Page 13 of In a Pinch

I set down the baskets of different fruits and vegetables they will be chopping up and two different kinds of knives to teach them which ones to use in what situations. Also, I took the liberty of printing out waivers saying we aren’t responsible if you cut your finger off, because I enjoy not being sued and my faith in the general population is pretty low.

Because I got here ridiculously early because no part of me wants to shit the bed when it comes to this process, I have plenty of time to burn. I spend the next few minutes finalizing some of my plans for the eight-week course. By the end, they should be able to make a full meal and dessert, and all without burning the place down.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I see it’s about time for attendees to start rolling in. Taking a quick lap around the room, I make sure all is in place.

A familiar voice floats into the room. If my nerves weren’t frayed before they are now.

No. No. No. Absolutely not.

In waltz my future sister-in-law and her best friend, the smoking hot redhead, whose entire 5’3 frame is filled to the brim with sass and feminine rage. Our only interactions while shevisited over Christmas were filled with arguments and smart-ass remarks.

Isla isn’t that bad, actually. I really want to like her, but around my family, I feel like a completely different person. My defenses go up and I detach myself. When you get burned enough, you learn your lesson to quit trusting people. It doesn’t help that we couldn’t be more different. Every one of them is successful in their own businesses and climbing the corporate ladder. And I hate anything that has to do with me sitting in an office all day.

My dad never lets me forget how disappointing it is that both his sons won't be taking over his enterprise. You know, God forbid I chase my own dreams. I did just that and found myself cut off. My dad wouldn’t pay for culinary school. I had to resort to cooking classes, much to my dismay, like this one. And now, here we are. Full circle. I am back where I started, and my family is still shitting all over my career.

“Sam? Is that you?” There goes my very farfetched dream that Isla wouldn't recognize me. We’ve met a couple times, but I’m wearing my Flambé get up.

“Hello, Isla. Welcome to class. Pick any station.” She smiles at me and picks the station at the front of the class.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Addie says as a smile spreads across her lips. The sparring will be starting early, I see.

I can’t help but wonder why she’s here and not Cal. Guess I should be considering myself lucky it’s her here instead. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her, and I’d almost forgotten how alluring she is. Her curly red hair tumbles down her back, and for a half a second, I wonder what it would feel like in my hands. But then I remember she is on the enemy’s team and snap out of it.

“Since you’re the one walking into my class, it looks like the cat dragged you in.” I should probably be more professional, but I just can't help it. I wonder why she is here on a Monday. Sinceshe was just in Maine weeks ago, I figured the state was safe for a few more weeks. “Shouldn’t you be back in Colorado?”

“Real original, Chef Boyardee. And no, you’re looking at Maine’s newest resident.” Her eyes roll and she follows Isla to the station. Why did she even bother leaving after New Year’s if she was planning on moving here the whole time?

The rest of the attendees roll in, and class begins.

“Thank you all for joining me. I’m Sam, and I am a chef down at Flambé. I’ve been cooking for as long as I can remember, and I hope to share my love of all things cooking with you all. I’m excited to show you all some basics and help take your skills to the next level. We’re going to go around the room, and I would like some feedback on what you are hoping to learn during your weeks with me.”

I nod to the couple at the first table on the right, and they start firing off things. Lucky for me, most of the things are already on my list, but I take notes. If they are investing their time, it's my responsibility to make it worth it.

“Isla, you're up.” I nod to her.

“Oh, well, I’d like to be able to properly measure things and not almost poison your brother every time I cook for him.” I can’t help but chuckle at that one. At least she is honest.

Addie turns her head in my direction. “I’m only here because this bitch dragged me here. I already know how to cook.” Now that answer was not something I was expecting. Though, I probably should have.

Choking back a laugh, I nod and move to the next station before she can catch wind that I find her amusing. She’s funny and pretty. What a deadly combo.

We settle in and I hand out cards that break down measuring cups, fluid ounces vs. dry measurements, and when to use what. There are also basic cooking utensils and what they should be used for on there.

Drawing the attention back up to the front of the class, I dive into the meat of the lesson. “Alright, guys, we are going to learn different knife skills today. Go slow and be careful.”

I grab my chef’s knife and demonstrate the easiest way to dice a handful of different vegetables. “With onions, it’s done half the work for you with having layers. We are going to do a set of equally spaced lines throughout the whole onion, while avoiding the roots. Then, turn it, create a crisscross pattern, and cut equally as deep.”

I watch the class complete the step, correcting those who are mutilating their onions. It’s no surprise that my future sister-in-law is one of them. She mentioned not being great at the beginning of class, but I figured she was being dramatic. Obviously, I was wrong. I chuckle under my breath as I watch from a safe distance.

“What the hell are you doing?” An incredulous look fills Addie's face, as she watches Isla obliterate the poor onion. Its layers start to fall apart and crumble.

“I’m cutting the onion,” Isla says dryly. Which makes Addie flick her on the forehead. And then, Addie shows her again how to do it.

Round two, she does much better. Addie’s knife work is actually kind of impressive. She moves with control, and everything is equally proportioned. I’d compliment her, but it’d go straight to her head.

I finish the demonstrations and walk around the class, breathing out a sigh of relief every time I notice no blood on anyone's station. I answer all their questions from the sheet I had handed out. With their feedback, I add a couple of notes of things to add to my lesson plans. They all seem eager to learn, making this feel a little less dreadful. Surprise fills me when I realize I’m actually a little excited to see them grow in their skills.

Before I know it, the hour is up, and we wrap up class. They have successfully chopped everything up and avoided their fingertips. Before heading home, they all get a bowl to take home their cut up veggies.

---