“Is this what you think of my food? My face?” he said, exploding to his feet.
Joachim started to reach across the table to grab at Dermott but stopped, thinking better of it. Dermott was a ghost, after all, and anyway, a judge attacking a contestant was not a good look.
Christelle stepped forward in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
“Well, this does just look like a plate of broken up crackers, and not especially much like what Joachim made, but still... don’t you think you should try it?” she said.
She had no idea what made this a good idea, but it was something, wasn’t it? Everyone else would get their dishes tasted, so why not Dermott.
Dubiously, Zach and Martine took a bite of crushed cracker. They chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.
“Dry as a desert, I’m afraid,” said Martine, “And tasteless. So, in that regard, I have to give you credit; you’ve totally nailed Joachim’s food and his personality!”
Zach started to cough and signaled for a glass of water.
Wade appeared out of nowhere, something he was particularly good at doing, and produced a glass of water for Zach who guzzled it greedily.
“Well, yes, dry is one word for it. Arid. Desiccated. Dehydrated. Brittle. Stale. Wizened. There are other words. It’s not good, my friend. Not good at all. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that you’ve managed to make crackers taste bad, and I hadn’t thought that was possible. What did you do to them?”
Dermott was shocked. He looked down at his dish and frowned. Now that the judges mentioned it, it did look like a plate of broken up crackers, didn’t it? He tentatively took a piece and chewed it carefully.
“Oh no!” he exclaimed, spitting the remnants of his chewed food all over Zach’s face before grabbing at the remnants of the glass of water and chugging it down.
“I’m so sorry!”
Whether Dermott was apologizing for the food or the spitting it wasn’t clear, but either way he grabbed his plate and back away, shuffling over to his workstation to hide. He was clearly going home, and he had no idea what had really happened. What a mess.
Speaking of messes, Wade was attempting to wipe down Zach with a towel. Thankfully, being a ghost, most of the crumbs had gone through Zach and landed on the floor behind him, but a few had got caught and it was these that Wade was trying to deal with. It wasn’t going well. Poor Wade looked completely out of his depth, and Christelle wondered if he really wanted to be here, doing this job, with these people. He never seemed quite at ease with it all.
While no one was looking, Christelle poured a little thyme onto her wrist. She had to break the tension somehow, and an old joke had come to her.
“Well, that was intense!” said Christelle.
She showed her wrist to the camera.
“Would you look at the thyme! Let’s move on!”
The thyme floated to the floor, but the joke seemed to have worked.
General laughter echoed out of the darkness, and even some of the less nervous competitors managed a giggle. The judges had to appreciate the joke as well, and Martine and Zach clearly approved. Joachim was just sitting, arms crossed, not interested in what was going on around him. His food had, in his mind, been insulted, and he was not in the least bit happy about it.
Mona was next. The poor witch was so nervous she was shaking, and the special witch’s hat she had won at the end of the last episode was wobbling with worry on the top of her head. It was all Christelle could do not to stare at the hat and forget what else she was meant to be doing. Maybe that would be for the best since Mona’s food was certainly not up to scratch.
Joachim didn’t even want to taste what he was presented with.
Christelle let out a yelp of amusement. She could see that it was meant to be Joachim because Mona had managed to create his hair quite well, a big coif of blackness. Beyond that, Mona’s artistry had fell to pieces. An eye sloping here, a mouth falling off there. It was not good.
Zach managed a mouthful and Martine took a big bite, probably just to spite Joachim. Zach finished what was in his mouth, a hard trick for a ghost but one he was used to by now, and smiled.
“I tell you what, it might look like a mess and nothing like what my esteemed colleague here produced, or in fact anything like his face, I’ll be honest,” he put an arm around Joachim and squeezed. whether it was to comfort the vampire or tease him it was difficult to tell.
“But it tastes really rather wonderful. You’ve added some herbs that I certainly wouldn’t ever have considered throwing in, and you’ve missed out some that would have bucked against those new ones, so congratulations. It’s not horrible.”
Mona managed a little smile. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible dish after all. All right, it wasn’t what had been asked for in any way, shape, or form, but if it tasted good then surely that was half the battle.
Martine nodded in agreement. She even took another bite.
“Zach’s right. Joachim’s dish was gorgeous, of course it was, even I would be churlish to say otherwise, despite... well, anyway, it was a great cake. This is not that cake, it’s not even red velvet, and you’ve clearly had to rush at the end because, well, look at it, it’s just a general big old mess, but having said all of that, I liked it. Really liked it. You’ve got a definite talent, not in cake decorating, but in flavor. Well done.”
Christelle let out a big breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was pleased for her fellow witch not just because they had that in common but because Mona really did have a lot of promise and she was a genuinely good person along with it. Getting a harsh critique could have devastated her.
Mona picked up her plate to walk away when Joachim stopped her.
“Wait.”
He spoke loud and clear with an authority that no one would dared have ignored.
“Put the plate back down. I think you’ll find the judging isn’t over yet.”
Mona swallowed hard and gently placed the plate back on the bench.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t think you wanted to try it.”
