Twice Baked

by Andrew Grey

  “How did you do the chicken? It’s so moist,” Kelly asked, and Meyer went into his process.

  The conversation centered around food—the meal specifically, but food in general—which wasn’t a surprise at all. The food was amazing, and I tried not to overeat, but it was impossible.

  “How long have you been doing the blog?” Rachel asked during a lull in the conversation.

  “I started it three years ago.” I didn’t add the part about how, after Meyer left, I needed a way to channel my loss and exorcise what I thought was part of the reason he left me. “I’ve always been fussy, I know that, even as a kid, but my mom always said that us kids should try everything. The family used to make fun of me because everyone else ate just about everything. I was the ‘picky’ one.”

  “So they made you ashamed of it?” Kelly asked.

  “Yeah. And I ate a lot of food that I could barely stand just because it was what was served.” I leaned forward. “Let me ask you, is there something you don’t like?”

  “Yeah,” Kelly admitted. “I’m originally from Maryland, but I don’t like blue crabs. They taste muddy and weird. My dad didn’t like them either, so Mom never bought them.”

  “Imagine if blue crabs were served as Tuesday night’s dinner each and every week. That was how things were at home. Mom was determined that I would learn to like things, so she made them again and again. To this day, the smell of liver makes me leave the house. I cannot and will not eat it. No matter what, it will not go down. Things like mushrooms I used to eat by cutting them into small pieces and swallowing them whole so I didn’t taste them. It was something that they were determined to break in me. They didn’t. I just became ashamed of it and avoided foods I didn’t like as soon as I had some freedom.” I finished the beef and noticed that every eye at the table was centered on me. “Once I could drive, I would ask Mom for the car after dinner and go to the drive-through to get something to eat. I had food stashed under the bed in my room. Dry cereal, granola bars—stuff like that. I learned to cope, and I did that for a long time.” I couldn’t believe I was actually “coming out” like this. It was strange and yet freeing at the same time.

  “Were there things you did learn to like?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah. I love coleslaw, though I never ate it as a kid. Most every vegetable when it’s raw and in a good salad. As an example, spinach cooked is mushy and awful, but raw in a salad, it’s amazing and one of nature’s gifts. I love texture, and mouthfeel goes a long way. In my opinion, food should have body. Yet there are soft, smooth dishes that I adore. Risotto, when it’s done right, is heavenly, but Meyer and I disagree on how it should be cooked. He likes it silky-smooth—I like it firmer.” I met Meyer’s scowl as he went into the proper consistency for risotto, and I smiled indulgently, rolling my eyes.

  “That is the proper way,” Rachel agreed.

  “See, I don’t agree. The proper way to make anything is the way the eater likes it,” I said. “Food, a meal, it’s a communication, a connection between the chef and the eater. At least that’s how I look at it. That breaks down if one person doesn’t enjoy it.” I sat back, finished with the incredible meal. I knew there was dessert, but it was bananas. Meyer had decided to torture me at the end. “Do you all remember the four basic needs? Air, water, food, and elimination. For the longest time, I ate to live.”

  Everyone around the table blinked at me in astonishment.

  “I don’t get it,” Kelly finally said.

  “That same gorgeously done beef that Meyer made could have been slapped on a grill, cooked, cut into pieces, and consumed, and it would have given us the same caloric intake and energy as what Meyer served. It wouldn’t be anywhere near as good, but it would have fueled our bodies. I ate like that.” I stopped myself before I actually said out loud that Meyer had completely changed that for me. No one else here needed to know that.

  “I don’t think I could live that way,” Kelly commented.

  “I did in college,” Rachel said. “Basic food that took away the hunger and let us stay up to study. There was no finesse, no real taste, just… food. I wouldn’t want to go back to living like that.”

  “I doubt any of us would.” I met Ethan’s gaze. “That’s part of why this show is important and does so well. It’s entertaining, yes, but it also shows people that they can have more and do more than just make food to get them through.” I raised my glass, and the others did as well. “To food as amazing as we’ve already had, and much more to come.”

