Lights, Camera, Cook!

by Charise Mericle Harper

  There were lots of questions.

  “Can we bring blue cheese?”

  Chef Nancy nodded.

  “Dates?”

  She nodded again.

  “Puff pastry?”

  She nodded again. And then after five more times of nodding, once each for wonton skins, pickles, truffle salt, candied ginger, and ancho chili peppers, she pointed to a large cooler on wheels.

  “All your special items will go into this cooler. If they can’t come, I will let you know.”

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  As always, the pantry was well-stocked. There was a wide assortment of fruits, vegetables, and spices, as well as basic cooking supplies like oils, dairy items, and staples. It had everything a chef could want. Rae stopped and looked around. Usually she had to rush, but today she could take her time. There was even time to talk.

  “Where do you think we’re going?” asked Tate.

  “What do you think we’ll be making?” asked Caroline.

  Oliver was in a better mood. He joined in too. “Maybe it’s a barbecue. It has to be something unusual. Otherwise they’d just have us cooking in the filming studio.”

  Rae nodded. She hadn’t thought about that. Oliver was smart that way. He really thought things through. Oliver picked walnuts, maple syrup, and blue cheese and put them in his basket.

  Caroline shook her head. “I hope you’re wrong! I’ve never cooked outside before.” She liked a real stove and real tools—the kind you plugged into the wall.

  Rae didn’t know what to think. Chef Gary had a reputation. He was famous for cooking and eating all sorts of strange things.

  “I’ll be okay as long as we don’t have to cook anything disgusting.” Saying it out loud was a mistake—Tate was listening.

  He stepped up. “Like what? Fish heads, eyeballs, worms, brains . . . ?”

  Rae waved her hands, but did that make him stop? Of course not.

  “Tripe, liver . . .”

  Rae pushed past him, to get away and to collect her three items. Choosing wasn’t easy. She was the last to leave the pantry. She added candied ginger, puff pastry, and ancho chili powder to the cooler. Sweet or savory, she was ready.

  I’m hoping the challenge will be a main course with a regular protein, nothing weird. I don’t want to say anything bad, but Chef Gary eats stuff I would not want to cook. On one of his shows, he ate stinkbugs.

  I’m hoping the challenge will be upscale barbecue. I like to barbecue in the summer, so I’d be really comfortable with this kind of challenge.

  I’m hoping the challenge will be a fancy appetizer or dessert. Maybe we’ll get to cook for some famous guests.

  I’m hoping the challenge will not be dessert. I checked out some recipes last night and brought some Korean chili paste with me. I really want to try it out and it’s too spicy to put in a sweet thing.

  Chapter 22

  he secret destination was forty minutes away. Everyone piled into the van, and on the way, the kids looked out the window for clues.

  Apple orchard, blueberry farm, diner, they named off the things they saw.

  “Fairground.” Caroline pointed. “Look, there’s a sign.”

  Tate read it out loud: “Hendrick’s County Fair, three miles.” And then a second later he was shouting, “Chef Nancy! Chef Nancy! Is that it? Are we going to the fair?”

  Chef Nancy looked back from the passenger seat and shrugged, but everyone noticed that she was smiling.

  The next three miles seemed to take forever. Everyone was anxious to get there, especially Caroline. She loved county fairs—she’d been once before, with her summer camp. She’d asked to go again, but her mom wouldn’t take her. Too crowded, said her mom, and the smell of frying food makes me nauseous. They use cheap oil and they don’t clean their fryers. Caroline had begged to go, but her mother hadn’t changed her mind.

  The van let them off at the entrance. Chef Nancy gestured toward the back of the fairground. “We’ll have to walk through the whole thing to get to the cooking tent.”

  Caroline didn’t mind—that meant they could look around, but she was wrong. There wasn’t time for sightseeing. Chef Nancy was on a mission and moving fast. Caroline had to take running steps just to keep up. Still, no one could stop her from breathing—sweet, salty, oily, spicy . . . Her mother was wrong. The fair smelled delicious.

