CHAPTER TEN
TESTING THE CONTESTANTS
It was finally the D_day. The game show will commence in a week. But first, the selection. The contestants were subjected to a registration procedure. And the process started in the morning. Ava Davis got in time. She was the 16th person to be registered and told to wait with the others. They were yet to do the proper test. Some would be disqualified today. She had heard the judges telling her panellist. There were too many of them for what they needed. She would never understand why they do that anyway. Rather than disqualifying people, couldn't they just allow the certain number they needed and close it? Why make people think they have a chance and then dash their hope?
But some people would never get a chance if that were the case, she scolded herself. Doing this affords others who weren't opportune to be among the required number a chance. And that somehow takes out the ones in the "opportuned" number. There was the probability she might not have gotten the chance to showcase her talent, had the audition been restricted too. And she might end up displacing someone in the right position in the competition by being allowed to participate. It just wasn't fair, whichever way one chooses to think about it. Still, she was glad to be here.
"If that will be all for the day, then I'll be off." Said the judge to the panellist for the cooking show. The contestants had been emailed two days ago to make an appearance today. The chefs would be asked oral questions to see if they qualified. The number of applicants, as usual, were more than they needed. So, today was the day to cut off the chaffs. "Was everyone represented?" she asked the assistant. Some chefs never even made it to the first round. Something stops them from coming to the show. Which was good, considering the rigorous stress they go through on selecting the best.
"We have them all signed here," the assistant reported, checking if the number of online sign-ups tallied with those present. "Everyone showed up."
"Good then," the judge said, "Let's take a break before we begin the drill." staff had been working all morning to get the participants registered. She started to pack her things when suddenly, someone rushed in. Everyone looked up to see a young, petite lady, rushing in.
"I'm so sorry, please. I got stuck in traffic."
The crew stopped to look at the newcomer. But it was the judge who queried the assistant. "I thought you said everyone is accounted for." She accused the lady.
The assistant quickly went through the numbers again. confused, she nodded vigorously, "Everyone is here." She confirmed.
"Then what is she doing here?" the angry judge asked, "Apparently, not everyone is accounted for," she hissed. "Get her registered and table it later," turning to the others, she called, "Let's go for a break."
As they stepped out, the assistant turned to the newcomer. "You just cost me lunch," she hissed, "If you don't get it now, I swear I'll make sure you don't get selected."
The lady with a bright smile brought out some home-baked snacks. Smiling, she handed it over, "I'm a chef after all."
"Better," the assistant took it, then sat down. "What's the name?"
"Marie Jones." Replied the newcomer, sitting down with the assistant. The two chatted back and forth until the judges and her crew walked back in. The assistant immediately changed her countenance. Standing, she went to inform her boss that she had fixed the error.
"Fine," said the judge. "And lunch?"
"I'll be fine," she smiled, walking back to her seat. She winked at Marie, and tossed her head in the direction of the contestants. "Head over there."
Marie walked into the other room confidently. She looked at everyone present and sighed. She really needed the money. And this crowd, they looked defiant. Would this be easy? Sighing, she strolled towards the lady at the extreme edge. She was busy muttering to herself. "Hmmn," she muttered too, knowing the lady was trying to get prepared. Perhaps she has tips? Joining the show had been a last-minute thing.
The assistant never made any mistake. She was the one who didn't submit her online application. And that was because,until this morning, she didn't know about the show. She just found out off chance at a diner and decided to put in. While the assistant had been snacking on her pie, she had sorted that out. Forwarding her application on her phone before she could suspect. "It was a last-minute decision," she lied to the lady. "I submitted last night."
"That would explain why you're top of the list on the company's mail." The assistant had replied without checking the time."
"Although, I think it was delivered late," Marie added, just in case the lady eventually checked the time. Smiling. She told herself she didn't do anything wrong. She had been on time for the competition after all.
"Hey," Marie said to the lady, watching her intently. She loved how she was curvy and good looking. A good looking woman and a chef. What wouldn't men give for that, she mused. "I'm Marie. Marie Jones."
"Hello," Ava replied, "Ava Davis. You're late."
"Better late than never right," Marie giggled. "Can I?" she asked, eyeing the seat beside the lady.
