The blue team tasted Bobby’s pizza first.
He had used roasted peppers, sausage, mozzarella, and a tomato sauce that carried more garlic than anyone expected.
Louross took a second bite.
“That’s good.” Bobby folded his arms.
“Of course it’s good.” “The crust is thick,” Ben said.
“It holds the toppings.” “It has to cook through too.” “It did.” Aurelio checked the center.
The dough was cooked, but the weight of the sauce had compressed it.
Another minute in the oven would have darkened the outer crust before improving the base.
“Good flavor,” he said.
“Too much sauce.” Bobby looked toward him.
“You put cream on potatoes.” “Yes.” “That isn’t an answer.” “It wasn’t a question.” The clock continued.
“Thirteen minutes remaining!” Ramsay shouted.
“Move!” They moved to Dominic’s pizza.
Sausage, fennel, tomato, and smoked cheese covered an uneven crust.
One edge had blistered correctly.
The opposite side remained pale where Dominic had failed to rotate it soon enough.
Petrozza tasted the darker side.
“Good seasoning.” Ben took a piece from the pale edge.
“This part’s soft.” “The oven cooks uneven,” Dominic said.
“That’s why you rotate it,” Aurelio replied.
“I did.” “Too late.” Dominic nodded.
He did not defend it again.
Louross cut his shrimp pizza next.
The roasted peppers and mozzarella worked.
The shrimp had released water into the center, softening the crust beneath them.
“I dried them,” Louross said.
“Not enough,” Bobby answered.
Louross tasted it.
His expression confirmed the problem before anyone else spoke.
Petrozza’s pizza followed.
He had used braised beef, caramelized onions, and provolone.
The crust was misshapen, but the beef remained tender and the onions carried enough acidity to balance the cheese.
“That tastes better than it looks,” Ben said.
Petrozza took another slice.
“That describes most of my food.” “It describes you,” Bobby said.
Petrozza smiled.
“Also true.” Ramsay called from the pass.
“Ten minutes!” “Yes, Chef!” “A decision means one pizza!
Not six opinions and no answer!” The blue team reached Aurelio’s.
◆ Aurelio cut the pizza into six equal slices.
The crust broke cleanly at the edge and bent at the center without collapsing.
The potatoes had cooked through.
Pancetta supplied salt, shallots brought sweetness, and rosemary remained present without overpowering the fontina.
No component announced itself first.
Bobby finished the slice before speaking.
“That’s better than I expected.” “You expected potatoes,” Aurelio said.
“I expected baked potatoes on bread.” Dominic took another bite from the edge.
“This is the best crust.” Petrozza nodded.
“It’s the most balanced.” Ben set down the remainder of his slice.
“It’s simple.” “The challenge began with a simple pizza,” Aurelio said.
“The simple pizza had white truffles.” “It also cost two hundred dollars.” “That’s my point.
Fine dining needs something.” “It needs good food.” Ben looked toward the remaining pizza.
“It tastes good.
It doesn’t win.” “You haven’t tasted yours,” Louross said.
“I know what mine tastes like.” They moved to it.
◆ Ben’s pizza carried the strongest aroma before anyone lifted a slice.
Duck confit covered a cream base with caramelized onions and chanterelle mushrooms.
The crust had darkened around the edges, and the center bent beneath the toppings.
Bobby took the first bite.
“That’s rich.” “Fine dining,” Ben said.
Petrozza chewed more slowly.
“The duck’s good.” “The onions work,” Louross added.
Dominic looked at the underside.
“Center’s soft.” “The flavor is stronger than Navarro’s,” Ben said.
Aurelio tasted one mushroom.
The grit did not appear in that piece.
He took a second from near the center.
Something fine caught between his teeth.
“Wash the mushrooms.” Ben looked toward him.
“I cleaned them.” “There’s grit in this one.” Ben took the mushroom from Aurelio’s slice and tasted it.
“I don’t feel anything.” “It’s there.” “We have eight minutes.” “If this is the choice, wash the next batch.” “Mushrooms absorb water.” “Rinse them quickly and dry them.” “That ruins the texture.” “Dirt ruins the pizza.” Ben put down the mushroom.
“One piece had something on it.” “One piece is enough.” Bobby looked between both pizzas.
“We need to choose first.” “Ben’s has bigger flavor,” Louross said.
“Aurelio’s is cleaner,” Petrozza replied.
Dominic pointed toward Aurelio’s tray.
“That’s my vote.” Ben looked at Bobby.
“Mine is a fine-dining pizza.
Duck confit, chanterelles, caramelized onion, cream sauce.
That’s what Ramsay asked for.” “He asked for extraordinary,” Aurelio said.
Ben’s eyes narrowed.
“You think potatoes are extraordinary?” “No.” “Then why are we arguing?” “We are choosing the better pizza.” “Which is mine.” Bobby raised one hand.
“Vote.
Ben’s or Aurelio’s.” “Ben,” Louross said.
“Aurelio,” Dominic answered.
“Aurelio,” Petrozza said.
Ben pointed toward his own pizza.
