Vanessa needed Shayna’s help with the buttons on her jacket.
The bandages covered most of her right hand and held two fingers apart.
She could move her thumb, but closing the hand tightened the damaged skin beneath the dressing.
“Hold still,” Shayna said.
“I am.” “You’re pulling away.” “It hurts.” “I know.” Vanessa looked toward the mirror.
One side of her hair had been brushed.
The other remained tangled from sleep.
“I can do that.” Shayna held out the brush.
Vanessa tried to close her fingers around it.
The handle slipped.
Neither woman spoke.
Shayna picked it up and began working through the remaining knots.
“I feel like an idiot.” “You burned your hand.” “I know what happened.” “Then stop acting like you chose it.” Vanessa watched their reflection.
“If I can’t hold a brush, how am I supposed to hold a knife?” Shayna separated another section of hair.
“You let the doctor answer that.” “The doctor isn’t competing.
He doesn’t lose anything if I can’t cook.” Shayna finished the last section and set down the brush.
“You haven’t lost yet.” Vanessa looked at the bandage.
She did not answer.
◆ The blue dormitory woke without Matt’s voice.
Ben sat on the edge of his bed, tying his shoes harder than necessary.
Bobby dressed without asking about the nomination.
Dominic stripped the sheets from Matt’s bed after production told them to clear the remaining belongings from the area.
Petrozza entered with an open package of cookies.
“Breakfast.” Louross looked at the package.
“Those were under your bed.” “They were protected.” “From what?” “The rest of you.” Petrozza offered one to Ben.
Ben shook his head.
“I don’t want a cookie.” “That sounds serious.” “I almost went home.” “You didn’t.” “Because Matt was worse.” Petrozza closed the package.
“That was the choice.” “Ramsay never explained why I was nominated.” Aurelio buttoned his jacket.
“He explained it in the dining room.” Ben looked toward him.
“He yelled at me.” “He described your service while doing it.” “I corrected the onion rings.” “After the first order came back.” “The second order was fine.” “Ramsay judged the entire night.” Ben stood.
“You’ve made one mistake in four services.” “More than one.” “Name them.” “I waited too long to take control during the first service.
I failed to verify your chowder time.
I started the first pasta challenge sheet at the wrong roller setting.
I reduced one sauce too far during prep and replaced it before service.” Ben stared at him.
“You wrote a list.” “No.” “That came out too fast not to be a list.” “I remember my mistakes.” “Congratulations.” Ben walked toward the door.
Bobby watched him leave.
“He’s going to be a problem.” Aurelio picked up his notebook.
“He already is.” ◆ Twelve chefs lined up in the dining room.
Ramsay looked first at Vanessa’s bandaged hand.
“How are you feeling?” “Fine, Chef.” He stared at her.
“Fine?” “Yes, Chef.” “Can you move your fingers?” “Some.” “Can you hold a knife?” Vanessa hesitated.
“I’ll manage.” “That wasn’t the question.” The dining room remained quiet.
“Not properly, Chef.” “Then do not tell me you’re fine.” “No, Chef.” Ramsay moved down the line.
“Louross.” “Yes, Chef?” “What is going through your mind this morning?” Louross straightened.
“It’s game time, Chef.” “Game time?” “Yes, Chef.” “Then I hope you came ready to play.” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay turned toward a covered table.
“A great chef can take something simple and make it extraordinary.” He lifted the silver dome.
A single pizza rested beneath it.
The crust was thin and blistered.
Shaved white truffle covered melted cheese at its center.
“This is served at Maze in London.
White truffle, fontina, shallot, and fresh herbs.” Shayna looked at the plate.
“How much?” Ramsay asked.
No one answered.
“Two hundred dollars.” Shayna’s eyes widened.
“I don’t own two-hundred-dollar shoes.” Ramsay looked toward her.
“Then cook a good pizza and perhaps one day you can afford them.” “Yes, Chef.” A few contestants smiled.
Ramsay raised his voice.
“Today, each of you will create a fine-dining pizza!
You have forty-five minutes to make something worthy of a place on tonight’s menu!” The contestants looked toward the ingredient tables.
Seafood, cured meats, mushrooms, cheeses, herbs, vegetables, and prepared sauces filled the containers.
“When time is called, each team will have fifteen minutes to taste every pizza and select one!” Ramsay pointed toward the red team.
“You bring me your best.” “Yes, Chef!” Then blue.