  Randall and Marie cleared away the dishes, with the help of the bartender, and then dessert was served. Meyer did the honors, flaming the dessert at the table, making quite a show. Then Randall dished it up while Meyer pulled out another, smaller pan.

  “We all know that Luke’s hatred of bananas is legendary. So….” He flamed the pan, and the scent of cherries filled the restaurant. “I happen to know that he loves lots of other fruits, so for you, my version of cherries jubilee.” He got it ready, topping a dish with a small amount of cake and homemade ice cream with the cherries. It was a feast for the eyes as well as the nose, and the taste burst on the tongue.

  A digestif was served with dessert, and then shortly afterward, the party began to break up when Ethan said he had to go. Rachel said good night as well, and she left with the two contestants.

  “That was amazing. And thank you for not feeding me bananas.”

  “You were right in what you said. A meal is a communication, and feeding someone something you know they aren’t going to enjoy is a breakdown in communications.” Meyer glanced around the empty room. “You and I sure had plenty of them.” He pulled out a chair and sat back down. “I think they were all pleased.”

  “How could they be anything else? It was spectacular. That chicken was sublime, and the beef was perfection.” I rested my hand on the table, and Meyer placed his on top. It was surprising and nice.

  “Thanks, Luke. That means a lot.”

  Motion in the back room had Meyer pull his hand away and stand. I did the same, figuring it was time for me to go so they could clean up and get out of here themselves.

  “Do you need help?”

  “No. I have someone coming in first thing to take care of the dishes and reset the tables. You have a good night, and I’ll see you for the first taping.” The relaxed Meyer was gone in an instant, and I shook my head, messaging Felix that I was ready to be picked up.

  “THIS WILL be our season debut episode,” Ethan told the team in the first episode meeting. “We want it to be interesting and to set the tone for the rest of the season. Meyer, I need you to set a high standard for the food. Rachel, be as amazing as ever, and Luke, just have fun with it. Our guest judge is Chef Hank West. He’s flying in from Las Vegas and is currently caught in traffic, but he will be here soon. The contestants are not to know that he is here until we announce it in the challenge. The packet in front of you describes the challenges that we will be using for this episode, and the details. It also contains the twist that we will be introducing. Treat that information as confidential. Do not talk about it with anyone.”

  I nodded along with the others as I reviewed the details. Rachel and I would be judging the first round with Chef Hank. It looked like I was going to be dropped into the fire, as it were.

  “Are you up for what we have planned, Luke?” Ethan asked, and I continued down the page.

  “Bananas,” I said under my breath. “Really? You’re jumping right in.” I suppose it was best to get it over with. They had said they were going to use some of the things I hated.

  “Yes, but if you look, you’ll see it’s an entrée challenge. So the dish is to be savory and feature bananas,” Meyer explained. “You might like them that way.” He was trying not to laugh, the bastard.

  “Can you do it?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes,” I answered firmly. “I can do anything.” I forced a smile and sat back, refusing to let them see how completely unthrilled I was.

  �
�That’s the spirit. And be as honest as you can.” Ethan was clearly hoping for some sort of uncomfortable gold out of this. “Are there any other questions? If not, we will begin shooting tomorrow morning. Meyer, when Hank arrives, you and I will walk him through what he needs to do. If there’s nothing else, we all have work to do.” He was up and on his way out of the room before anyone could move, with the camera people and other technicians right behind him.

  “Wow, what got into him?” I asked Rachel, hoping she might know.

  “The network had an unexpected cancellation that left a hole in the schedule, and they want to air the shows two weeks earlier. They’re starting the promo in a week, but we have nothing for them to use to promo.”

  I sighed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire for all of them. “Did they move up the shooting schedule?” That would explain the pressure in Ethan’s voice and demeanor.

