The Heat Is On

by Charise Mericle Harper

  Caroline nodded and stamped out seven more circles. She placed them on the baking sheets. When Oliver pulled out the cheesecake, she was ready with the cookies.

  “Twelve minutes,” said Oliver

  Caroline set the timer. “Should we use my dulce de leche or yours?”

  Oliver paused. “Let’s use yours—I want you to feel good about this challenge.”

  “Really? Okay.” Caroline ran off the fridge, smiling. Oliver really was a team player!

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  “FORTY MINUTES!”

  Rae pulled out three trays from the oven.

  Tate held up a dark brown cookie. “Oh no.”

  “This one too!” Rae tossed it to the side.

  Chef Gary arrived just as Tate was doing a cookie count. “Thirty-three perfect ones for alafores! It’s good we made extras.”

  “What’s next?” asked Chef Gary.

  “More cookies, pinwheels.” Tate ran to the freezer to get the dough.

  While he was gone, Rae stirred the dulce de leche. It was room temperature and perfectly spreadable. She lifted the spoon, sniffed it, then put it back down.

  Chef Gary laughed. “It’s hard not to lick that, isn’t it?”

  Rae nodded. “I didn’t know it before, but dulce de leche is heaven!”

  Tate set the pinwheel cookie log on the table. “Who gets to cut it?”

  Rae handed him a knife. “Master Chopper.”

  Three minutes later, eighteen perfect pinwheel circles were laying on the baking sheet.

  Chef Gary tapped the table. “Nice job, you two.”

  Tate put the baking sheet into the oven while Chef Gary moved to the center of the room. “TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES!”

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  Rae and Tate were right on schedule. There wasn’t time to rest, but they weren’t in a panic. They worked together on the alfajores, spreading the dulce de leche and then rolling the edges of the cookie in coconut.

  “It’s good we had extras,” said Tate. He pushed a broken wafer to the side. “They sure break easy—they’re so crumbly.”

  Caroline and Oliver were not so fortunate.

  “Do you think they’ll notice?” whispered Caroline. “We should have turned the baking pans around.”

  Oliver quickly covered the brown edges of the cookie with a generous scoop of dulce de leche. “We’ll roll them in extra coconut. No one will know. The dulce de leche is all they can taste.”

  Caroline nodded, looked around, then stopped. It was overwhelming. There was so much to do! They still had to make cotton candy, cotton candy whipped cream, and the sugar cone cups. She leaned on the counter with her head in her hands. It was too much!

  Oliver rushed over. “What are you doing?” Caroline didn’t move. He tried again. “Go make the cotton candy. You wanted to do it. GO! I’ll do the cookie cups.”

  Caroline straightened up, glared at Oliver, and stomped over to the cotton candy machine.

  Oliver shook his head. They were in trouble. There was no way he could finish this alone. He dropped a spoonful of cookie batter onto the parchment paper and swirled it into a perfect circle. In ten minutes these would be baked, and Caroline had to be back to help shape them.

  Cotton candy is magical. It looks like a cloud, but it’s more than that. It really has powers. Making the cotton candy changed everything for me. I don’t know if it was the color, or the smell, or the fluffiness, but it really made me feel hopeful!

  “TEN MINUTES!”

  “Last five cookie cups!” said Oliver. He pulled the tray out of the oven, and then he and Caroline peeled off the parchment paper, and quickly shaped the cookies over upside-down ramekins. Once they were cool, they’d be ready to use.

  We’re going to fill the sugar cookie cups with scoops of cotton candy cheesecake, then add cotton candy whipped cream and top the whole thing off with sprinkles and pink cotton candy. It’ll look festive, and taste delicious. It’s a winning combination.

  Putting the ice cream milkshakes together was my favorite part. We put frosting on the rim of the glasses to hold the cotton candy in place, then filled them with the milkshake mixture and added cotton candy whipped cream and sprinkles. And last but not least, we added the pinwheel cookie and a straw.

  “TIME!”

  Caroline put her hands in the air. A second later, they fell heavily against her sides. She was exhausted.