"Sure," Ava adjusted. "Need anything else?"
"No," she replied, "Did I miss anything though?" she asked, then confessed, "I literally know nothing about the show," she leaned closer so the others wouldn't hear, "A friend just mentioned it now. So, I waltz in here."
"Are you kidding?" Ava asked, looking at the lady.
"Had to trick the assistant into believing I submitted my application last night," she chuckled, "In truth, I did it while she snacked on my pie. She forgot to check the time."
"Crazy," Ava laughed hard, "The pie must have been good."
"Oh, it was," Marie winked, "I'm a chef, darling."
"Obviously," she smiled, nodding approvingly of this one. Since arriving here, Ava had been wary of the high and haughty attitude of the people here. Everyone felt and acted like the best. She found that annoying. They were all professionals here to win a prize. And until the winner emerged, she saw no reason why anyone should feel haughty towards a fellow contestant.
"Anyway, to answer your question earlier, you missed nothing much," she told the newcomer. "The show is a cooking game show. There would be stages of tests to do that. And today is one of it," she explained, "I believe they need just twenty contestants to start the show. And there are way more than that number here," she looked around for emphasis.
I saw the number on the lady's file. "We are thirty-something," she said looking around too. "So, some folks are going home today?"
"It appears so."
"Great, I better put on my mojo."
"Mojo?"
The lady laughed, "Don't mind me, it's a phrase from my favourite star in Lucifer."
"I know that movie. Chloe Decker," Ava said, mimicking the cast, Lucifer, she added, "Detective." with a southern drawl.
The two started laughing, attracting the curious eyes of the others. Marie waved at them all. "Hello."
A few hissed while some looked amused. Nobody replied to the greeting.
With that going on in the room, the judges were getting set to begin the session. "The drill will begin shortly," she called her assistant, "Tell them to get ready, in a file. They're thirty right?"
"Thirty-one now, with the new addition."
"Great!" she sighed, "And we need just twenty. Call them out."
The lady disappeared in the next door. There in the next room, she found the contestants. "You can file out now. The competition is starting." She saw Marie at the extreme end and smiled. The lady had already made a friend for herself. She liked that one. Walking out, she went to her seat as the contestants began to file out.
The judge looked at them all. Sighting the newcomer, she called her out. "Let's begin this with you, shall we?"
"Wish me luck," Marie whispered in Ava's ear.
Holding her hand briefly, Ava smiled at her, "Good luck."
"Good luck too."
The others were told to seat while Marie took the stand. "There are three questions each contestant must answer. And it's all related to food and your cooking skill. Plus, how well you know your meals," said the judge. "Shall we begin?" she asked Marie.
"Well," replied Marie. "Shall we?"
The other contestants smirked at her playful manner. "It's a freaking competition." Said a male chef. A few chuckled. Only Ava smiled and muttered, crazy.
The panellist in charge, adjusted himself, so did the female. "We're set." They announced. The male panellist read out the rules. "You answer three questions right, you're in. Your chances of winning are assured if you don't miss any questions. If you do," he looked at the others, "Well, you're likely to be in a tight corner."
"Okay," Marie said, blowing out air.
"And that goes for everyone," he said to the others. They nodded and he faced the contestant on the stand. "So, Marie…."
"Wait," the judge interrupted.
"Saved by the bell," Marie muttered.
"Let Kim arrange the others. We should do it by the numbers. Or what do you think?" she asked her crew.
"I like it random." The female panellist suggested.
"Okay then," agreed the judge. "Random it is."
"So, Marie," the panellist resumed, "If I'm making a fruit parfait," he paused. Marie nodded, waiting for the question. "What vital ingredient do I need?"
"The fruit," Marie replied confidently. "Mango fruit parfait? You need mango. For cake parfait, you need cake. It's like you cannot do cake without flour. The crucial ingredient is fruit for fruit parfait."
"Well, thank you for enlightening us there." The panellistnodded. "You got that right."
"Question two," the female panellist said, looking in her notebook. "Which cutlery do you need for a fish stew."