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  Stepping into the tent was like stepping into the filming studio back at Porter Farm. The workstations were exactly the same. This wasn’t an ordinary tent—it had walls on two sides, workstations, an area for the pantry, a sitting area with tables and chairs, and something else behind a big curtain at the very back. Chef Gary Lee and Chef Aimee Copley walked over, a cameraperson following them.

  “Welcome! Welcome!” Chef Gary opened his arms. “Are you excited?”

  Everyone nodded.

  He frowned and cupped his ear. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

  “YES, CHEF!”

  He smiled. “That’s more like it. So, what are you going to do today? Any ideas?”

  “Ride the roller coaster!”

  “Pet the sheep!”

  “Eat cotton candy!”

  “Cook!” said Oliver.

  Chef Gary winked at Oliver. “This young man knows what we’re here for. Okay, Chef Aimee, show them what you’ve got.”

  Chef Aimee held out two corndogs. “It’s food on a stick! And just one of the many different foods on a stick you can find here at the fair. For this challenge we want you to create an upscale savory snack on a stick.”

  While she talked, she waved them around—like a conductor with batons. When it got close to Chef Gary, he leaned over and chomped.

  “AAAH!” Chef Aimee screamed and the corndogs went flying.

  Tate laughed so hard he snorted.

  Chef Gary held up his hand, chewed, and then swallowed. “Delicious! But it might have been better with . . . Any ideas from our young chefs?”

  “Mustard aioli,” said Oliver.

  “Red pepper sauce,” said Tate.

  “Melted brie,” said Caroline.

  “Cilantro pesto,” said Rae.

  Chef Gary licked his lips and leaned toward Chef Aimee.

  “I think we’ve picked the right young chefs for this competition.”

  He turned back to the kids.

  “We can’t wait to see what you come up with. For inspiration, we’re going to send you out into the fair in pairs, to see how many snacks on a stick you can find. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

  The cameras turned off and Chef Gary came over and shook everyone’s hand.

  Chef Aimee patted Caroline on the shoulder. “Remember, have fun.”

  Caroline nodded. That wouldn’t be hard. The fun part had already started.

  Chapter 23

  aroline grabbed Rae’s hand and swung it high in the air. “I’m so glad we got to pick our own partners!”

  “Me too!” Rae gave her a fast hug.

  Before they went off to explore the fair, Chef Nancy explained the rules. “You’ll have money and be on your own except for the camerapeople. Tate and Oliver, you’ll have Janet, and Rae and Caroline, you’ll have Mark. They’ll be following you and filming everything.”

  Chef Nancy handed each group a basket and then pointed to her watch. “Janet and Mark will keep track of the time, and signal you when you need to head back.”

  Mark and Janet gave Chef Nancy a thumbs-up.

  Chef Nancy was still talking, but Caroline heard only bits and pieces. “Not a race . . . come back with samples . . . cover different areas.” It was hard to concentrate on the words, because her nose was working overtime. What was that delicious smell? Kettle corn? Corn fritter? Donut?

  And then Rae was pulling her hand. She’d missed the signal. The hour was starting.

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  Food on a stick was not hard to find. The hard part was not eating it.

  Caroline held a dee
p-fried Oreo up to her nose and sniffed.

  Rae poked her. “No licking!”

  Caroline nodded and put the Oreo down, but Rae didn’t trust her. She took the basket away.

  “I’ll carry it.”

  “Good thinking.” Caroline licked her fingers. “I don’t trust me either.”

  At first everything seemed delicious, but after a while Caroline wasn’t so sure—maybe her mother was right. The smell was a little overpowering. Rae was struggling with the basket, so Caroline took a side. “It’s okay, I’m over it. Not hungry anymore. Isn’t it weird how mostly everything on a stick is deep fried?”

  Rae nodded and pointed to the bottom of the basket. It was soaked with oil.

  ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

  When the hour was up, Caroline and Rae went back to the tent and lined up their samples on a table. There was a deep-fried Twinkie on a stick, deep-fried cereal on a stick, deep-fried peanut butter pickle on a stick, deep-fried corn on the cob on a stick, deep-fried bacon-wrapped turkey leg on a stick, deep-fried Oreo on a stick, deep-fried cheese on a stick, deep-fried brownie on a stick, deep-fried lasagna on a stick, deep-fried wontons on a stick, grilled shrimp on a stick, a candy apple on a stick, and finally, cotton candy on a stick.

  Rae wasn’t sure about the cotton candy. Was that really a food?

  Oliver and Tate had an impressive collection too. They added them to the table. Lined up in a row, the foods on a stick did not look delicious. They looked brown, greasy, and disgusting.

  “Attention, junior chefs!” Chef Gary raised his arms. “We have a twist to this challenge.” Everyone froze. “You will not be using a deep fryer in this challenge because . . . Can anyone tell me why?”

  Tate waved his hand. “Because all the deep-fried stuff has already been invented.”

  Chef Gary laughed. “True, but not the right answer.”

  Oliver gave a try. “Excuse me, Chef, but is it because it’s not heart-healthy?”

  “Yes!” Chef Gary held up the deep-fried Oreo on a stick. “A good chef makes food to nourish the body. Is this good for your body?”

  “NO, CHEF!”

  “CUT!” shouted Steve.

  “What?” Tate looked confused. “Aren’t we starting the challenge?”

  Chef Nancy pointed to a table at the back of the tent. “We’ll continue with the challenge after lunch. Let’s go eat. We have sandwiches and salads. You must be starving.”

  Rae leaned over to Caroline. “I’m not. Are you?”

  Caroline shook her head. “All I can smell is greasy food.”

  Chapter 24

  hirty minutes later, the cameras were rolling and Tate, Rae, Caroline, and Oliver were lined up in front of the workstations, ready with aprons on.

  Chef Gary looked them over. This was serious—no one smiled. “The challenge I’m giving you today is to make a non-deep-fried savory snack on a stick. Do you understand?”

  “YES, CHEF!”

  “You’ll have five minutes in the pantry and then forty minutes to cook. Your time starts now!”

  Everyone raced to the pantry. Of course they were nervous, but not about forgetting anything. They each had a list taped to the inside bottom of their basket, where the cameras couldn’t see it. That was a trick of the show. Five minutes wasn’t a lot of time in the pantry. It helped that they had done some practicing.

  “TIME!” called Chef Gary. “Back to your workstations.”

  “CUT!” yelled Steve. Everyone stopped and ran back, but instead of unpacking and starting to work, they put their baskets on their tables and waited. This was another trick of the show. The cameras turned off—this part would not be on TV. Chef Nancy walked to each workstation to visit and go over cooking strategies. She offered up suggestions, too.

  “Caroline, get those profiteroles into the oven as fast as possible. They’ll need to cool before you add your fillings.”

  “Oliver, if you moisten your crispy chip in the very center, you’ll be able to skewer it without breaking it apart.”

  “Rae, you’ll need a crispy crust on the corn cake to keep it on the stick, and try to keep them small, or they’ll be heavy.”

  “Tate, you’ll want your sauce to stick to the meatball. Try for a thick mayonnaise consistency, and use a squeeze bottle for visual effect.”

  Once Chef Nancy was done, Steve gave the signal for the cameras to turn back on. Chef Gary walked to the center of the room, raised his hand, and shouted, “Let’s get cooking!”

  Suddenly the tent was bustling with activity.

  Chef Aimee and Chef Gary visited the contestants while they worked.

  Rae blanched three ears of corn, cut off the kernels, and dropped them into a hot pan. She shook the pan, flipping the kernels from the back to the front.

  Chef Aimee watched. “Nice pan skills! What’s next?”

  Rae didn’t look up—she was too focused. “I’m frying the corn cakes with bacon fat to give them a crispy glaze. I’ll put them on my skewer between slices of crispy pork belly.”

  “Sounds delicious—I like the variations in textures. Nicely done!”

  Rae looked up and smiled. A compliment from Chef Aimee was worth stopping for.

  “What’s cooking, Tate?” It was Chef Gary. “I hear you’re something of an inventor.”