“Not your friend’s pizza.
Not the loudest person’s pizza.
The best.” “Yes, Chef!” He looked toward Aurelio.
“Your team called you its strongest chef yesterday.” “Yes, Chef.” “Today I want to see whether your food agrees.” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay lifted one hand.
“Forty-five minutes!
Your time starts now!” ◆ The ingredient tables disappeared beneath reaching hands.
Jen took prosciutto, sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and soft cheese.
Christina selected roasted garlic, wild mushrooms, and goat cheese.
Corey wrote her planned components on a piece of paper before touching the ingredients.
Rosann carried Italian sausage and peppers to her station.
Shayna chose chicken, spinach, and smoked cheese.
Vanessa stood at the table with her injured hand held close to her body.
“What do you need?” Christina asked.
“I can get it.” “Vanessa.” “Tomatoes.
Basil.
Prosciutto.” Christina collected them.
Vanessa returned to her station without thanking her.
No result had divided the teams yet.
Help remained part of the challenge.
On blue, Bobby stared across the ingredients.
“This is a sea of—” He pointed toward a container.
“Merchins.” “Sea urchins,” Dominic said.
“That’s what I said.” “It wasn’t.” Ben took duck confit, chanterelle mushrooms, onions, and cream.
Louross chose shrimp, roasted peppers, and mozzarella.
Dominic carried sausage, fennel, and tomato sauce to his board.
Petrozza examined three cheeses before selecting one.
Aurelio waited until the first rush cleared.
Then he took one portion of dough, pancetta, a small potato, rosemary, fontina, shallots, and a container of crème fraîche.
Ben looked at the ingredients.
“That’s it?” “Yes.” “This is fine dining.” “Yes.” “You’re making potato pizza.” “With pancetta.” “That makes all the difference.” “It will.” Ben returned to his station.
Aurelio checked the pizza oven.
The deck was hotter near the rear corner.
One side held heat longer when the door opened.
The temperature gauge showed the air inside the chamber, not the stone beneath the pizzas.
He placed one empty metal tray inside for thirty seconds, removed it, and touched flour to three points on its surface.
The flour browned first on the back edge.
Ramsay saw him.
“What are you doing?” “Checking the oven, Chef.” “By cooking an empty tray?” “Finding the hot side.” “You have forty-two minutes!” “Yes, Chef.” “Then stop studying the oven and cook!” “Yes, Chef.” Aurelio returned to his station.
He already had the answer.
◆ Ben wiped the chanterelles with a damp towel.
Bobby saw him.
“You washing those?” “I’m cleaning them.” “That isn’t washing.” “Mushrooms absorb water.” “They also grow in dirt.” “I know how to clean a mushroom.” Ben continued wiping.
Aurelio looked over once.
Grit remained in the folds beneath the cap of the largest chanterelle.
He turned back to his potatoes.
Ben had rejected correction throughout the previous service.
Another warning from Aurelio would become an argument unless Ben chose to hear it.
Aurelio sliced the potato thinly enough to cook before the crust darkened.
He blanched the slices, dried them, and rendered the pancetta until the fat became clear without making the meat brittle.
Petrozza worked at the next station.
“You planning to tell him?” “He knows mushrooms grow in dirt.” “That’s not what I asked.” “No.” Petrozza stretched his dough.
“You told him about the onion rings.” “He sent them anyway.” “So now you let him eat dirt?” “He’ll taste his pizza.” Petrozza looked toward Ben.
“That may not be enough.” Across the kitchen, Ramsay called the time.
“Thirty minutes remaining!” “Yes, Chef!” “Move!” ◆ Vanessa tried to stretch her dough with one hand.
The dough rotated beneath her palm but did not widen evenly.
One side became thin while the opposite edge remained heavy.
She trapped it against the board with her bandaged wrist.
Pain crossed her face.
Christina stepped closer.
“Let me.” “I have it.” “You’re tearing it.” “I said I have it.” Vanessa lifted the dough.
A hole had opened near the center.
She pressed the edges together with her left hand.
Ramsay reached her station.
“What happened?” “Small tear, Chef.” “Small?” He held the dough toward the light.
“I could put my head through that!” “I’ll fix it.” “How?” Vanessa did not answer.
“You cannot stretch dough with one hand.” “I can do it.” “You’re not doing it!” Vanessa looked down.
