Where There's a Whisk

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  “Good luck.”

  “You too,” he says, picking up his tray. “You sure you don’t want me to pass you something on the DL?”

  “Tempting,” I say, “but I think I’m going to play it straight.”

  “Your call, but don’t say I didn’t try.”

  I shake my head and use my fork to pick up the last bite of my salad.

  I watch as the PAs begin to direct everyone to where Jessica is standing outside the competition tent and decide I better head over there before someone is sent to track me down. She turns to look at us, and I see Paulie stand up a little straighter, so I do the same.

  “Chefs, are you ready for your first Landmark Challenge?”

  “Yes,” I call out, my voice blending with everyone else’s. My stomach tenses up in anticipation.

  Jessica clasps her hands together in front of her and laughs. “Today, you will have two hours to create a menu item worthy of the Bronx Zoo. And you’ll need to make one hundred samples.”

  “In two hours?” I say under my breath.

  But Jessica’s not done. “But there’s a catch.” She pauses, scanning our faces. “The only appliance at each of your stations is a single cooktop.”

  This challenge keeps getting worse.

  This news doesn’t go over well, and there are a few audible gasps from the other end of the lineup.

  “Don’t worry. We’ve still got the blast chillers, the ice cream maker, and two ovens.” She pauses. “For you to share.”

  She’s not making this any better.

  “Unlike the elimination challenges, each Landmark Challenge will have a special guest judge, or in this case, judges.” Another pause. “Are you ready to meet your judges?”

  I clap, and everyone follows, but I’m nervous about who we’re making these one hundred treats for.

  Jessica smiles and motions down the path where a parade of children are marching toward us. “The Boys and Girls Club Day Camp from PS 89.”

  Her words are drowned out as the kids begin cheering.

  I turn to Hakulani. “They’re so cute.”

  He nods. “And there are a lot of them.”

  “Hey, kids,” Jessica says, waving. They all wave and yell hello back.

  Several of the cast smile widely, but a couple of them look as nervous as I feel.

  Jessica continues. “When I count to three, everyone but Peyton will be allowed to go to the pantry to get everything needed for your treat.”

  She looks directly at me. “Peyton, since you came in last in the initial challenge, you have a five-minute penalty. This means not only will you be the last to get your supplies, but you will also have less time to plan and finish your dish.”

  I nod my head and look nervously at the big countdown clock perched over the tent opening. This is the worst-case scenario.

  “Three,” Jessica says, beginning the countdown.

  “Two.”

  Everyone except me crouches down in a half-racing stance, preparing to bolt into the tent and get the best ingredients before they’re gone. Meanwhile, I still don’t have an idea about what I’m going to make. I take a slight step back so I don’t get caught up in the rush forward of the others.

  “One,” Jessica says, and I can feel the whooshing as everyone sprints toward the tent.

  A moment later, she is standing next to me, facing the clock.

  “Good luck, Peyton,” Dani calls from the tent. “You’re going to need it.”

  I know she’s taunting me on purpose. I just can’t understand why she suddenly cares so much when she barely gave me the time of day before.

  Jessica either doesn’t hear Dani or pretends not to. I glance over and see her smile in place, just in case the cameras turn on us, but each crew member is currently busy chasing after the rest of the cast and getting set up in the tent. “In a couple of minutes, we’ll do a little chitchat, and then I’ll send you into the tent,” she says, smoothing her hair down. This only serves to remind me of my wild mane that is threatening to break loose from the scrunchie at any minute.

