“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…

them fall into the small pot of melted

the room and making my

what feels like an eternity, the dish is finally complete.

mafaldine, black truffle butter, and mushrooms sitting

here goes nothing,” I say, scooping a generous

pick up a fork, the atmosphere between us

know something is wrong. The flavors

The black truffle butter, rather than enhancing the dish as

dish with

wide as I

“Oh, this is bad. This is really,

widening as he

slight

serve this,” I mutter, already dumping the disgusting

didn’t realize they could

try again,” John suggests,

of

we get to work. We start by making adjustments to the recipe,

ratios

first attempt. The three of us

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255