“Oh, but I do.” Joachim smiled. “Especially since my fellow judges seem so complimentary.”
Joachim took a fork and carefully twirled the linguine around the tines. Then he stabbed at a prawn. He delicately put the forkful into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. When he was done, he licked his lips.
He didn’t speak for a long time.
And then...
“Well done. A completely new dish, not what we were looking for, and yet you’ve still managed to make my taste buds tingle. I’m impressed.”
Mona looked as though she was about to burst into tears. This time she grabbed her plate and scooted off to her place in the kitchen without looking back.
Leif was next. The poor little pixie looked rather happy with what he had produced. And Christelle had to say, it looked like a very close approximation of Joachim’s original dish. It might still taste shocking, but the first bit had been a success, so Christelle held out hope. She liked Leif. He didn’t say much, never got the jokes, and always made her feel as though he was scared of her (which he might well have been, for all she knew), but there was something sweet and kind about him. It seemed that the world hadn’t got to him, hadn’t jaded him, and that was refreshing.
So Christelle really hoped that all would work out well for his version of Joachim’s dish.
Joachim was the first to speak. He was excited, it was easy to tell. His eyes were shining, and he spoke quickly.
“Would you look at that!” he exclaimed.
For a moment Joachim’s suave persona fell away and Christelle caught a glimpse of the man underneath. Even Martine was smiling; this was the husband she had once known, before fame had changed him.
Christelle stepped forward.
“So, you think it looks good?” she asked Joachim.
“Well,” said the vampire as the mask slipped back down. “It looks almost exactly like mine, so yes
, it does look good. He’s got the eyes right, got the mouth... it looks professional!”
For a moment Christelle had thought she might have been able to joke a little with Joachim, but she stepped back. Now wasn’t the time. What a shame, she had seen something, some little spark of realness, and now it was gone.
“Well, they say the proof of the red velvet Joachim face cake is in the eating, or something like that, so go ahead and give it a try.”
Joachim hesitated. He looked to Zach and Martine, but neither of them made a move. So instead he picked up a clean fork and did the same trick as he had with Mona’s food, stabbing at each part so he could take a bite of the dish in one mouthful.
As he chewed, all eyes were on him. He looked decidedly uncomfortable about it, not like he had when he was eating Mona’s food. It was such a strange shift in demeanor and personality that Christelle wondered if the vampire was feeling all right. Was he under a spell? Or worse, was he on drugs? Something strange was happening, that was for sure.
“I know it’s important to chew your food, Joachim, but I’m going to have to hurry you just a little – there are still other dishes to try,” said Christelle as gently as she could.
“Of course,” said Joachim, swallowing. “Leif, your food is... excellent. Truly marvelous. I commend it highly, and I don’t say that lightly. Well done, my boy, you’ve done a fabulous job.”
Leif’s eyes widened in shock and pleasure. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been that.
Now Zach and Martine had their turns eating the food. But unlike Joachim’s happy, smiling face, the other two judges were frowning. They glanced at one another and Martine shook her head.
“Can I get another glass of water here please?” she asked, coughing.
“Oh man,” said Zach, “What happened, Leif? There’s way too much pepper in this dish, way too much. If I had a nose I’d be sneezing. I don’t understand.”
This last comment was directed not at Leif, but at Joachim who had failed to mention the pepper and had declared the dish a success.
Martine drank down a whole glass of water and then half of another. Her tongue was on fire with the heat of the pepper. She pointed at Leif to speak, but started coughing again. Instead of saying anything, mainly because she couldn’t but also because she didn’t have to, she just waved him away.
“But... but...” began the little pixie, although he stopped then, unsure of what to say next.
Christelle stepped in for him.
“Okay, clearly there’s been a bit of confusion here. Leif’s cake has got too much pepper in it, I can actually smell it from here and it’s making my nose wrinkle up.”
She stopped, wondering if she was going to sneeze.
“And Zach and Martine felt and tasted - sort of - the effects. But you, Joachim, you said it was good. Congratulated Leif on a great dish. Did you not mind the pepper?”
Joachim started to laugh. It was a big, booming laugh that Christelle didn’t like at all. It felt forced and strange.
“Oh, I got you!” said Joachim to Zach and Martine. He reached his arm around Zach just as the ghost had done to him a little earlier. “I tricked you. Pretending the food was good when it was clearly too peppery. I just wanted to see your faces!”
Martine’s face was that of thunder.
“That’s just cruel, Joachim. Showing your true colors once more, I see. Look at Leif, look at how devastated he is. You did that. Now I know I’m a great one for practical jokes, but I would never have stooped that low!”
Joachim shrugged. He really didn’t look as though he could care less, and a burst of anger flared up in Christelle’s stomach. Leif looked so upset, as though he might cry at any moment, and it was all Joachim’s fault.
