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 of my first semester.

were supposed to compete in a style not all that much

and

stainless steel tables, dressed

chef’s uniforms, as our professor—Chef Andrews—paced

announcing our task

he announced, “you will be preparing

that demands attention to detail. I expect each and

have been practicing all semester. You may

launched into action, I felt my hands

my ingredients in front of me, but my

as basic as beef stroganoff? I

moment, it felt as though someone

my mind clean.

couldn’t remember how to get it

me felt

be taking on the task just fine, dicing,

a skillet

treated every class like a