve loved cooking for as long as I can remember. I learned from my auntie—she taught me everything I know. And I can’t wait to be a chef when I grow up.”

  “We’ve been learning to cook from our great-aunt. It’s really fun,” Alfie said.

  “I already know which culinary school I want to attend after high school—assuming I get in, of course,” Margo said. Her face lit up as she talked. Alfie liked how passionate she was. It reminded him of Zia.

  “I can’t wait another minute!” Emilia cried, handing Margo the envelope. “Open it!”

  Margo laughed. “Right! Yes.” She tore open the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper. She slumped forward against her table like all the air had been released from her body. “Oh no,” she whispered.

  “What is it?” Emilia asked gently.

  Margo let her arms fall to her sides. “This wasn’t at all what I expected. I don’t know how I’m going to make this!”

  “Is it really that bad?” Alfie asked.

  Tears filled Margo’s eyes. “They want me to make a lemon meringue pie,” she said finally.

  Alfie didn’t think that sounded so bad. In fact, lemon meringue pie was pretty good!

  “I’m terrible at making meringue,” Margo explained. “I’ve only made it once before, and it was a disaster. And without a recipe, I have to improvise and do it myself. I never thought I’d get something that I was bad at making! I’ve been practicing so many different recipes and techniques.”

  Alfie and Emilia exchanged a worried look. “Well,” Emilia said, “we’re here to help! So
tell us what we can do.”

  “Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Alfie chimed in, trying to sound positive. “We know you can do it!”

  “Thanks, guys,” Margo said quietly, sinking into a folding chair next to her prep table.

  “Want us to go to the market for you?” Alfie asked, trying to be helpful.

  “No,” Margo said.

  Alfie and Emilia exchanged another concerned glance. They didn’t know what to do!

  “Maybe we can talk to Marcus,” Emilia offered. “See if there’s an alternate recipe that didn’t get assigned—maybe he can give you a new one!”

  Margo rose from her chair and seemed to shake things off a bit. “No, the rule is that we have to make whatever we’re assigned—no matter what. I’ll come to the market with you. Maybe that will help me sort out my plan.”

  “Great!” Alfie said as cheerfully as possible.

  “Yeah, let’s go!” Emilia added.

  Margo folded the piece of paper and tucked it into her chef’s jacket. They headed to the market in silence. The worried look on Margo’s face remained.

  “So, have you always lived in Miami?” Alfie asked, trying to make conversation.

  “My family is originally from Haiti,” Margo answered, “but my brother and I moved to Miami with our aunt when we were very young.”

  Margo seemed to relax a little bit as they walked, and she talked more about her neighborhood, her high school, and the cooking club, but as they reached the market, her face fell again.

  “Hey, Margo!” a boy called out. He was also wearing a chef’s jacket, and carrying a grocery bag full of ingredients. He had a huge smile on his face. His volunteer helper stood behind him with another bag full of food.

  “Hi, Jude,” Margo said. “You’re done shopping already?”

  “Yeah, just finished,” Jude said. “I’m headed back now to start working.”

  Margo nodded.

 

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