  Chapter 23

  he judges walked back and forth between the workstations.

  Chef Aimee pointed to the milkshakes. “Festive and colorful!”

  Chef Gary admired the cookie cups. “Inventive and useful.”

  Chef Porter studied the alfajores. “Classic and sophisticated.”

  Oliver, Rae, Caroline, and Tate stood watching, too tired to talk. When the judges were done, they stood in front of the young chefs and applauded—even Chef Porter.

  Chef helpers came in to pack and transport the desserts to the Flower Meadow tent for the judging. Caroline watched them go. She sighed as the door closed. “This is the hard part—waiting!”

  Tate grabbed a juice box. “Well, I don’t mind it. I’m happy I’m here.”

  “Me too!” said Oliver, and he tossed him an orange. Playing catch was their thing. Tate smiled and threw it back.

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  An hour later everyone was back in the golf cart.

  The judges and cameras were waiting in the second room, just like last time, but this time Olivia, her parents, and the special friends—four boys and four girls—were there too.

  Chef Gary motioned the chefs forward. “Welcome back!” He introduced the young chefs, then turned to Chef Aimee.

  She waved a stack of cards. “We have the results. This was a tightly fought competition, and there were some great comments. We’ll start with the cotton candy dessert.”

  Chef Aimee pointed to Oliver and Caroline. “Your cheesecake dessert was a big home run in the taste department: delicious, tongue-candy, drool-worthy, yummy, excellent, fantastic-licious—these are just some of the comments. However, not everyone was excited about the cookie cup. There were some concerns about it crumbling and being messy.”

  Chef Aimee pointed at Rae and Tate. “Wow! Those milkshakes got a lot of smiles. Visually, it was the clear winner: Wonderful, best-brain-freeze, outstanding, scrumptious, delectable, glamtastic—very good comments. However, a number of people thought it might be too sweet.”

  Chef Porter put an arm around Mrs. Rios and patted her shoulder. “Mrs. Rios was very generous with us and shared her family’s recipe for alfajores. The winning team will be responsible for the alfajores served at the party. This continues a tradition started many generations ago. It is a great honor. I have asked Mrs. Rios to introduce the winning team.”

  Mrs. Rios coughed nervously. She put her fingers to her lips and made a kissing sound.

  Rae stifled a giggle.

  “The dulce de leche was delicious! The wafer cookies were delicate. My heart is happy. Thank you, Rae and Tate, for making my abuela’s alfajores!”

  Rae and Tate grinned, but who was the BIG winner?

  Chef Gary stepped to the front. He thanked Mr. and Mrs. Rios, Olivia, and all her friends.

  Caroline felt hot, too hot. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve. This waiting was torture. She shifted uncomfortably.

  “Caroline and Oliver, your cotton candy dessert was delicious, but hard to eat. There were a few standout alfajores in your collection, but unfortunately they were standing out for the wrong reason.”

  Oliver stared at the ground.

  Caroline turned a bright shade of red.

  Chef Gary frowned. “We’ve covered this before. When something is less than perfect, we leave it off the plate—we don’t try to hide it.”

  Chef Porter turned to Rae and Tate and smiled. “You made us proud. Congratulations, Rae and Tate. You are the winners of this challenge.”

  “THANK YOU, CHEF!” And then Tate smiled right ba
ck at Chef Porter.

  “Now it’s two stars each,” whispered Tate. “Anyone could win that Golden Envelope.”

  Rae nodded. It was like starting fresh, like back at the beginning. They all had the same chance.

  Chapter 24

  fter lunch, Rae and Tate left to manage the making and baking of their winning desserts. Oliver and Caroline stayed in the lodge, silent and brooding. Caroline would be called later for her photo shoot for Creative Cooking.

  “This way,” said Chef Nancy, and she pointed to the Porter restaurant kitchen.

  Rae was worried. “Do you think we can do it?”