“Ben.” Bobby looked between the trays.
The clock continued.
“Six minutes!” Ramsay shouted.
Bobby made the decision.
“Ben.” Petrozza exhaled.
“That’s three to two.” Aurelio reached for a clean bowl.
“Then wash the mushrooms.” Ben caught the container first.
“We don’t have time to soak them.” “I said rinse.” “I cleaned them.” Aurelio held out his hand.
Ben kept the container.
Bobby looked at the clock.
“Five minutes.
Ben owns the toppings.
Aurelio, stretch the dough.
Louross, onions.
Dominic, duck.
Petrozza, sauce.” Aurelio did not move.
Bobby looked at him.
“Navarro.” “The mushrooms need washing.” “Ben says they’re clean.” “They aren’t.” Ben struck the container against the worktable.
“I wiped every one.” Bobby looked inside it.
No dirt was visible from above.
“Pick through them.
Anything dirty comes out.” “That won’t remove grit beneath the caps,” Aurelio said.
“Four minutes!” Ramsay shouted.
Bobby pointed toward the dough.
“Make the pizza.” Aurelio took the dough.
The team had chosen Ben’s pizza.
Bobby had given the order.
Aurelio stretched the crust.
The decision remained wrong.
Following it remained his.
◆ The red team reached agreement before tasting every pizza twice.
Jen’s herb crust carried prosciutto, sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and a blend of Italian and French cheeses.
The toppings remained distinct without leaving the pizza bare.
Christina’s mushroom and goat-cheese pizza received the second-most support.
Corey looked toward both trays.
“Jen’s looks more expensive.” “It tastes better,” Rosann said.
“Same answer,” Jen replied.
Vanessa stood beside her own pizza.
Christina had helped stretch the dough, but Vanessa had selected and arranged the toppings.
Prosciutto, tomato, basil, and mozzarella covered the crust.
She cut one slice with her left hand.
The wheel drifted sideways.
Shayna steadied the tray.
Vanessa tasted the result.
The center was heavier than she intended.
The tomatoes had not drained completely before baking.
“We should choose Jen’s,” she said.
Jen looked toward her.
“You sure?” “Yes.” No one required a vote after that.
“Four minutes!” Ramsay shouted.
The red team began rebuilding Jen’s pizza.
Vanessa reached for the basil.
Jen moved the container closer without speaking.
◆ “Thirty seconds!” Both teams carried their pizzas toward the presentation table.
Aurelio supported the blue tray from beneath while Bobby guided the dome over it.
On red, Jen centered her pizza.
“Ten!” The blue pizza remained hot enough that steam collected against the inside of the dome.
“Nine!
Eight!” Aurelio looked through the narrow gap.
The center had retained more moisture than the first attempt.
“Seven!
Six!” “Close it,” Bobby said.
“Five!
Four!” Aurelio lowered the dome.
“Three!
Two!
One!
Stop!” Every hand left the table.
Ramsay walked between the teams.
“Red team, who selected your pizza?” “Jen, Chef,” Christina answered.
“Unanimous?” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay looked toward Vanessa.
“Yours was not chosen?” “No, Chef.” “Disappointed?” “Yes, Chef.” “Then make them regret it in the next challenge.” Vanessa held her bandaged hand against her jacket.
“Yes, Chef.” Ramsay turned toward blue.
“Whose pizza?” “Ben’s, Chef,” Bobby said.
“Vote?” “Three to two.” “Which was the other?” “Aurelio’s.” Ramsay looked toward him.
“You did not vote for yourself?” “No, Chef.” “Why?” “I did not vote.” The blue team turned toward him.
Ramsay stared.
“You had two pizzas competing for the team’s decision, and you did not vote?” “The other five created a majority.” “That is not an answer!” “No, Chef.” “Why didn’t you vote?” Aurelio looked toward Ben’s covered pizza.
“I had already stated which one I thought was better.” “Yours?” “Yes, Chef.” “Then own the decision!” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay pointed toward the blue dome.
“Bring it forward.” Bobby and Ben carried the pizza to the pass.
◆ Jen presented first.
“A little bit of Italy and a little bit of France,” she said.
“Herb crust, prosciutto, sun-dried tomato, basil, and a blend of soft cheeses.” Ramsay lifted one slice.
The base held.
He tasted the crust first, then the center.
“Good.” Jen kept her hands behind her back.
“The crust is thin.
The herbs are present without overpowering it.
Prosciutto is salty, but the tomatoes and cheese balance it.” “Thank you, Chef.” “This is a fine-dining pizza.” Jen allowed herself one breath.
Ramsay turned toward blue.
Ben stepped forward.
“Duck-confit pizza with chanterelle mushrooms, caramelized onion, and a cream sauce.” “Who cleaned the mushrooms?” “I did, Chef.” Ramsay lifted a slice.
The center bent beneath the toppings.
He took one bite.
His expression changed.
Ben saw it.
Ramsay swallowed and looked toward the blue team.
“Come here.” The men approached.
Ramsay held out the slice.