“I’m so sorry,” said the pixie, his voice tight and high as he tried to prevent the tears from coming. “I should have tasted-”
“Yes, you should have,” interrupted Joachim. “All chefs have to taste their food, it’s one of the most basic elements of cooking. With cakes, you should bake a separate mini cake that you can test. So, let this be a lesson to you; taste everything in the future so nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Leif had learned a lesson all right, but it was a hard and painful one. More than that, it was embarrassing. He had been used to trick the other judges, and then had been tricked himself. Cruel was certainly the right word. The pixie dragged himself back to his bench, his wings drooping in despair.
Christelle desperately wanted to comfort him, but time was ticking on and she knew she had other contestants to watch over. She promised herself that after the judging was finished, she would find Leif and let him know it was all right. Of course, he could still be voted out, but she doubted that Martine or Zach would allow that. Even if Joachim chose him; Dermott was most definitely in the firing line with his cracker cake.
Henry sauntered up to the table as Christelle pondered these things. He casually flung his plate down onto the table in front of the judges and smiled smugly.
“I think you’ll find it’s all in order,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I always taste my food. Like you say, Joachim, it really is so important to be able to taste everything. I’m sure you can taste every different element of what you put together, can’t you?”
Zach and Martine were a little uncomfortable at the weird way that Henry was talking. Was he criticizing Joachim or praising him? Either way, the situation had turned very strange indeed.
Joachim barely noticed. His eyes flickered from the dish in front of him to Henry and back again.
“Is it really necessary for me to repeat myself?” asked the vampire.
Henry smiled.
“Clearly not. Now, won’t you taste my food? See if it’s as good as it looks?”
Christelle thought that it looked okay. It wasn’t as neat as Joachim’s had been, but it was tidier than Mona’s, and it seemed to have the right ingredients in it. Without tasting it herself she wouldn’t really be able to tell, but there was still something positive to say about the whole thing.
Joachim shook his head.
“No, I think Martine should have the honor this time. Or Zach. I don’t care. One of them can taste your food. I’m not sure they trust me now anyway.”
“Or at all,” added Henry.
“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” said Zach, who couldn’t hold back any longer. “Why the change in attitude, Henry? You’ve always been cocky, but now you’re being downright rude. It’s not pleasant.”
Henry did a funny little bow.
“My apologies, it’s just a little joke between Joachim and myself. I didn’t mean to offend.”
Martine raised an eyebrow at Joachim, wondering if this was true, but there was no reaction from the vampire.
Christelle cleared her throat.
“If somebody doesn’t get to eating something soon, there’s going to be nothing left because I’m on my way with a fork!”
At that, Martine took a mouthful.
“Good,” she said. “Fine. The right ingredients, the right look. Yes, it’s... fine.”
Zach followed suit.
“Umm... yes, it’s lovely, thanks, Henry.”
Henry looked nonplussed. His food, surely, was better than a ‘fine’ and a ‘lovely’. It was sublime. Like nothing on earth. He was due to win this competition, one way or another, but a ‘fine’ and a ‘lovely’ just weren’t going to cut it.
Now it was Joachim’s turn. What would he say?
Joachim certainly made a show of chewing the food. He was thinking things over, deciding what to say rather than thinking of the food itself.
“Henry,” he said at last. “If there is anyone here who can beat that dish, I’ll eat my cape. You’re a worthy competitor. A worthy student.”
That was more like it. That was what Henry had wanted to hear. And about time too. Without saying anything else, he swiped the plate off the table and all but skippe
d back to his place.
Alice strode up to the table and placed her food down. Now this was exciting. This looked amazing. This was Joachim’s dish but with another level of pure indulgence added. Christelle could feel her mouthwatering. Of all the dishes she had seen, Alice’s was the one that she most wanted to eat.
Zach and Martine felt the same. Martine could hardly stop herself from eating long enough to speak, and when she did it was all high praise. And then she went back to eating. Zach had to wrestle the plate away from her so that he could try it, and then he realized just how delicious it was and understood why it had been so hard to grab even a small bite of it.
Finally, it was Joachim’s turn to try Alice’s cake. He only took the smallest mouthful, barely enough to be able to taste anything at all.
“Hmm... shows some good traits, some promise. But it needs work. No. Not good enough, I’m afraid.”
There was a stunned silence across the studio. From the way Martine and Zach were acting, everyone had expected Joachim’s reaction to be similar.
But no.
Not good enough.
Strange words and an even stranger reaction.
Alice was as taken aback as everyone else, and her usual confidence seemed to diminish. She looked from Joachim to the others and back again, even turning around to gauge the reaction of the rest of the contestants and the crew. She had no words. Blinking, unsure of what had just happened, Alice returned to her place in the kitchen.
“Aaaaand.... Cut!”
“THAT WAS INTENSE!” Christelle said to Sol as she walked away from the contestants and the judges, trying not to be noticed.
“I’ve got a headache again. So much anger and trickery. I wonder if it’s always like this?”
“If what is always like this?” asked Daegal, who had snuck up behind her.
Christelle turned quickly, her mouth agape.
“And by the way, you do know that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, right?”
Christelle nodded.
“Well aware, thanks. But I wasn’t talking to myself, I was talking to Sol. It was a private conversation.”
Daegal held his hands up in mock surrender.
Kitchen Witch Wars and the Chef Who Nailed It Page 6