by Becky Monson
As if to solidify that this is it, a producer counts down from five and signals with his hand to Franky that the camera is rolling.
“Welcome to Cupcake Battles, where four teams will compete to be crowned king of cupcakes. Only one team can take the crown. And the rest? Well they will have to go home with their tails tucked between their legs.”
Oh, gosh. I don’t want to go home with my tail tucked between my legs. I think I just realized right now that I have to give this all I’ve got. So far I’ve mostly just wanted to get through it, with very low expectations; no expectations is more like it. But suddenly I realize that there are people counting on me to at least do my best. I don’t want to have to explain to everyone why I didn’t win, why I couldn’t pull it off. And if I have to give that explanation, I need to be able to say that I tried everything.
Suddenly a boost of adrenaline rushes through me, or it could be the caffeine. Whatever it is, I’m going to go big or go home. Time to get my A-game on.
But first . . .
“Can I just . . . hold on a sec . . .” I say as I wave my hand frantically at Hal the cameraman to tell him to shut it down.
“Julia?” Patti gapes at me, her eyes wide.
“I’m sorry.” I cover my mouth and run out of the room.
I make it just in time to the nearest trashcan before the contents of everything I’ve had to eat or drink today, come up.
CHAPTER 10
Caffeine was a bad idea.
“You all right, darlin’?” Patti rubs my back as I drink the water that Jordan brought over to me after I spewed everything in front of a room full of practically strangers. Practically strangers that are taping a show that will go on national television.
Apparently, Hal didn’t shut it down as I had signaled for him to do. One of the producers motioned for him to follow me, and my puking has now been caught on camera. I was apparently not the first contestant to throw up on Cupcake Battles. I was, however, the first person to be caught on camera doing it. The others made it to the bathroom.
I. Am. So. Freaking. Lucky.
They gave everyone a small production break to let me get myself put back together, and for the makeup girl to do some touch-ups.
“You think you’re ready?” Jordan asks.
“Um, I guess,” I say, and then exhale deeply. I’m pretty sure that was a one-time puking. At least I’m not feeling like throwing up at the present moment. I have no idea what could happen later, though. The producers don’t seem angry in the slightest. In fact, they were delighted by the drama of it all. I’m obviously no expert, but I’m pretty sure that kind of stuff is ratings gold. Probably right up there with passing gas, which I pray is not next for me.
Jordan leads me and Patti back to the studio, where everyone is waiting for us, still in their same positions. It’s the strangest feeling. Since I’ve puked, gotten cleaned up, drank some water, and gotten back here, I could swear it’s been at least an hour. But in truth, we haven’t even been gone for more than ten minutes.
It’s going to be a long day.
I wish I could have called or even texted Jared, just for some moral support. It would have been nice to hear his voice, even if just for a second. I could tell him that I just threw up on a national television show, and he could tell me that it’s all going to be okay. Or he might just laugh. Knowing Jared, it would be both.
Everyone gets situated, Ginger gets one last-minute touch-up on her lipstick, and then one of the producers is counting down and we are off. Again.
“Welcome back to Cupcake Battles. Are you feeling better, Julia?” Franky says to me, and I can feel Hal the cameraman to the side of me.
“Uh, um, sure,” I stammer. Yes, perfect. Add stuttering onto the list of freaky things that Julia will do on camera. I’m doing well today. Right now, I’m wishing it were tomorrow.
“Let’s introduce the judges, shall we?” Franky says, angling toward the judges’ table situated to his right. “First, we have the lovely Ginger, owner of Frost in San Francisco. To her right, we have Josef Dehne, world-renowned pastry chef and owner of Dehne Sweets in New York City.”
Franky appears so confident on camera. Like he could do this in his sleep. He probably could.
“And now the judge we’ve all been waiting for, and the reason we are all here to compete today. Cupcake bakers, allow me to introduce your guest judge,” Franky pauses, I suppose for dramatic effect, “Kenneth Landers from NASA!”
