“On it,” he responds, jogging toward the pantry. He returns a few moments later,

and we swap places.

“Make sure to turn the duck and sear it evenly,” I call out as I begin to mix the

ingredients together to make the dough. “Use the red wine for moisture. Yeah,

just like that, perfect…”

When the buzzer blares, signaling the end of the round, I step back and take a

look at my dish.

It’s beautiful—each element perfectly executed, just like I rehearsed a million

times in my head. The plate practically glows under the stage lights, and I can’t

Enter title…

surge of pride course through

way around,

as they reach Daniel’s

taste her creation. My heart pounds in my chest,

echoing my mounting anxiety.

they come

and gentlemen,” I say, pushing my plate forward. “I

en croûte. I incorporated a hint of

pastry, which I believe adds a savory kick in

bite and nods approvingly,

The second judge, too, gives a

Logan—chef extraordinaire and owner of some

restaurants in the

as he takes a

out like hours as he chews slowly, deliberately, his

then, a small grimace.

down his fork. “And you

seasoning. The black pepper isn’t hiding your inadequate

the gut. The

haze, my throat collapsing in on itself. This

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