Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

Duck. Pork. A flaky pastry dough.

It should be easy. I’ve practiced it a hundred times, tasted it a thousand. It’s one

of my favorite French dishes to make, and yet, as the stage descends into

organized chaos…

I’m frozen.

My eyes are wide like a deer in headlights. The deafening roar of the crowd, the

sound of voices and cooking utensils, the movement of the cameras and the

announcer’s voice booming over the microphone—all of it is too much.

Enter title…

Suddenly, I feel as though I’m being transported back in time, back to a time

when I was much younger…

of culinary school, the end

we were supposed to compete in a style not all that much

the sky-high stakes and the television

stainless steel tables, dressed in our

uniforms, as our professor—Chef

front of us, announcing our task for

be preparing beef

attention to detail. I expect each and every one of

the techniques we have been practicing all semester. You may

felt my hands go clammy. I was

ingredients in front of me,

basic as beef stroganoff?

before, but at that moment, it felt as

my mind clean.

tried, I couldn’t remember how

me felt foreign, and I felt utterly

be taking on the task just

with a skillet

every