Huh? Who the heck? I hope my face hasn’t given away my instant feelings of disappointment. I was hoping for someone a little more famous.
Kenneth, a tall, lanky guy who appears to be a little computer nerdy, comes out and waves to all of us. I glance over at the group and the Somethings look delighted. Of course they do.
“Welcome to Cupcake Battles, Kenneth,” Franky says as Kenneth takes his seat next to Josef. “So competitors, today you will be competing for that ten thousand dollar prize, and the winner will have their cupcakes featured at the 55th year celebration of NASA in Pasadena, California!”
I notice that the other competitors are all smiling brightly, so I follow suit. But I mean, come on. Is this only slightly disappointing to just me? I know I should be thrilled by the opportunity, but I was honestly hoping for something more like cupcakes to celebrate the birthday of Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s kid. I’m sure they would need at least a thousand of them.
“Are you ready, competitors?” Franky says, bringing me back to my current reality. “For our first round, you must use the secret ingredient to make one cupcake for the judges to taste and critique. And the secret ingredient is” — pause for dramatic effect — “astronaut food!”
Our attention is directed to a medium-sized table being wheeled into the room, with a display of different packets of freeze-dried astronaut food.
Freeze-dried what-the-crap? Seriously? This was definitely not something we practiced.
“Bakers, you have forty-five minutes to come up with something that will wow the judges, and you must use something from this table. The first round of Cupcake Battles, beeeeeeginnnnnns, now!”
Everyone takes off running toward the table with the secret ingredients. I’m still standing there, trying to think of what I’ll do with freeze-dried food. Patti takes my hand and pulls me toward the table.
We don’t have much time to check out the table of ingredients because we have to get started. But a couple of things catch my eye. Freeze-dried strawberries and bananas. My first thought is a banana split type of cupcake, but then I see the Neapolitan freeze-dried ice cream and the light bulb in my head goes on.
“What’s the plan?” Patti asks me, eying the packets of astronaut food I’m carrying.
“Okay, I’m thinking a Neapolitan ice-cream cupcake.”
Patti stares at me, blankly.
“Trust me, it will be good. At least, I think it will be good. I’ve never worked with freeze-dried food before.”
She signals silently that she agrees. If we’ve learned one thing in practice, when we went with my gut feeling on something, it would always pan out.
“Could you say the kind of cupcake you’re making again, with a little more enthusiasm?” Hal the cameraman asks.
“Oh, sure,” I say, shifting slightly to him. I forgot he was there, actually. Jordan is right behind him, bobbing his head, agreeing.
I say the line again and it seems to suffice because Hal gives me a signal with his hands to keep going.
We get to work. Having never worked with this type of food before, I’m not entirely sure about the consistency. All I’m looking for is the flavor. I have Patti take the blocks of Neapolitan ice cream and cut them up by flavor and then grind each flavor to fine powder.
I work on the batter, first making the chocolate, then the strawberry. I’ll layer those as the cupcake base and then the frosting will be a vanilla ice-cream buttercream. I have no idea how it will turn out, but I’m just going to pray it does.
Patti
and I work side by side, trying hard to make sure we are good with our time. Hal makes me re-say things a few times, but for the most part, I do okay. Or at least I get by.
I’m in my element now. Once we get baking, all my nerves with the cameras and the crew subside. Okay, not totally, but at least a little. The baking is what I know, so it comes naturally to me. Plus, now that I’ve barfed for a nationwide television show, what’s the worst that could happen?
Oh gosh, I hope I didn’t just jinx myself.
I should have brought Lia along to do some kind of un-jinxing witch thing whenever I think things like that. I’ll just concentrate on the light around me, because there is a lot. Seriously, how much light do they need in these studios?
The cupcakes are in the oven so I get to work on the icing. For the icing, I use the ground up vanilla and incorporate it into my buttercream.
“Holy crap. It tastes like ice cream!” I squeal to Patti after I do a taste test. It’s amazing. Like, I’d-sell-this-at-the-bakery amazing.
