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“Okay,” I said, this time with finality. “I gotta get my entry cooking.”
Annabelle squeezed my shoulder, then gave me a friendly push off toward the direction of the tent. “Go girl. Go kick their asses!”
I threw her a thumb’s up and tried to smile, but I was already feeling the nerves setting in.
I had never competed in something like this before. Sure, I’d done some small competitions in culinary school, but that was nothing compared to what was at stake here: earning this year’s title for Best Gumbo.
In a city known for its Cajun dishes, the competition was fierce.
And with Jacob back here, fresh from his prestigious training in France, I knew he was going to be a formidable opponent.
Chapter 6
Zoe
I entered the contestanttent and headed straight for my station, determined not to let Jacob’s appearance get to me. I had worked too hard on my recipe to let him ruin things now.
As soon as I got settled in, I started working on my roux, making sure to keep an eye on the heat so it didn’t burn.
I could hear Jacob chatting away with some of the other contestants, bragging about his time in Paris and how he was going to take home the trophy today.
Asshole.
I tried to ignore him and focus on my cooking, determined not to let him get into my head.
The time limit for preparation and cooking was three hours, which was good enough for even a complex gumbo. But today I aimed for simple: my grandma’s recipe, which involved chicken and sausage. A quick glance around at my competition showed that most chefs were going the seafood route, with shrimp and crawfish being the most common choices.
At least Grandma’s classic recipe would stand out.
I wished she could have been here today. She was alive and kicking, but she had to stay at an assisted living facility so nurses could monitor her various conditions. I’d have to tell her the results and show her some pictures after the fact, when I made my weekly visit with her.
I tried to stay positive and remind myself that this was a competition, and I was in it to win it. But the truth was, I didn’t really care about winning.
I just wanted to honor my grandmother’s name.
I spent the next hour and a half focusing on the details of my dish, making sure it was perfect, down to the last chopped okra. Now it was just a matter of letting it cook and add the last bit of ingredients at the end.
Satisfied to let the pot simmer unsupervised for a few minutes, I peeked out of the tent and into the crowd. The park was absolutely packed now, and the air was buzzing with excitement.
It was a bit overwhelming to think that my entry would be judged in front of so many people. But as long as nothing catastrophic happened, I’d at least get a lot of eyes on my brand when I presented my dishes to the judges.
Still, there was no sign of Lucian.
Maybe he got called out to a fire or something.
I pushed away the disappointment as I turned and walked back into the contestant tent, telling myself that if Lucian had just been a flash in the pan, then so be it. At least I’d had some fun.
Besides, I had a competition to focus on.
Soon enough, the bell rang just as I was adding the finishing touches to the five bowls, each specially prepared for the five judges. Contestants were to set up their bowls on a long line of tables on stage, waiting as the judges worked their way down the row. The judges kept their scores private until they tasted everything, and would reveal their final scores only after the last bowl had been graded.
I waited anxiously as the judges worked their way through the lineup of entries, their faces giving no indication of whether they liked something or not.
Finally, the judges reached my bowls, and I held my breath as they each took a spoonful. They nodded politely, and I tried to gauge from their expressions how my entry fared against the others.
All seemed at least neutral, until one judge, an older woman who looked like a stern school teacher, worked her mouth with a sneer, seeming to try to isolate something with her tongue.
My heart seized in horror when she reached a hand up to her lips and pulled from her mouth a sharp splintered chicken bone.