  “Of course. These are professional chefs. Think of them as your hands. You and Tate are there to help them. To make sure the hands are doing what they need to do.” She smiled. “It’s a good experience. In fact, you might really enjoy it.”

  Chef Nancy was right—it was fun. And Rae and Tate felt like celebrities.

  “Do you think this is how Chef Gary feels?” asked Rae.

  Tate nodded. “And Chef Aimee, too.”

  Six professional chefs meant twelve hands to manage, but it wasn’t hard. The chefs had Mrs. Rios’s recipe, Rae’s dulce de leche, and Rae and Tate to answer their questions. Yes, the dough should be crumbly. Pull the cookies out before they get golden brown. One fast roll in the coconut is best. And when it was time to make the cotton candy milkshake, Tate and Rae put one together for the chefs to copy.

  There was even time for a photo—Tate and Rae standing in the middle of the helper chefs, surrounded by their desserts.

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  Chef Nancy arrived five minutes later. “So? How was it?”

  “I want my own kitchen,” said Tate. “I want to be the boss . . . every day.”

  Rae wasn’t so sure. “I liked it, but I don’t really want to be a boss. I like it when it’s smaller. Maybe two people working together, like in a food truck.”

  Chef Nancy nodded. “That’s what experiences are for. So you can decide what’s good for you.”

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  When they got to the lodge, Rae ran straight to Caroline. “How was the photo shoot? Did you feel like a superstar?”

  “Uncomfortable!” complained Caroline. “I don’t like standing completely still in one place for thirty minutes. I’m glad I’m not a model.”

  Rae laughed and hugged her friend.

  Oliver and Tate were playing catch with a Bosc pear.

  When it was time to leave, Tate waved all the way to the door. “Good luck! Good choices! Good cooking!”

  Rae ran over to give him an extra hug. “Thank you.”

  And then, once again, it was just the three of them.

  Wednesday

  Chapter 25

  hef Nancy arrived at the breakfast table with a happy “Good morning.” “The sun is shining and I’m excited! Today’s excursion is a farmer’s market . . . and not just any farmer’s market, but the biggest one in this region.”

  “Tower Market?” asked Rae.

  “Exactly,” said Chef Nancy. “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Oh my gosh!” Caroline pushed her chair away and stood up. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It’s the place where they throw the fish.”

  Oliver sat up, suddenly interested. “Hey, I’ve seen that place on TV. Do we get to catch fish?”

  Chef Nancy raised her hands. “We won’t know until we get there.”

  Oliver grinned. “That sounds like a yes.”

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  Forty minutes after leaving, they arrived at the Tower Market gates.

  “We have a special pass,” said Chef Nancy. “We can park right in front.” Mark and Janet the camerapeople were waiting, and Steve the producer watched from off to the side.

  The market was noisy, busy, and exciting. There were food stalls everywhere, and people rushed by with bags filled with flowers, fresh produce, meat and cheeses, and anything else you could imagine.

  Chef Nancy pointed to an aisle on the left. “This way to our first stop.”

  Rae found it hard to keep up. There was so much to look at. There wasn’t just food at the market—there were crafts, too! Chef Nancy finally stopped in front of a cheese shop. A lady in an apron was standing out front, waiting for them.

  Chef Nancy shook her hand. “This is Miss Catherine, otherwise known as Catherine Woods. She’s an accomplished cheesemaker and one of the proprietors of Woods Hole Cheese.”

  “Thank you, Chef, and welcome to my stall. My family has been selling cheese at this market for over seventy years. We have our own dairy and make all our cheeses on our farm. We sell cow, goat, and buffalo cheeses. Who here has ever tried to milk a water buffalo?”

  Nobody raised a hand.

  Miss Catherine chuckled. “Well, it’s not easy, because they are very temperamental animals.” She raised a finger. “But it’s worth it. I’ve brought out some samples for you to taste.” She held out a wooden board with two mounds of cheese. “See if you can tell the difference between cow mozzarella and buffalo mozzarella.”

  Oliver raised his hand. “The buffalo mozzarella is creamier and richer. Does it have a higher fat content?”