  I nod and try to come up with ideas for things that are quick and easy, but also appealing to kids. Inside, I can see everyone racing back to their prep stations, their arms loaded with all kinds of ingredients. Sitting here, on the sidelines, sucks. As I watch Malik and Lola come back from the second trip into the pantry, I stop trying to figure out what I’m going to make. There’s no way, even without my five-minute penalty, I could bake something, but the thought of being in that tent, working with icing or chocolate while the heat just keeps building, sounds like torture. Besides, even if I had an idea, the chances of the ingredients still being available are going to be pretty slim. I take a deep breath to slow my racing heart and try to stay focused. It’s not like I haven’t made dinner from a bare cabinet before, I remind myself. I’ll just have to get creative. Like the time I made homemade peanut butter and chocolate cups for my elementary school bake sale in fifth grade. They were the hit of the sale, and no one knew that everything came from the local food pantry.

  Jessica clears her throat, and I look up to find the camera moving in front of us. “You ready?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “So, Peyton, tough luck about the five-minute delay, huh?”

  “To be honest, I don’t even know what’s going to be left. But I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet. Hopefully being at the beautiful Bronx Zoo will give me some inspiration.”

  Where did those words come from?

  Jessica seems pleased. “Let’s hope.” She glances at the clock. “You can go in three. Two. One.”

  The word still lingers in the air as I run so fast I almost knock over the camera guy as he swings around to follow Malik.

  I was right about one thing. By the time I get to the pantry, almost everything in the refrigerator is gone. And the bread pile is obliterated. I grab a few packages of marshmallows and milk chocolate chips, which are the only sweets left on the shelf, and head to the fruits and vegetables that, while pretty worked over, still have a decent selection. I pick up a couple of pineapples, the last four packages of strawberries, and every banana I can find.

  Turns out Zara is going to be my inspiration after all. I quickly set up a double boiler on the cooktop and drop the chocolate chips in so they start melting. Grabbing a sharp knife, I slice the prickly skin off the pineapple and chop it into chunks. I check the chocolate, giving it a quick stir before turning down the heat. As an afterthought I quickly run back into the pantry for some cinnamon that I can sprinkle in to jazz it up a bit. Grabbing a fork, I dip it into the chocolate to make sure I haven’t overdone it. The chocolate is rich and full of flavor. No generic ingredients in this treat.

  Dumping the strawberries on my prep station, I sort through them, picking out the best ones before cutting off the green leafy tops. When I check the chocolate once more, I’m happy to see it’s almost ready.

  Finally, I peel the bananas and chop them into pieces. The smell of the chocolate attracts Paulie’s attention.

  “What are you making?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “What I know is that chocolate smells like I need to put it in a glass and drink it.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  I turn off the heat on the cooktop and set up cooling racks before sliding parchment paper underneath.

  “What are you doing?” Paulie asks again.

  “Chocolate-covered everything.”

  “When this is over, you have to tell me what you saw in the zoo that made you think chocolate piles would be enticing. Because I was over by Happy the Elephant’s enclosure, and—”

  “Just stop right there,” I say, holding up the chocolate-covered spoon. “Or I will splatter you. I mean it.”

  “All right,” he says with a laugh, holding up his hands. “Calm down.”

  Once I’m done, I line up one hundred pieces of each fruit on separate racks. I take a deep breath before spooning the chocola
te over each piece.

  “Twenty minutes,” Jessica says over the din of the chopping and stirring.

  I glance up in disbelief, but the countdown clock that matches the one outside confirms it. Somehow a hundred minutes have flown by.

  “You gonna make it?” Hakulani asks on his way back from grabbing his mini cookie bowls out of the oven.

  I gape at him. “You baked? How?”

  “I’m not giving away my secrets,” he says with a laugh.

  Paulie snorts. “You mean your pre-made cookie dough secret?”

  “Hey,” Hakulani says, pointing at Paulie. “I didn’t see you making the krispie treat from scratch.”

  “You guys keep talking,” I say, picking up two racks and rushing over to the blast chiller. The other two shelves already have sheets on them. “Crap.”

  “You need one?” Inaaya asks. “My stuff should be out in a minute or two.”

  I look at her. “Seriously? I thought we were friends outside the kitchen but cutthroat in it?”

  “Oh, no, we’re still cutthroat… you just owe me now.”

