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…

culinary school, the end of my first semester. For our

in a style not all that much

stakes and

gathered around our stainless steel

our professor—Chef

us, announcing our task

will be preparing

demands attention to detail. I expect each

techniques we have been practicing all

felt my hands go clammy. I was

of me,

forget something as basic as beef stroganoff? I

times before, but at that moment, it

my mind clean.

I tried, I couldn’t remember

me felt foreign, and I felt

classmates seemed to be taking on the

if they were born with a skillet in their hand. Then there

guy who treated every class like a