  “Exactly!” gushed Miss Catherine. “Wow! Well done, young man.”

  Rae frowned. Oliver was always showing off.

  Miss Catherine offered another board of cheeses. There was an aged cheddar, a smoked Gouda, and a Gruyère.

  Caroline raised her hand. “Gruyère is like Swiss cheese, but tangy and better.”

  Miss Catherine nodded. “Well, certainly compared to the processed Swiss cheese you find in the grocery store. Gruyère is actually named after a village in Switzerland.”

  “I like the cheddar,” said Rae. “It’s bitey!”

  Miss Catherine laughed. “I’ve never heard it described that way, but it’s true. It does have a little sharpness to it.”

  “Thank you,” said Chef Nancy, “for sharing your family’s passion with us.”

  Everyone clapped.

  Chef Nancy raised her hand. “Next stop. Follow me.”

  “What’s next?” asked Rae.

  Chef Nancy shook her head and kept walking.

  “Fish!” said Oliver. “I bet it’s fish!”

  After a few more twists and turns down the crowded aisles, they stopped. “LOOK!” shouted Caroline. She tugged on Rae’s arm. “It’s Beckner’s Fish Market!”

  “I’m first,” announced Oliver.

  Rae shrugged—she wasn’t going to fight him on this one. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to catch a fish.

  Chef Nancy waved at a man behind the counter. He waved back and walked out to meet them.

  “Caroline, Rae, and Oliver, this is Jim. His family has operated this fish stall since 1946.”

  “Who likes fish?” asked Jim.

  All hands went up.

  “And shrimp?”

  The hands stayed up.

  “Well, let’s try some samples!”

  There was fresh shrimp, sauteed octopus, seared tuna, and even salmon jerky, and all of it was delicious.

  Oliver raised his hand. “Are we going to catch the fish? Like on TV?”

  “Now?” asked Jim.

  “YES!” Caroline bounced up and down. “But I only want to catch a little one? Something like a tilapia or a fresh water trout?”

  “Whoa! These kids know their fish.” Jim picked a trout out of the case and put it on the counter. He gave Caroline a piece of paper and showed her how to hold her hands. “It’s not like catching a football. It’s more like catching a baby. You have to kind of cradle it. And the paper will help you grip it. These fish are slippery.”

  A crowd was gathering to watch. Rae was glad she wasn’t first. Jim positioned Caroline across the aisle then moved back to the fish counter. “Are you ready?”

  Caroline raised her hand. A second later a fish was flying across the aisle.

  “HUZZA!” cheered the crowd. Caroline had caught it.

&nbs
p; Oliver was next, and then Rae.

  I dropped my fish. I don’t know how Caroline was able to hold on to hers. It was so slippery. Oliver caught his, and of course it was bigger than ours. My poor little tilapia. I felt bad when it hit the pavement.

  After the fish-catching, Chef Nancy led the group back behind Jim’s stall. There was a long table set up with three cutting boards, three knives, and three fish. “How about a challenge?” asked Jim.

  Rae groaned.

  Oliver smiled and took an apron from Chef Nancy. Those restaurant lessons were about to pay off. “Thank you, ma am.

  Chapter 26

  im moved to the head of the table. “We’re going to do this together. I’m going to show you how to fillet and debone a trout.” He held up his knife. “A good sharp filleting knife is the only tool you’ll need.”

  “And this isn’t a race,” warned Chef Nancy. “We are only looking for the cleanest fillet. That will be the winner.”

  Rae followed along but it wasn’t easy. There was a trick to the knife. It had a flexible blade and you had to keep it pressed against the table while cutting.

  I know it wasn’t a race, but I finished first. I know how to clean, fillet, debone, and skin a fish. My fillet was the cleanest—not one single bone, and the skin was free from flesh. You have to respect talent.

  “Only three bones!” said Caroline. “And it was my first time. I bet I could get good at that.”

  Rae shook her head. “Not me. I totally messed up—nine bones! And worse, now Oliver’s in the lead with the most stars!”