  She nodded. “The first episode will be shot on the current schedule, but the second and third will follow right behind without a break. Normally we shoot, digest, learn, plan, and then shoot the next, but we’re going to have to plan the next episodes while we shoot the current one. It happens.” She shrugged and then checked her phone. “I better get things ready, and I think you should too.”

  I waited for Meyer and relayed what I had just been told. It seemed he already knew and was taking it in stride.

  “Don’t worry. You’re going to be great at this.”

  “I hope so.” The added pressure was increasing the doubt in the back of my mind. I needed to keep it in check. I could be good at this if I didn’t sabotage myself.

  “You will. I know it.”

  The warmth in Meyer’s eyes told me that he meant it. Damn, I’d thought I was over the man, but just that look, full of care and concern, was enough to make my heart stir. And what was worse, I thought I saw my feelings reflected back at me.

  “If you feel you need some help, let me know and I’ll be glad to work with you.”

  “Thanks. We’ll have to see how this first episode goes.” I inhaled deeply to try to calm my nerves. “I was going to head over to wardrobe to make sure everything is planned out.” I had to do something, otherwise I’d just worry.

  “Do that and call me tonight if you want to talk anything through.” Meyer excused himself when Justin signaled him, and I headed out to try to make sure I was as prepared as I could be.

  Chapter 5

  I’D FED Rosco and was caught up on other tasks, so I sat at my makeshift desk trying to figure out what I wanted to do. Sitting inside all evening didn’t seem appealing, and there was nothing on television that I wanted to watch. “What do we want to do?” I asked the cat, bored out of my mind.

  A soft knock on the door saved me from answering my own question at the moment. “Meyer,” I said with a smile when I found him standing outside. He seemed to turn up when I least expected it.

  “Come on,” Meyer said. “Go get a jacket and let’s go.”

  I shook my head, closing the door after he stepped inside. “Huh.”

  “You’re sitting around in here fidgeting and vacillating. There’s an entire city out there that’s filled with amazing things to do and see.” He shrugged. “You lived in Philadelphia all your life and never saw the inside of Independence Hall.” Meyer sighed.

  I turned and got a light jacket, then returned to where Meyer waited, grateful to have something to do. “You don’t need to do this. I’ll be fine. I figured out how to do things on my own.”

  Meyer didn’t roll his eyes or say anything. He simply stared at me, hard, and I felt myself withering a little under the intensity of that gaze. No wonder he was a television star. He smoldered, and with a single look, he could convey so much intensity.

  “What?” I finally asked.

  “You sit home behind that computer and bury yourself in it.” His gaze didn’t move, and I quivered slightly as he licked his lower lip. “Come on. I’m taking you out.” He stood near the door and again stared, challenging me to argue. I sighed softly because this was a bad idea. “I’ve known you for a long time. You and I can be friends and do things together.”

  “I see.” I followed him out and locked the door. “You and I are going to be friends. Is that it?”

  Again with the damn smile that went all the way to his eyes. “Why not?” Meyer said it so casually, I wanted to slap him and tell him exactly why this was a bad idea.

  Because you shattered my heart and made me feel bad about myself when we were together. Because… because…. His eyes were so deep and gorgeous, and my arguments slipped from my mind.

  I took a step back. “Because I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  My answer didn’t seem to faze him. “Come on. Let’s go have some fun. And I know just the place.” He turned and walked down the hall to the elevator. I followed him, against my better judgment, because… what the hell?

  We got in, rode down to the ground floor, and went out through the lobby to Meyer’s BMW. I got in, and he drove to the freeway. Soon we were whizzing through the city, lights and cars passing at high speed until Meyer veered off and we were in a quieter, darker area.

  “There are woods in LA?” I asked as we passed slowly down a tree-lined road.

  “This is Griffith Park, and it’s right in the middle of the city.”

  We passed through a tunnel, then turned left, climbing upward, and went in circles until we reached a bluff that burst with light and activity.