  I smile. “Fair enough.” I return with my third rack just as Inaaya is pulling her trays out.

  While the chocolate coating is hardening, I pull out one hundred long lollipop sticks, count out two hundred marshmallows, and lay out more parchment paper. I’m down to fifteen minutes. I have to focus. Of course, that is made even more difficult with Hakulani and Paulie trying to one-up each other on either side of me as the camera hovers back and forth over my station to catch every second of the banter.

  Racing back to the blast chiller, I retrieve all three pans before frantically sticking one piece of strawberry, pineapple, and banana onto the stick with a marshmallow in between. I finish the last one with one second to spare. But my dish is done, and all things considered, I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out.

  One by one, we present our treats to the kids while staff members pass around the samples. When it’s my turn, I step up to the microphone and tell them what I learned about lemurs in the Madagascar exhibit. “While little Zara probably hasn’t had chocolate before, I know for a fact that she loves strawberries and pineapple and bananas. In fact, watching her eat her treat is what inspired me to make these banana split kabobs.”

  I hear a couple of giggles and even some squeals of delight as the kids bite into the kabobs. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough to win. In fact, when the voting is over, there’s a tie for first between Dani and Paulie.

  Jessica calls up both of them. “Since you each got the same number of votes, you will both have an advantage in the elimination challenge that you can use—or not use if you decide. And you’ll find out about that…”

  Trademark pause.

  “… when we get back to the kitchen.”

  There is a collective groan, but Jessica just laughs.

  “It’s only a day away. Until then, happy cooking, everyone!”

  A few beats pass and the camera operator says, “And we’re out.”

  “You won,” I say to Paulie, giving him a hug. “That’s amazing.”

  “It’s a tie,” he says, wiping down his station.

  Why is he not feeling the same excitement about his win the way I am? “Do you see Dani pouting over the tie?”

  He glances over at Dani, who is high-fiving Malik. “You’re right. I am happy.”

  “Yeah, you are. And you know how these advantages work. There’s a good chance you’ll be able to inflict culinary pain on any of us. I would kill to have a tie with anyone right now and not be at the bottom.”

  I’m joking, of course. I haven’t watched enough unsolved crime shows to get away with murder.

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  AS THE PAS BEGIN TO PACK UP PRODUCTION CITY, we’re led back to the bus. I feel like I’ve been up since yesterday. While the rest of us are on the bus, Jessica and the camera crew ask Dani and Paulie how they feel about winning the first advantage. I try not to feel envy, but I thought I would come here and be a big deal. Turning away from the interview, I look out the window as the city rushes by and remind myself that just getting on the show is an opportunity of a lifetime.

  No one talks during the elevator ride to the apartment. As the first person to step in the hallway, I head straight to the bedroom with the intention of grabbing my things and getting a hot shower.

  “It’s my feet that are killing me,” I groan, dropping into the plush chair in my room.

  “No kidding,” Inaaya says, sitting next to me. “I must have run all over that zoo. What was your favorite part?”

  “That would be the lemurs.”

  She tilts her head. “I didn’t see any lemurs.”

  “They were in a building with lions in front of it?”

  She looks at me like I might be joking. “Yeah, that might have thrown me. What else did you see?”

  “That’s it.”

  Her eyes widen. “That’s it? You went to one exhibit. A whole zoo to explore and you went to one exhibit, and you were still able to come up with something to make?”

  I shrug. “What can I say? Inspiration can come from anywhere.”

  “Well, all I can say is that if this is any indication what the elimination is going to be like, I should probably get sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.”

  “You’re not going to get something to eat?” I ask.

  “Mmm. I don’t think so. Since I got to present first, I went back to craft services and ate. I think, just this one time, I pick sleep over food.”

  I had been so nervous presenting my snack bar creation that I hadn’t even thought about going back for food. It’s something to keep in mind for next time. Assuming there is a next time. “I’m going to see what’s in the kitchen. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you something back for later?” But Inaaya is already asleep, her body curled up into a ball.

