“I just finish cooking the duck legs,” Mebel says.
“Ooh! Okay, tell me how they taste.” Gemma leans forward, her eyes dancing with excitement.
“Okay, this first one is with less clove,” Mebel says, cutting into the leg and popping a piece of the meat into her mouth. Her eyes flutter closed on their own accord.My god, she thinks.Amazing.
Dry-aging meat makes the natural enzymes in it break down connective tissue, which tenderizes the meat. In addition to that, it also intensifies the natural flavor, so instead of tasting like duck, this piece of duck leg tastes likeduck.
“Oh, so good!” Mebel says when she finally swallows the mouthful of duck.
“Yay!” Gemma cheers. “Okay, try the others.”
Mebel does so, and declares the second piece the winner.
“The one with less star aniseed?” Gemma says.
Mebel nods. “You are right, the star aniseed toooverpowering. I can actually taste the clover honey in the second one. Is very subtle.”
“All right, Mebs! Well done!” Gemma raises her hand and they do a virtual high five.
Mebel continues working on the dish, perfecting every component. The crumbled crunchy duck skin turns out to be a lot harder than she had expected to master. Her first attempt is a major fail. When she bites into it, oil gushes over her tongue, so utterly disgusting that Mebel has to spit it out. The second attempt results in a tough crumble. “Like trying to chew sand,” Mebel describes to Gemma, who suggests drying the skin for twelve hours before frying it. The third attempt is better, and the fourth attempt is so delicious that Mebel tears up.
The more days pass and the more hours Mebel spends in the kitchen on her own, the more at peace she becomes. She has never known this joy before, the joy that comes with being satisfied by your own handiwork. She has never had such a long-term project to devote herself to before. No one had expected this of her. Certainly she never expected it of herself.
Each morning, Mebel wakes up with a renewed sense of purpose. When she gets dressed, she finds a spark of happiness as she ties her apron around her waist and places her chef’s hat on her head. She no longer bothers doing her hair since she knows there won’t be any chance of her saving it after wearing a chef’s hat for ten straight hours, and she has stopped wearing most of her makeup, since there is also no saving makeup after rushing around in a hot kitchen for ten straight hours.
Sometimes, she will grab a meal with Bruce, Adam, and Bella, but the meals are short and tight-lipped, and as they getnearer to the day of the banquet, they stop going out altogether. Mebel is sad, but at the same time, she understands that this is a natural occurrence when a group of passionate people are pitted against one another. She hopes that once the competition is over, they will go back to their old camaraderie.
She sees Alain once in a while, and her rising awareness of the nature of their relationship empowers her. When they first started seeing each other, Mebel was swept off her feet by Alain, who is so charming and larger than life itself. But now, she sees that he is human, just like her. Like her, he shows signs of aging; the skin on his arms and his legs is slightly loose, and she knows there are certain positions he can’t do in bed due to them being too harsh on his knees. His imperfections do not turn Mebel off; rather, they remind her that at the end of the day, they are all human and flawed, crashing into each other’s lives by pure chance and enjoying each other’s company when they can. She knows that the relationship with Alain won’t go further than what they have, and this, too, is a new experience for her. She has never dated a guy without marriage as a goal, and there is a certain degree of liberation that comes from that knowledge, that she isn’t here to convince him to put a ring on it. That there is nothing for her to convince him to do other than pick a good restaurant for dinner. Part of Mebel is certain that she will pass away much later in life as an unmarried woman, and for that, she is grateful.
Three days before the banquet, Mebel finally completes the entire dish. The dry-aged duck meat has been cooked to perfection before being placed on top of a soft Chinese crepe brushed with the most delectable duck sauce. She places a sliver of cucumber and a sliver of scallion on top of the duck meat beforesprinkling it with a generous amount of crumbled crunchy duck skin. Then she rolls the crepe up, picks it up with her chopsticks to take a bite, and pauses. She looks at the crepe. There is no doubt in her mind that this is the most delicious thing she has ever made in her life, and her mouth is watering at the sight and smell of it, but she doesn’t want to experience this moment alone.
Before Mebel can change her mind, she assembles the remaining ingredients, making ten rolls in total, then packs them all up in a plastic container. She cleans her workstation up, and as she leaves the kitchen, she orders an Uber. Minutes later, Mebel is in a car, the duck crepes sitting safely on her lap.
“Mebs!” Gemma says when she opens the door. “What are you doing here?”
Mebel holds up the container. “Ta-da!”
Gemma’s eyes widen. “Is that…?”
“Yes, I finish it. This is final dish.” Mebel slides into the house without waiting for Gemma to invite her in.
“How does it taste?” Gemma says, locking the door behind her. “Is it just the most divine thing ever?”
Mebel sits down at the couch. “I don’t know. I haven’t taste yet.”
“Why not?”
Mebel gestures at Gemma to sit down next to her. “Because you create the dish. I want to try it together.”
“Oh, Mebs,” Gemma says. She sits down on the sofa and tucks her feet under her. “I didn’t create the dish. This is all your hard work.”
“Nonsense. You give me the recipe. Now, no more talking. I want to eat.” Mebel opens the container, and a delicious aroma fills the room. They each pick out one roll.
“Smells amazing,” Gemma says. “Cheers.” They tap the rolls against each other and then take a bite.
It is, indeed, the most divine thing Mebel has ever tasted. She is probably biased, but she doesn’t care. Both she and Gemma close their eyes and moan out loud as they chew through the different textures of the dish. There’s the soft crepe, followed by the crunch of the salty crumbled skin and a pop of refreshing flavor from the cucumber and scallion, and finally, there is the star of the dish, the duck meat. It is so tender that it almost falls apart at first touch, but retains a satisfying chew, and the taste of it is so intense, it’s like eating meat in its purest form.
“Oh my god,” Gemma says. “Mebs, you are going to win this competition, hands down.”
