Page 21 of Fumbling for Affection

“It’s based on my abuela’s.”

“Is it one you’ve made before?” the pastry chef asked, as if preparing for another on-the-fly recipe. Lucas laughed.

“We made it several times this week. So much so that we’re a little tired of it.”

“Savory or sweet?” asked the restaurateur.

“It’s a bit of both. They have a traditional tamale filling made with QV masa, and we added chorizo and feta cheese from Thistlestone Ranch. We steamed them in the oven first and then finished them with a spicy honey glaze.”

“The honey is my nanna’s from Thistlestone Ranch, too,” Cal interjected. “The blueberries are from his family’s farm.” He jerked his thumb toward Lucas.

“You can eat the tamales as they are, or with some of the blueberry sauce,” Lucas said, nodding to Bash, who added a spoonful of the sauce from his pan to each of the judges’ plates.

Maggie held her breath as each judge took a bite. The tamales sounded delicious, but they didn’t qualify. This was a baking contest, not a steaming contest. The CEO tapped his plate, and Bash gave him more sauce. That’s not a good sign. Maggie’s stomach clenched.

Or maybe it’s overcooked, and it needs moisture, she thought, knowing it was a lie based on the judges’ faces. After the apple pie, they’d dropped their indifferent faces and now, with Lucas’s yummy tamales floating in their stomachs, they didn’t have the energy to put them back on. He’d lulled them into a happy food coma. Maggie stuffed her hands into her pocket to keep from biting her nails.

“And Nanna made the feta? Where does she sell it?”

“It’s always a small batch, and it depends on our milk production, but when she has it, she sells it at the Old Town Square’s farmers’ market,” Cal said, not sounding nervous.

“And the chorizo?”

“Albertson’s,” Lucas said, shrugging, and the judges laughed. If they loved his steamed-not-baked tamales as much as they seemed to love him, Maggie could kiss her dreams goodbye. They were eating up his tough-guy, football player, softie-at-heart shtick almost as quickly as they ate the tamales.

It looked like the restaurateur wanted to lick his plate, which already was almost clean. Until Lucas and his stupid tamales, they’d only taken bites, leaving most of it on their plate. But now? Plates were clean, bellies were full, and Maggie’s chances were slim. A full belly shuts down the taste buds no matter how delicious the offering.

You’re not done yet, she told herself as she grabbed the cake stand and carefully made her way to the judges’ table. Her apple spice cake would pair nicely with Lucas’s not-baked tamales. Going after him might be a blessing in disguise.

“The eggs are from our farm, and the butter and cream cheese is from Moo Please Dairy. I usually serve this with their cinnamon ice cream, and I have some in my freezer, if you’d like,” Maggie said nervously, but the judges shook their heads. She swallowed before saying, “I baked the cakes with QV’s cake flour.”

“And the apples?”

“Are from the farmers’ market. Any baking variety will work.” She watched as the judges took a bite. And then another. She breathed a little easier.

“The frosting has an interesting taste,” said the culinary director. “Tell me more.” Maggie prayed interesting was code for out-of-your-mind, deliciously good.

“I replaced some of the liquid with Thistlestone honey to give it a richer sweetness.”

“Popular honey,” said the culinary director, taking another bite before pushing away her plate. Maggie smiled sweetly, but she didn’t elaborate. If they hadn’t figured out she and Cal were related, she wouldn’t enlighten them. “Thank you, Maggie. That was delicious.”

Maggie almost skipped back to her station. They hadn’t said anything like that to any of the others, including Lucas. She was so close she could almost taste the sweetness of victory. And she wasn’t the only one. Lucas and the offense won, too.

The last competitor left the judging table, and, from the slump of his shoulders, Maggie knew it hadn’t gone well. This is the last competition ever, she promised herself. She didn’t like that she was comfortable watching others fail so that she could win. But if it gets me Brewster’s, this uncomfortable feeling and having people watch my every move will be worth it.

The judges stepped away from the table and huddled in a corner, comparing their notes. She glanced across the audience, and it surprised her to see both Teton teams together in the small kitchen, laughing and joking with each other as if being in a baking competition was a daily thing for them. The baking might not be, and Lucas didn’t bake anything, he just steamed it in the oven, but competing was.

Whatever the outcome, they’d go about their regular routines and this morning would be a blip on their radar. An event forgotten in a few weeks or months. But for Maggie, today would be etched in her brain. She’d always remember the day she’d won and could finally buy Brewster’s.

The pastry judge’s hands flew as she talked, and the culinary director and CEO appeared to be butting heads. The president of the local farmers’ association shrugged his shoulders as the restaurateur interrupted everyone and passed his phone around. Maggie doubted it was a funny meme or baby goats in pajamas playing in the field.

Whatever was on his phone seemed to placate the group, and they slowly made their way back to their chairs. The restaurateur and culinary director looked ecstatic, while everyone else looked resigned. Satisfied in their choice, but not thrilled. Why isn’t everyone thrilled with my cake? she wondered as the CEO cleared his throat.

“This has been a most interesting contest and on behalf of everyone at QV Flour and Milling, thank you for joining us today. For the bakers and your families, who no doubt have supported you on your journey, your talents and passions shone through. To the Tumble Falls Festival organizers for allowing us to join you, and to everyone at the fair. I’ve been to a lot of these all over the country, and I’ve got to say, you’ve got something special here, folks. Something to be proud of.”

Enough with the flowery words. Get on with it. Maggie placed a hand over her heart, holding it in place.

“Today’s winner reminded us of our humble beginnings. We are millers. Proudly grinding grains for you to feed your families, whether it be daily staples like bread or muffins, or desserts for special occasions and celebrations, or just being together. It is with all of this in mind that I’m pleased to announce that the winner of today’s QV Flour and Milling Contest and ten thousand dollars is the Tetons’ offense with their savory sweet tamales.”

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