  Tate nodded. “I like to make my own recipes and try new combinations. I’m making Afghan lamb meatballs with a spicy Korean Gochujang yogurt sauce and crispy rice bites.”

  “Sweet, spicy, savory—you’ve got a lot going on there. I like the fusion of cuisines; it’s interesting. Can’t wait to taste it.” Chef Gary tapped the table. “Keep up the energy—you have a lot to do.”

  Tate chopped his onion at lightning speed. He didn’t look up, but he hoped Chef Gary and the cameras were watching.

  Oliver knew how to make steak: salt, pepper, and then a two-minute sear per side for a perfect medium rare. He was making steak bites with blue cheese butter and a sprinkling of crushed walnuts for crunch.

  “And to accompany it?” asked Chef Gary.

  Oliver picked up a potato. “Frites would’ve been perfect, but since I can’t use the deep fryer, I’m improvising.”

  Chef Gary nodded. “Great things can come out of improvisation.”

  “Yes, sir.” Oliver picked up a mandolin and started to thinly slice the potato. “I’ll flavor these with garlic, stick them in the broiler, then finish them off with a dusting of dried olives and sea salt.”

  “Good work,” said Chef Gary. “And by the way, that sounds much better than a french fry.”

  Caroline was a mess: she was white as meringue, and flour was everywhere.

  Chef Aimee rushed over to help. “What happened?”

  Caroline was almost in tears. “The flour bag ripped and now there’s too much flour in my bowl. My profiteroles are ruined. And there isn’t time to make more!”

  Chef Aimee looked at her watch. “Thirty minutes left. Can you change gears? Make something different? Take a minute and look over your ingredients.”

  Caroline’s workstation was covered with flour. The butter, the eggs, the milk . . .

  “CREPES!” shouted Caroline. She threw up her arms. A cloud of flour engulfed her.

  Chef Aimee jumped back.

  “I CAN MAKE CREPES!”

  “Yes!” Chef Aimee smiled and brushed off her dress. “You sure can! Now get cooking!”

  Chapter 25

  ime was up. Eight hands were in the air.

  “Hands down,” said Chef Gary. “Please bring your skewers to the front. We can’t wait to see what you’ve made.”

  I made three spicy mini corn cakes to go with my crispy garlic pork belly. The corn cakes are inspired by the flavors of Mexican street corn. My neighbor Mrs. Ramez makes the best elotes! I used chili powder for spice, cheese for creaminess, and lime to add just a bit of tartness.

  I made steak bites with a topping of blue cheese butter and a sprinkling of crushed walnuts and parsley. Not everyone
can cook a steak to perfection. I learned from the best. Each bite is paired with crispy potato chips dusted with salt and dried olives. That way you get the meaty taste of the steak and the salty crunch of the chip.

  I made crepe dumplings. It was last-minute change. Crepes have always been one of my favorites. My mom showed me how to make them. Each skewer has three different cheesy dumplings. There’s brie and sweet pepper jelly, cheddar and apple compote, and goat cheese and basil.

  I made Afghan lamb meatballs drizzled with a spicy Korean Gochujang yogurt sauce and crispy rice bites. My dad inspires my cooking, with his travels in the army. He introduces me to foods from different countries. I just put them together in my own way.

  When everyone was done presenting, Chef Gary made an announcement. “We have another surprise. Your challenge is not over. Chef Aimee and I are not going to be the judges of this challenge.” He paused. “We’re going to let the people at this fair vote for the winner.”

  Caroline looked at Rae, Rae looked at Oliver, and Oliver and Tate both shrugged. They were all confused.

  Chef Gary turned to the back of the tent. “Will our helper chefs please come out to the front!”

  Eight chefs in matching aprons marched out from behind a curtain and stood next to Chef Gary.

  “These chefs are going to help you make fifty duplicates of the skewer you just presented. Then we’ll have fifty people here at the fair try each of your skewers and vote on their favorite. The one with the most votes will be the winner. You’ll each have two helper chefs and two hours to finish this challenge. Can you do it?”