  I leave the room, careful to shut the door behind me as quietly as possible. The door to the other girls’ room is shut, and I can hear hushed voices coming from inside. In the kitchen, I find Malik and Adam standing in front of the refrigerator, staring inside.

  “Anything sound good?” I ask, standing on my tiptoes to look over their shoulders.

  “Someone went grocery shopping, but I don’t know what they were thinking about when they bought this stuff,” Malik says.

  “Well I’m making grilled portobello mushroom burgers,” Adam says, reaching around Malik to pull out a couple packages.

  “You can’t call something a burger if it doesn’t have meat,” Malik says with a scoff.

  “I just did, so obviously you can,” Adam countered.

  Malik shakes his head. “Leave half the grill for me to make my world-famous burgers,” he says, pulling out a package of ground sirloin. “Peyton can be the judge.”

  “Oh no,” I say, stepping back and holding my hands up in surrender. “Hasn’t there been enough judging for one day?”

  “Oh come on, Peyton,” Adam says. “There aren’t any high stakes.”

  Malik grins. “Bragging rights are the highest steaks of them all. Get it?” he asks, holding up his package. “Steaks?”

  “Ha, ha,” Adam says, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow as he moves past Malik. “Oh, we could do steak fries in the air fryer. I saw some russet potatoes in the pantry.”

  Malik nods. “Okay. I can get behind that.”

  Adam ushers me out of the kitchen. “You can’t see the magic. You’re only judging the final process.”

  “I didn’t say I was judging at all.”

  “You are,” Malik says, waving me out of the room.

  I’m trying to pin down the moment when I agreed to this but realize I’m getting a free meal and decide to go with it. “Fine, I’ll be on the roof. But if you try to serve those steak fries with regular ketchup, I’m docking points.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Adam says in complete seriousness.

  Malik grins. “Girl, you kno
w I’m going to bring it. Now get out so I can show this fool who’s the king of the grill.”

  “You talk too much,” Adam says, but his grin softens the words.

  I pull open the door that leads to the roof and climb the steps. When I emerge, I see Hakulani reclining on one of the chaise lounges, soaking in the late afternoon sun.

  “Hey,” I say as I approach. “Mind if I join you?”

  He swings his legs around. “Actually, I was just getting ready to move. If I lie here another minute, I’m probably going to fall asleep.”

  “Inaaya’s crashed out in our room right now.”

  “So is Paulie.”

  I laugh. “This competition might turn us into a bunch of old people.”

  “Are Malik and Adam still staring into the fridge?”

  “Oh no. They are now in a burger cook-off.”

  Hakulani’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

  “Oh yeah, and I get to be the judge.”

  “Can I get in on this action?”

  I nod toward the door. “Better let them know I recruited you.”

  Hakulani jumps up, then heads down the stairs. While he’s gone, I stand and walk to the railing, leaning over to look at the street below. It’s the first time I’ve been alone since I entered the set two days ago. A slight breeze picks up, blowing my hair off my neck. In the absence of people, the surrealness of the situation drops on me like a ton of bricks—and with it comes the gravity of tomorrow. This entire experience could be over in just twenty-four hours and tomorrow night I could be on my way back to Florida with nothing but a couple of memories and a wistfulness of what might have been.

  Thankfully, my downward spiral is interrupted by Hakulani’s pushing open the metal door.

  “Good news,” he says, pausing to turn on the grill before coming to stand next to me. “I was able to convince them that you were in need of an additional judge. They agreed and now I don’t have to figure out how to feed myself.”

  I smile at him as his arm brushes mine. “I know the show probably thinks they’re being nice to us by letting us make our own food, but after working all day in the kitchen to make food for other people, sometimes all I can do is crack open a blue box of mac and cheese for dinner,” I say.