“Busy, as usual. I’m trying to get everything set up before I go off on maternity leave.” Sydney patted her belly. “It seems like we’ve been planning for this forever, but now that it’s close, there’s so much I need to get done.”
“Congratulations. When are you due?”
“October seventh. But who knows with babies? I’m planning on a natural childbirth.” She went on about all the things she was expecting when the baby came. In too much detail.
When the head judge called for quiet, Angie gratefully slipped back over to her team, promising to finish the conversation later.
She hoped she’d be too busy to keep that promise.
“I’m so glad to greet you all this beautiful summer morning.” Ann Cole, the mayor of Garden City, where the fairgrounds were located, spoke clearly into the microphone. Even though most of the contestants were in tanks and jeans, Ms. Cole was dressed in a bright coral linen suit that made her look more like she was going to tea in New York than judging a cooking contest in Southwestern Idaho. All five of the judges were in suits, and Angie wondered how many were like Ms. Cole, politicians on the next voting ballot.
But then again, she’d always been cynical. At least that’s what Felicia said. Angie realized that the woman was done welcoming them to the small city being swallowed up by metropolitan Boise and was now talking about the rules.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll meet here again to announce tomorrow’s challenge, along with the nine teams that will continue on in the competition. The winner will also get an advantage, which we’ll announce tonight after judging at six p.m.”
Angie glanced over to Felicia and saw the man from the beer garden last night standing by one of the restaurant booths. He must be another chef. She glanced up at the signage. Bien Viveres. He saw her look and smirked at her. So, he wanted to play, did he? Angie kept herself from rolling her eyes and turned back to Ms. Cole, who seemed to be winding down. The woman glanced at the oversized digital clock. “You have four hours to shop, cook, and be ready to serve a hundred invited guests at twelve thirty. Your challenge? Make us the best corn dog we’ve ever had.”
Groans came from several groups, but Hope bounced up and grabbed Angie’s arm. “You guessed it.”
Anger flashed over the Bien Viveres chef’s face, but just as soon as Angie saw his expression, it was gone. She leaned in to Felicia and nodded to the guy, who was now circled together with his team, barking orders. “We’re going to have to watch that one.”
“Miquel? Why? He seemed nice when he came to eat at the County Seat last week.” Felicia frowned as she studied the group.
“He came to eat at the restaurant?” Had he studied the competition? Or was this just a coincidence? Either way, she didn’t have time to deal with anything but the task at hand. “Okay, Felicia? Take off. Hope and Matt? Let’s get planning.”
“Good luck, guys.” Felicia waved as the three disappeared into the booth.
“I take it we’re making our own sausage for the corn dog?” Matt stood at the end of the booth, glancing around at the options. “Is there a meat grinder?”
“Over there in the cabinet. They stocked us for most anything.” Angie waved them toward the refrigerator storage bin. “I had Felicia get the ingredients for the sausage that Estebe made for family meal last month. You helped him with that, right, Matt?”
“I did.” He took out a large bin and started grabbing meat. “I’ll start cutting up the meat if you all want to get the veggies started.”
And just like at the restaurant, things started falling together. Angie had chosen correctly. Her two least-experienced cooks had been trained well by Estebe. And they knew how to move quickly.
They finished up a trial batch of the sausage in just under an hour. Angie stuck one in the freezer and then they grilled several. She’d already made up a batch of the cornmeal batter and Hope was busy working on a sauce for dipping, even though Angie was considering using a locally made ground mustard. Maybe they should have both?
They made up three samples. One grilled, then dipped. One frozen, then dipped. And one just chilled from the fridge. First they sampled a grilled sausage without the batter.
“Perfect mix. Spicy, but not crazy hot.” Angie’s praise had Matt blushing.
He nodded. “Make sure you mention that to Estebe. I changed the mixture on the peppers. His were a little too aggressive, if I remember the comments from the team at family meal.”
“I’m sure he’ll be open to changes.” Hope laughed. “Well, maybe in an alternate universe.”
“Either way, it’s a good change up, and yes, when we add it to the menu, we’ll use your tweak.” Angie smiled as Matt did a quick fist pump.
“Can I call him now?” He glanced at the clock. “I’m sure he’s going to want to know this sooner than later.”
“No. We’re on a mission. We don’t have to win, but we do have to stay alive in the competition.” Angie studied the actual corn dogs that they’d made. “I like the color of the batter. But make sure you judge the batter too. We need a touch of sweetness to complement the sausage.”
They sampled the three, and all agreed the batter worked. Then it was the issue of the technique. Finally, they made their choice, then set up a station to get all the sausage done first. Angie made the batter mix, keeping the wet ingredients separate and putting finishing the mix on her timeline. It was like a dance. Do one thing too soon, and the rest wouldn’t get done. A big part of the challenge was time management. If no one could taste your food because you missed the deadline, you were out.
She hung the schedule on a wall where she could see it. Then she set a timer for the next step. Finally, she went to join Matt and Hope in making sausages.
Matt had brought his boom box and a mix of country, pop, and classic rock music flowed through the trailer as they worked. An hour into the schedule, a knock sounded at the door. Angie washed her hands, then grabbed a towel before answering. A woman with a microphone and a clipboard stood outside, with a man with a video camera. Time for the dog and pony show. Now she really wished she’d pulled Felicia in on the first day of the competition. She took a deep breath and went to slay the dragons.
“Good morning, you must be Angie Taylor from the County Seat.” The woman who was in her late fifties beamed up at her. “I’m Dee Samson from the local NBC affiliate. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions?”
Angie dried her hands, then stepped out of the kitchen. “Just a few. And it’s Angie Turner, not Taylor.”
The woman scribbled on a notebook. “Great catch. Sometimes I can’t read my producers’ handwriting. So, I won’t keep you long. Do you mind standing over here by the front so the viewers can see your trailer sign?”