“And now you can make cookies.”
“Correction. Now I can watch you make cookies. I still don't think I'd be able to replicate it.”
“Don't worry! You can call me whenever you have a craving for something sweet.”
“I have one now,” I said, pressing against her, letting her feel the hardness of my length. “I want you,” I breathed against her mouth.
“I, um—” She pushed away. “I think maybe we should probably keep this professional, you know, since you’re a judge and I'm a contestant. It might just be better if we didn't do this.”
What the—
“Enjoy the cookies!” she called out as she practically ran out the front door.
“Fuck,” I said, staring around at the empty condo.
I absently cleaned up, the cookies taunting me.
How did I seriously fuck that up?
31
Holly
The next day, I was in a daze. We went shopping, and I mailed my subscription boxes. But all I could think about was Owen.
“So you seriously didn't unwrap any packages or let him put his hand in your stocking or any other sexual Christmas innuendos?” Fiona whispered as we stood in the studio space for another morning of baking.
I shook my head. “I chickened out.”
“Did you see it? Was it huge?”
“I don't know!” I groaned.
“I bet it was huge,” Fiona said matter-of-factly. “I mean, it has to be, right?”
“Don't make me feel worse,” I said, smoothing my skirt and trying not to look at Owen as he sat down at the judges’ table. He stared straight at me, as if he could eat me right up. I fidgeted with my necklace as Dana signaled to Anastasia.
“FromWhite ChristmastoMiracle on 34thStreet, the 1950s cemented our current image of Christmas as a lavish, joyous occasion. Fresh off of winning World War II with all the handsome GIs returning and wanting to start families and create picture-perfect moments, the fifties embodied the excess and extravagance of Christmas. They had new gadgets and canned food. The fifties housewife was willing to experiment to make her Christmas more festive than anyone else's in the Junior League. Today, our contestants are going to be creating desserts that evoke the 1950s aesthetic. Contestants, you have until this afternoon. Let's bake!”
I had worn my 1950s outfit with the corseted waist and the flared skirt with a mountain of petticoats that ended right at my ankles to reveal my cute red-and-green heels. The bodice had off-the-shoulder chiffon, and I wore a fake pearl necklace. I'd even managed to wake up early and convince Morticia to help me curl my hair so it hung around my face in a perfect fifties coif.
I went into the pantry and looked around. The fifties had been a time of great change, both in the world at large and in the world of food. Jell-O, canned food, boxed desserts—the decade had been all about novelty. However, food choices had also tended to be rather bland. Deviled eggs with a dash of paprika was about as crazy as the average housewife wanted to get with her flavors.
Since the fifties had also been the atomic age and people had given home chemistry sets to their children for Christmas that included, among other things, radioactive uranium ore, I decided to go retro atomic for my theme, and that meant molecular gastronomy. The whole point of this food movement was to use chemicals and processes to transform the physical properties of ingredients while leaving the essence of flavor.
I couldn't have a fifties Christmas dessert without Jell-O, and that was what I decided to build my dish around. Not Jell-O exactly but a nice custard. And unlike the fifties, I was also going to turn up the volume on flavor—way up.
“You looked dressed for the part,” Anastasia said as I laid out all the tools I needed. “Are you about to conduct an experiment?”
“A tasty experiment!” I said with a laugh. “Those avant-garde desserts you see on Instagram tend to have a lot of components arranged on a dish. You have to include several sauces, little crumbles, and small single tasty bites.”
“I can't wait to see it,” she said, moving on to talk to Fiona.
Along with the eggnog custard, I was going to make a baked Alaska truffle, since that was a dish fifties housewives used to slave over to make perfect for their dinner parties. I was also including a tart, fruity molded gelatin. I couldn't resist. There was something about Jell-O that was whimsical. However, I was going to make one that was tasty.
Because they were all very different elements, the flavor profiles would need to work in harmony. To go against the spice of the eggnog, the baked Alaska truffle would have chocolate sorbet. The molded gelatin would be cape gooseberry, a flowering plant that produces tart orange berries hidden in little translucent husks.
First up was the gelatin, since it needed to set. I wanted to display the molded dessert in the husk just to make it a little more interesting.