After trying a taste herself, Patti says something about how it made her want to smack her granny. She runs off to get the cupcakes from the ovens, so I don’t have time to ask her what that has to do with anything. Honestly, I’m not sure why I even bother.
“Fifteen minutes, bakers,” Franky announces from across the room.
Patti puts the cupcakes into the refrigerator to cool them down quickly, and I grab a piping bag to load the icing.
“Patti, we need something for the topping,” I say in a panic. Crap. I totally forgot about some sort of décor.
“Darlin’, I’m already sweatin’ like I stole something,” Patti says, pulling her shirt collar away from her neck, an attempt at trying to cool off.
“I know, me too,” I agree. It’s ridiculously hot in here, and we are only on round one. If this keeps up, I’ll be a big pile of sweat by the end of this. If I make it that far, that is.
“Patti, can you just go over to the table where all the freeze-dried stuff is and see if you can find anything?” I ask as I slop icing on the floor, missing the piping bag completely. I stifle the cuss word sitting on the tip of my tongue. I know they will bleep it out when the show airs, but my mother will still know I said it.
Patti runs over to try to find something that will work, while I finish filling up the bag and then try to clean up the icing on the floor as much as I can. The last thing I need to do is slip and slide around the kitchen, although I’m sure the producers would love it.
When Franky yells that there are five minutes left, we rush to get the cupcakes out and frost them. Topping them with crushed chocolate wafers that Patti found with the freeze-dried ice-cream sandwiches. They aren’t gorgeous, but I think it works. At least I hope it does. I only have one shot to make it to the next round, and it’s all wrapped up in this Neapolitan ice cream cupcake.
“Time!” Franky yells, and we all hold our hands up to signify that we are no longer working.
I have sweaty pits and once again, mentally curse the Somethings for taking the black shirt color. These hot-pink shirts are sure to show off my sweaty pit rings.
“Gather around bakers,” Franky calls from the judges’ table. “It’s time to find out who will stay, and who will be rocketing back home.”
And the puns have begun. Franky is known for his puns on the show. On one of the past episodes, the winner got to feature their cupcakes at The Comedy Place in Los Angeles. The puns were in abundance. I almost had to turn it off, it got so bad.
We all line up in front of the judges’ table. Well, sort of in front. Actually, we are back about ten feet so that the cameras can tape our expressions from the front, and cameras can tape the judges as well. So it’s the judges’ table, a crew of cameramen, and then us.
The judges are presented with cupcakes from the Tallies first. They have made a cookies and cream cupcake using the cookies and cream astronaut ice cream. A dark chocolate base for the cupcake, cookies and cream filling with a marshmallow cream top, and crushed Oreos for décor.
Not too exciting, in my opinion. And cookies and cream has been way overdone on this show.
The cameras are on the judges as they cut into the cupcake with a fork and try a bite. Well, everyone except Kenneth. He just pulls off the paper with his fingers and takes a big bite, not quite Cupcake Battles etiquette.
“So, let’s hear what you think,” Franky says, giving his attention to Ginger.
“First, let’s start with the positives.” Uh, oh. That’s never a good start from Ginger. If she has to start with the positives, it means there are a list of negatives. “I liked the presentation, and the cupcake itself was dense and had a rich chocolate flavor. However, I could barely taste the cookies and cream flavor in your filling, and the marshmallow cream frosting just did not do it for me.”
Ouch. We are off to a scary start. I start to sweat even more, worrying about how ours will go over.
Next up is Josef. “We’ve had this flavor on the show a lot. This cupcake has potential, but I agree with Ginger. It’s not enough of the secret ingredient. So it’s a no for me.”
Kenneth tells them basically the same thing.
The next cupcake on the judges table is the Sisters. “We’ve made a banana liquor cupcake using the freeze-dried bananas as the base flavor for the cupcake. We filled the cupcakes with a banana and rum cream filling, and topped the cupcake with buttercream frosting and chopped banana chips for a garnish,” the shorter of the sisters explains to the judges.
