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…

letting them fall into the small pot of melted butter on the

filling the room and making my

an eternity, the dish is finally complete. John and I step back,

butter, and mushrooms sitting on the

I say, scooping a generous

a fork, the atmosphere

my tongue, I know something is wrong. The flavors clash h

my palate to wince in response. The black truffle butter, rather

overpowering the dish

instinctively, my eyes going wide as I ch ug a

of soil. “Oh, this is

face mirrors my sentiments, his eyes widening as he

but the slight grimace on his face

I mutter, already dumping the disgusting dish into the

didn’t realize they could overpower a

suggests, surprisingly lighthearted despite

supply of

making adjustments

the ratios of

than the first attempt. The three