Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

“Okay, Abby. Let’s get everything in place. Farro mafaldine, black truffle butter, and the mushrooms,” John

says, his hand passing over each individual ingredient—and lingering over the coveted black truffles—as

he speaks.

I nod. My body feels like it’s about to burst, I’m so excited. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” I say. “If

we can just nail this dish, the cook-off is ours.”

Karl chuckles from the sidelines. “No pressure, huh?”

John and I share a quick glance and a collective breath before diving in.

He works on preparing the handmade pasta, expertly feeding the farro mafaldine through the machine. I

focus on the mushrooms, slicing them with surgical precision before turning to the star of our dish: the

black truffles.

Enter title…

ve thin layers of the truffles, letting them fall into the

filling the room and making my stomach growl

is finally complete. John and I step back,

of farro mafaldine, black truffle butter,

scooping a generous portion onto three plates

pick up a fork, the atmosphere between

I know something is wrong. The flavors clash h

my palate to wince in response. The black truffle

dish with a

my eyes going wide as I ch ug a glass of water sitting beside me to

of soil. “Oh, this

widening as he

but the slight grimace

already dumping the disgusting

they could overpower a dish

try again,” John suggests, surprisingly

of black

we get to work. We start by making adjustments

the ratios of

worse than the first attempt.