“I wish Matt were here.”
As soon as the words leave Jordy’s mouth, the sous-chef snorts. “No help with a dessert course from Chef.” She points to me. “You can fix?”
“Yes.”
“Then fix.” With a nod, she leaves me to it.
It’s been a minute since I have worked in a kitchen like this. I breathe in and then out, inhaling the scent and feel. The air whips with energy set to the background music of clanging pots and accented shouts. It’s loud as hell, and I miss it.
There is no way I can pull off the culinary magic Matt needs without using the techniques Frank taught me. But this isPierre Stanton. His review will be well-read and well-shared around the internet. Any mention of me here tonight could ruin Matt, and Deny warned me to keep my head down, but if I don’t dosomething. . ..
This is ago big or go homemoment, and I can’t go home.
But there’s no denying the truth either: I will have to leave Bear Valley after this.
If Nico gets wind of me being here, and I am miles away, Nico won’t put his wrath on Bear Valley. Just me. Wherever I am.
I’ll give Pierre Stanton everything I’ve got—and leave. I square my heart with that reality as fast as I can.
The future I had so clear in my mind this morning falls shattered at my feet.
A few days of reprieve from Deny, and I felt like a free man. I laugh at myself. Why did I ever think there was a light at the end of the tunnel and not an oncoming train? Deny may not want my money anymore, but he wantssomething. When I am not here to deliver . . .I don’t have time to worry about that now.
I gather ingredients, a smile pulling at my lips. I may never get to step into another kitchen like this again, so this one is going to count. I have a lot to prove, anyhow.
I would have said yes, Matt. This is me letting you know.
“What’s on the dessert menu?” I ask Jordy. He keeps popping in and out from his job at the host table.
Jordy names off a few classics. “We can go off-menu. Say it’s a special or . . .”
I shake my head sharply. “No, we can’t. We have no time to print a new menu. He will know if we try. The only win here is if we pull off the menu as planned, not offer something new. To Stanton, lacking an item is worse than a bad one. Have the waiter suggest the creme brûlée.”
“You can do a creme brûlée?”
I point to the menu. “It’s the only thing on here I can save in time. Plus, it’s called the ‘Summit House crème brûlée,’ and his pastry chef hasn’t been great with descriptions. These are all vague. We can get away with a modern twist without looking like we went off-menu.”
I slow down to give the crème the attention it needs. Temperature matters in French cooking, and temperature takes time. I’m almost lost in the work, but the crème is chilling when Jordy confirms Stanton is here.
I’m still considering the plating when Jordy confirms Stanton selected crème brûlée.
“How did you know he would go for it? The waiter didn’t even have to suggest it.”
I eye the plates Matt has available. “Crème brûlée is the most popular dessert in the world. It originates in classic French cuisine but is adaptable to modern techniques. Given that Matt’s dishes are New American, it was an easy guess.”
I critically eye Matt’s selections again. “Stanton wants to see how Matt interpreted it for a snowy ski village. Not only that, but while the ingredients and techniques aren’t difficult, perfection is elusive. Classic Stanton. The magic is in the details, like a lot of French dishes. It needs to be served at the right depth for the richness, hot on top from the torched sugar and cold on the bottom. That’s going to be our challenge.”
I point to long plates, gesturing for Jordy to chill them. “I have some things at Maxine’s we can use, but plating needs to be simple. I don’t have time to remake anything here, though. Can you send someone?”
Jordy tells the kitchen staff what I need, and they hurry along. They’re obviously all wondering what I am doing here, but the first trick of any kitchen is to act like you belong, so I’ve ignored them. “So, what did you do?” he asks.
“Turkish coffee crème brûlée. Modern techniques to get the right temperature in the time we had.”
Jordy smiles, rocking back on his heels.
After that, it’s a mad dash. I go with my gut because I have no time to overthink my choices. Modern, with a classic nod, that’s Matt and his food. I have tasted it often enough.
Not only that, but IknowMatt, and his menu is an extension of himself. I can pour all my feelings for Matt into it, feelings I never even got to know and never will once I leave tonight.