Ramsay lowered his voice without softening it.
“Ask for help.” “It’s my pizza.” “And your team’s challenge.” Vanessa looked toward Christina.
“Help me stretch it.” Christina took the opposite edge.
Together, they opened the dough without tearing it further.
Ramsay moved away.
Vanessa kept her face turned toward the board.
◆ Aurelio stretched his dough by hand.
He used no rolling pin.
The center remained thin without becoming translucent, and the outer edge retained enough trapped air to rise in the oven.
He spread a restrained layer of crème fraîche across it.
Petrozza watched him place the toppings.
“You’ve done that before.” “Yes.” “Where?” “A restaurant.” “Your family’s?” “No.” Petrozza waited for more.
Aurelio added the potatoes in overlapping circles.
The kitchen around him remained ordinary: commercial dough, domestic vegetables, standard cured pork, and an oven built to produce food for paying guests.
Nothing required the methods Komatsu had used for ingredients that fought back, changed beneath the knife, or demanded preparation measured against landscapes instead of cutting boards.
The principles remained useful.
Moisture.
Heat.
Sequence.
Respect for what the ingredient could become.
Aurelio scattered the pancetta and shallots, added fontina without burying the potatoes, and finished with rosemary.
The pizza would be balanced.
It would be controlled.
It would not reveal anything he did not intend to show.
“Twenty minutes!” Ramsay shouted.
Aurelio checked the dough beneath the toppings.
He had not overloaded it.
“Ready for the oven,” he said.
Petrozza looked at the clock.
“You’re early.” “The oven is the variable.” He placed the pizza near the cooler side of the deck.
◆ Jen built her pizza around prosciutto, sun-dried tomato, basil, and a herb crust.
She called across the red kitchen.
“Anybody using the good olive oil?” “I have it,” Rosann answered.
“I need it.” “So do I.” “I asked first.” “You asked after I took it.” Corey pointed without looking up.
“There’s another bottle behind Vanessa.” Jen collected it.
Communication on red remained quick because no one waited for permission to answer.
On blue, Bobby asked for the cream sauce.
Ben did not respond.
“Ben.” “I’m using it.” “You have the whole container.” “I made the sauce.” “You made enough for three pizzas.” “I don’t know what you’re doing.” “You don’t have to.” Ben looked toward him.
Bobby held out one hand.
“Sauce.” Ben passed the container.
Ramsay’s voice crossed both kitchens.
“Ten minutes!” “Yes, Chef!” “If your pizza is not in the oven, you are already late!” Louross moved first.
Dominic followed him.
Petrozza waited for Bobby to clear the door.
Ben placed his pizza near the hottest part of the deck.
Aurelio saw the mushrooms piled across its center.
They would release water faster than the cream beneath them could reduce.
“Move it left,” he said.
Ben looked into the oven.
“Mine needs heat.” “The center will soften before the crust sets.” “I know my pizza.” Ramsay shouted from behind them.
“Stop holding the oven open!” Ben closed the door.
Aurelio said nothing else.
◆ “Five minutes!” The pizzas came out in stages.
Aurelio rotated his once and returned it to the stone long enough to color the pale edge.
The crust lifted without burning.
The potato slices had browned at their exposed edges, while the crème fraîche remained beneath them instead of escaping onto the board.
He placed it on the cooling rack.
Petrozza looked at it.
“That’s clean.” “It needs two minutes before cutting.” “We have four.” “Then it has time.” Ben removed his pizza.
The crust had colored more quickly than the center.
Moisture from the mushrooms shone through the cream sauce.
He placed it beside Aurelio’s.
“Mine has more going on.” Aurelio examined the crust.
“Yes it does.” Ben waited.
“That’s it?” “It has more components.” “Which one is better?” “We taste after time.” Ramsay began counting.
“Ten!
Nine!
Eight!” Bobby carried his pizza to the table.
“Seven!
Six!” Louross nearly lost one piece of shrimp while moving his tray.
“Five!
Four!” Vanessa and Christina placed the final red pizza down together.
“Three!
Two!
One!
Stop!” Every hand left the food.
Ramsay looked across the twelve pizzas.
“Now you have fifteen minutes!” He pointed toward the teams.
“Taste everything.
Choose one pizza from each kitchen.” The contestants reached for their knives.
Ramsay raised his voice again.
“And if you choose based on friendship, volume, or ego, I will know!” The clock began.