Chapter 0163
Abby

“Okay, John, pass me the truffle oil,” I call out, my focus entirely on the pan in front of me.

“Got it,” John replies, handing me the small, dark bottle.

The kitchen is close to closing time, and John and I have been spending every free moment today

trying to get this recipe right. We don’t have the truffles, but I’ve settled on some substitutions, figuring

that it’ll be better to at least get practice on the dish rather than nothing at all.

I drizzle a few drops over the mafaldine, my eyes narrowing as I try to capture the elusive essence of

the dish in my mind. “It has to be perfect. The competition won’t allow any room for error.”

John smiles, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “You’re doing great, Abby. We’ve got this.”

But as I stir the pasta, incorporating the oil into the sauce, I know something isn’t right. It’s good, but it’s

not perfect. The aroma of the truffles fills the air, but it’s missing that rich, deep scent, the kind that

lingers on your tongue and in your nostrils.

Still, that doesn’t mean that it’s a total failure.

in the sauteed mushrooms, watching as they combine with the mafaldine. “Okay,

it a

and I spoon generous portions onto each,

the cook-off. We sit down at the makeshift tasting table, and

takes his

not with the brilliance

good,” he says cautiously.

mouthful, letting the flavors

down

etched into his features. “What’s missing? What do

perfect?”

head, frustration building. “It’s the truffles, John. These truffles

have. Without the right truffles, we can’t get the flavor

just right.”

try a different brand? Maybe it’s the supplier?” John

“I’ve tried three different suppliers already.

our hands

eyes meet mine, unwavering. “Then we’ll have to just

can be. And when the

they do is make me even more

dish is what is supposed to

in my hand. “I think I need to take a break,” I mutter, tossing

towel onto the counter.

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