"That's tricky," Marie muttered. If it's hard fish, that would be a knife. But soft fishes require a fork, maybe even a spoon. But definitely fork. What do I do?
"You can ask any question to help you," the panellist smiled. "As long as you don't ask me for the answer…."
Marie smiled then, "What kind of fish?"
"Tilapia." The panellist said.
Tricky still, she mused. The panellist had been smart enough not to categorize the fish as hard or soft. But most fishes weren't hard. Not like meat. So knife might be the wrong answer. And then, Tilapia is an exceptionally bony fish. A fork will do. "Fork," she said, hoping she didn't get it wrong.
"Not the complete answer."
Everyone looked around, confused. The contestants started murmuring among themselves.
"Remember, it's a competition. You help her with the answer at your own peril." announced the judge.
That silenced everyone. But the look of confusion stayed on their faces. Marie wondered what the panellist meant by "not the complete answer". "What do you mean incomplete answer?" she asked.
"Exactly that," the panellist smiled. "Your answer isn't complete," he nodded towards the timekeeper. "And we can start counting now. 1…"
Marie knew then that asking them a question was just a ploy. The panellist didn't provide a correct clue for the contestants. It's just you on this stand, she smiled, hoping she could tell the others that. But then, it was a game show. "4," the woman said, and Marie was forced to think. "Fork," she repeated, saying the word in her mind. What could be missing? Fish fork! "Oh," she gasped as she remembered there is indeed a fish fork. "Fish fork," she proudly announced, "And that's what the fish fork is for." She said, almost breathless. " For eating fish."
"Correct." Said the judge enthusiastically before the panellistcould give her approval. Everyone turned to her with a bemused expression. Apparently, the woman was having a good time.
"And the third," It was the male panellist now. "Would you mix two core ingredients in making parfait?"
"Sure," Marie said with a confident grin. The others looked at her like she was insane. Though she was right, she exuded a bothersome energy.
"Care to explain please?"
"There's fruit and yoghurt parfait. With fruit and yoghurt been the core ingredient."
The panellist was silent for a few minutes, making everyone fidget. Especially the contestant. Only she wasn't even fidgeting. She was beaming. "And she got it."
Ava gave her thumbs up as the lady danced to the other room. She had scaled through. And so the drilling continued. A few couldn't answer the questions. A particular chef didn't get any of her three questions right. She ran out herself. "Well, that leaves thirty." Announced the judge with a shrug. The lady had been eliminated. Another had gotten his two questions right. But on the third question, he looked blankly at everyone. Ava didn't even know the answer herself.
The panellist had helped in explaining the question and then answered. Since he wasn't the only one who didn't get an answer right, he still had a chance. Ava watched on until it was her turn to take the stand. She walked to the stand, praying she was well prepared for this.
"What are the cooking skills you know?"
"Steam. Blanch. Sear. Braise. Poach. Roast. Grill...."
"Good," the panellist interrupted her. "Have you heard of French cooking?"
"Yes." Ava nodded. Everyone has, she believes.
"That's your second question," the male panellist said, "What is French cooking?"
"French cooking is a cooking method developed in France. It was inspired by other traditional methods of cooking and aimed at being better," she explained. "The uniqueness of the French cooking lies in the flavours used."
When she stopped, he nodded for her to go on. Everyone turned to her, listening aptly. She had a unique way of explaining that makes anyone want to listen. Even the judge looked on expectantly.
"The French in making their meals cook under high heat sometimes," Ava went on, "Then oil," she paused, took a slow breath and continued. "They make meals appear easy to make than it really is by using simpler methods of cooking," she stopped there. Then remembering something quickly raised her hand, "One more thing, they have an A+ in presentation."
"Wow," the judge breathe out. "Are you a chef?"
Everyone laughed. The judge corrected herself then, "Of course, you're a chef," she said, then trying to rephrase the question, asked, "You work with chefs who assist in the kitchen and you have to explain to?'
Ava nodded. " Yes, I do." She beamed proudly.
"Where's that?"
"CHOPPERs."
"Here in Seattle?" When the lady nodded, she smiled, "That's good. I look forward to seeing you work here."
"Thank you," Ava said, with a deep smile sitting on her face all through as she waited for the last question.