  “What is this?”

  “Griffith Observatory. I thought the geek in you would love it. The building has been expanded, but the main portion is Depression era, done under the Works Progress Administration. There are telescopes, a planetarium, and space and science displays.” He parked, and we walked across the great lawn in front of the building. It was stunning, with people playing on the grass, and yet it was largely quiet.

  I figured we’d go inside, but Meyer led me toward the side, and we climbed the stairs to the roof and then walked along to the back and the edge of the escarpment. The entire city with its grid of lights was laid out as far as the eye could see. It danced and twinkled in the night air.

  “I like to come up here when I need a chance to get away and take a breather. Down there is everything you could possibly imagine: wealth, money, power, the industry that entertains half the world. The Pacific is in that direction.” Then he pointed behind me, and I turned. “The Hollywood sign, which was originally built for a housing development.”

  “Wow.” A breeze came up, and I pulled my jacket around me. Not that I was cold, but maybe a little exposed or overwhelmed. How did anyone learn anything in a city this size? It was fascinating and frightening at the same time. Well, at least I wasn’t staying here all that long.

  “I love that view. It’s like all the potential and promise of everything you could ever want laid out right in front of you. All that’s required is the desire and drive to go get it.” Meyer leaned on the railing as he looked.

  “It’s just lights and a lot of people.” Up here was quiet; down there was a battle with chaos fighting for order. And most of the time, it seemed to me that chaos was winning. “Can we go inside?”

  Meyer checked the time. “Yes. I got us tickets for the show. It starts in fifteen minutes, so you and I should head inside to get a good seat. Afterward, you can look around.”

  I retraced our steps down and then entered the atrium, painted in that distinctive, blockily beautiful WPA-style. We passed around a huge pendulum, and I peered down one story to where it nearly reached the floor and then up to the decorated dome where it originated.

  “Come on. We should take our seats.” He led the way to the back and into the planetarium theater, directing us to seats just before the doors closed and night descended around us.

  The seats reclined, and stars came out on the dome. The narration began, and we took an awe-inspiring trip through the night sky. Constellations, galaxies, planets—all of them passed by, paying
us a visit as we took an amazing journey. In the darkness, Meyer sat next to me, and as we passed Saturn with its rings, he took my hand. Together he and I hurtled through space. Stars exploded and created new elements and dust clouds that condensed into new planets right before our eyes. It was amazing, and I squeezed Meyer’s hand as we took the journey together, the way I had once thought that I would travel through life with him. That he and I would build our own world and make our own way. It had been a nice fantasy then, and I let it wash over me now.

  Then we returned to LA and the sunrise, the rebirth of our own star that we witnessed each morning. Meyer’s hand slipped out of mine as the lights came up. The trip through the universe was over, and it was time to return to the real world.

  “Thank you for coming, and we hope you enjoyed your tour of the universe.”

  Everyone clapped and then stood to head for the exits. I waited for my turn and filed out with Meyer. The trip had been fun. “Thanks.” I kept wondering what Meyer wanted from me… or thought he wanted.

  We toured the rest of the exhibits, watched a demonstration of the Tesla coil and its artificial lightning, enjoyed the remaining exhibits, and then headed out. Meyer and I wandered the grounds and then went back to the car.

  “Where to next?”

  Meyer smiled. “How about something to eat? BCD Tofu.” He unlocked the car door and, once inside, we were off again. The Korean diner was packed, but Meyer got a table and ordered for me, knowing what I liked. The dumplings were heavenly, the sweet spicy ribs a treat, and we laughed together. Maybe that was the best part.

  “So there I was, completely lost. I’d been here just a week and was supposed to be having dinner with some backers at this new, hip, fancy restaurant downtown, but the GPS in the car was all messed up. It kept sending me all over the place, changing directions. It was a mess. Somehow I ended up here, and I phoned to tell them where I was and that I was lost.”

  “Oh God.”