"Apparently now."
"Of course." She sets down her fork with deliberate care. "What's the backup?"
I think through options. We have the ingredients for the other courses. Could pull something together. But we've been drilling the shrimp app for days and swapping it means the temps lose their muscle memory.
"I'll call her," I say.
The coordinator picks up on the second ring.
"Hi, this is Rogan Thorn. Got your message about the shellfish allergy."
"Yes, so sorry for the late notice. Can you accommodate?"
"Absolutely. I'll do a vegetable crudité with the same herb oil we're using for the shrimp. Keeps the flavor profile consistent but removes the allergen."
"That sounds perfect. Thank you for being flexible."
"That's what we do."
I hang up. Maya's already pulling vegetables from the cooler.
"Crudité it is," she says.
We work until midnight rebuilding the appetizer course. Testing ratios. Making sure the plating still reads elegant instead of thrown-together.
The herb oil is the key. Bright, aromatic, complex enough to carry the dish.
"This works," Maya says after the fifth iteration.
"This works," I agree.
We clean up. Lock the kitchen. Stand in the parking lot under stars that feel impossibly close.
"Big day tomorrow," she says.
"Big day."
"You good?"
I think about the choices that got us here. The local sourcing. The expensive frisée. The last-minute menu changes.
"Yeah," I say. "I'm good."
She hugs me. Quick and fierce.
"Your aunt would be proud," she says.
Second time today someone's told me that. Starting to believe it might be true.
Friday is controlled chaos. We load the van at dawn. Drive to the city. Navigate Foundation parking and their gleaming industrial kitchen.
The temps are nervous but focused. I walk them through the timeline. Who plates what, when. How to call for backup if they fall behind.
"Forty entrees, sixty apps, thirty desserts," I say. "We've done this. Trust your training."
Service starts at seven. We begin plating at six-thirty.
The crudité comes together beautifully. The temps nail the timing. The salads are pristine despite the irregular frisée.