We watch as the judges taste-test the cupcakes, looking to see if anything registers on their faces. As usual, they give nothing away.
“Tell us what you think, Ginger,” Franky says, leaning up against the side of the judges’ table.
“You’re lucky that I love banana because if I didn’t, this cupcake would not have gone over as well as it did. Overall, I really liked this cupcake. The use of the freeze-dried bananas in the cupcake gave it a nice banana flavor, but not an overwhelming one.” Ginger nods her head, red curls bobbing all around.
“This cupcake makes me want to dance!” Josef says when it’s his turn to critique. He starts to do a little dance in his seat and I inwardly cringe. Josef saves that line only for cupcakes that really please him. It’s rare. I also cringe because he looks like an idiot when he does his chair dance.
It’s a winner for Kenneth as well. So the Sisters are almost guaranteed a spot in the next round. I’ve just got to be better than the Tallies and we are in.
Next up is the Somethings. I hold my breath, waiting for a “Cool Cakes!” but nothing happens. I peer over at them and detect a bit of something. Could it be nervousness? Well, I’ll be darned. They aren’t just overconfident buffoons after all.
“Cool Cakes Bakery, tell us what you’ve made today,” Franky says while staring at his nail beds, proving once again that none of this is very enthralling for him.
“Today we have made you a cinnamon apple coffee cake cupcake. The base of the cupcake is a cinnamon apple coffee cake with a custard filling. Topped with a cream cheese frosting and some streusel for garnish,” Mrs. Something says. She does a little fist pump after her description, which makes me internally gag.
The judges come back and it’s a hit. Everyone loved it. Dang it. Chances are high that they will make it to the next round.
My cupcake is up next, and I’m starting to freak out that it’s not enough. I tried it; it tastes amazing. Literally like an ice cream cupcake. But is it enough?
“Next up? Julia’s Bakery. Tell us what ya got, Julia,” says Franky.
“Um, so today,” I clear my throat, which is a fabulous start to my explanation, sure to win over the judges. Ugh. “So today we have made you a Neapolitan Cupcake that we call the . . . um . . . Buzz Aldrin.” I inwardly cringe when I say the name. Patti made me do it, she said it would be clever. I’m thinking she has no idea what clever is.
Surprisingly, it was. All of the judges give smiles of approval, and Fran
ky actually winks at me, which is weird.
I watch tentatively as the judges taste my creation.
“Ginger? Give us your thoughts,” says Franky.
“Well, let’s start with the positives.”
Oh, crap.
CHAPTER 11
It’s a sullen feeling in the greenroom as we all sit and wait for our fate in Cupcake Battles. Even Cool Cakes is keeping their cool, which must be difficult for them.
We’ve been sent back here to wait while the judges assess our creations and decide who moves on and who goes home. While we wait, we are intermittently taken back to do individual interviews with a producer about what we experienced and felt during round one.
I think my interview went well, except for the one time that I snort-laughed. I hate it when I do that. Patti said I was good, though.
I’m a ball of nerves. I’m torn between wanting to see this whole thing out and being relieved if it’s all over. I know I’ll be disappointed if I’m the first one out. I think I’ve had this internal thought process that if I just make it to round two, this will have been worth it. But the first round? Not sure how I will take that.
It’s iffy with my cupcake. Two to one—Josef and Kenneth liked it. Ginger, not so much. She’s apparently not a huge fan of strawberry and wished I would have done a strawberry base with a thicker chocolate center. Josef did not do a dance with my cupcake, either. He did say he liked it, though.
“They’re ready for us,” Jordan says from off in the corner. The cameras have been on us as we sit and wait. I’m not sure why they need so much footage of us sitting and waiting, but apparently they do. I hope I didn’t do one of those nose scratches that actually look like you’re picking it. Oh gosh, did I?
No time for me to dwell on that as we all get up and follow the interns to the studio to await our fate from the first round.
