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…

of the truffles, letting them fall into the small pot of melted butter

filling the room and making my

dish is finally complete. John and

mafaldine, black truffle butter, and mushrooms

goes nothing,” I say, scooping a generous portion onto three plates for taste

up a fork, the

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

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

instead overpowering the dish

instinctively, my eyes going wide as I ch ug a glass of water sitting

taste of soil. “Oh, this is bad.

face mirrors my sentiments, his eyes widening as he puts his fork down and

say anything, but the slight grimace

the

before. I didn’t realize they

let’s try again,” John suggests, surprisingly lighthearted

of black

start by making adjustments to the recipe, cutting down on

the ratios

is somehow even worse than the first attempt. The three of us