“Look at the mushrooms.” Ben leaned closer.
“They’re cooked, Chef.” “I didn’t ask if they were cooked.” Ramsay removed one chanterelle and opened the cap.
A dark line remained inside the fold.
“Dirt.” Ben stared at it.
“I wiped them.” “You wiped the top!” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay handed him the mushroom.
“Eat it.” Ben did.
“Feel that?” Ben chewed.
“Yes, Chef.” “What is it?” “Grit.” “Grit!” Ramsay turned toward the team.
“You selected a pizza with dirty mushrooms!” No one answered.
“Who tasted it?” “All of us, Chef,” Bobby said.
“And no one noticed?” Aurelio spoke.
“I did.” Ben looked toward him.
Ramsay’s voice dropped.
“You noticed.” “Yes, Chef.” “And what did you do?” “I told Ben to wash them.” “Did he?” “No, Chef.” “Did you wash them?” “No, Chef.” “Why?” “Bobby assigned Ben control of the toppings.” Ramsay stepped closer.
“So you knew the mushrooms were dirty, knew they were going onto your team’s pizza, and allowed it because Bobby assigned the toppings to Ben.” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay pointed toward the pizza.
“That is not discipline.
That is cowardice dressed as obedience.” Aurelio held his gaze.
“Yes, Chef.” “You wanted the kitchen yesterday.” “Yes, Chef.” “Today, dirt went into the oven because you obeyed an order you knew was wrong!” “Yes, Chef.” “Stop saying yes and understand it!” Aurelio did.
The distinction reached farther than pizza.
Ramsay turned toward Ben.
“And you—your teammate told you the mushrooms were dirty!” “I thought I cleaned them properly.” “You thought wrong!” “Yes, Chef.” “You ruined a good pizza with dirt.” Ramsay looked between both teams.
“Red team wins.” The women reacted together, but their celebration remained on their side of the dining room.
The blue team stayed silent.
No one from red addressed them.
No one from blue answered the celebration.
◆ Ramsay placed one hand on Jen’s shoulder.
“Your pizza will appear on tonight’s menu.” Jen smiled.
“Thank you, Chef.” “And the red team will join me for lunch at Square One in Santa Barbara.” Rosann covered her mouth.
“You’ll travel by helicopter.” Shayna looked toward the ceiling as if the aircraft might already be above them.
“I’ve always wanted to go in a helicopter.” “Then get changed.” “Yes, Chef!” Ramsay waited until the women had left the dining room before addressing blue.
“You will prepare every pizza for tonight’s service.” The men stared ahead.
“Ben.” “Yes, Chef?” “You lost the challenge with dirty mushrooms.” “Yes, Chef.” “Bobby.” “Yes, Chef?” “You chose the pizza.” “Yes, Chef.” “Aurelio.” “Yes, Chef?” “You recognized the problem and permitted it.” “Yes, Chef.” “You three managed to fail in three different ways.” “Yes, Chef.” “Get into the kitchen.” ◆ The red team changed into casual clothes upstairs.
Vanessa needed help again.
Christina fastened the cuff around her bandage while Shayna helped pull a light jacket over the injured arm.
Jen stood near the door.
“You ready?” Vanessa looked at the hand hidden beneath the sleeve.
“Yes.” They left together.
The helicopter waited beyond the production lot.
No one from the blue team came outside to watch them depart.
◆ Ramsay entered the blue kitchen while the first pizza dough rested on the worktable.
No one spoke.
Louross tied a white towel around his head and moved from the refrigerator to the prep table.
Ramsay watched him.
“What is that?” Louross stopped.
“A towel, Chef.” “I can see it’s a towel.
Why is it on your head?” “Sweat.” “You’ve been in the kitchen three minutes.” “Yes, Chef.” “What is wrong with you?” “Nothing.” “Nothing?” Louross looked toward the dough.
“I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine.” “I wanted to win.” “So did everyone!” “Yes, Chef.” Ramsay looked across the men.
“You do not need to like one another.
You do not need to become friends.” The kitchen remained still.
“But during service, you must trust the person beside you.
If Ben says the mushrooms are clean and Aurelio says they are not, somebody has to verify the truth instead of protecting an ego.” Ben looked down.
Ramsay pointed at the preparation list.
“You lost because the team chose ambition over execution and then refused to correct a visible problem.” No one answered.
“Tonight, you have pizza on the menu.
Bond as a team, or the difference between you and red will become embarrassing.” “Yes, Chef.” “Start prepping.” Ramsay left.
Louross removed the towel from his head.
Ben looked toward him.
“You planning to cry into the dough?” Louross turned.
“What did you say?” “We don’t need somebody walking around like a wounded puppy.” “I’m pissed because we lost.” “We lost because of the mushrooms.” “You cooked them.” “And Aurelio knew.” Louross looked toward Aurelio.
Aurelio portioned the dough.
“I knew.” Ben spread both hands.
“There.
He admitted it.” Louross looked back at Ben.
“He also told you to wash them.” Ben stepped closer.
“He could have washed them himself.” “You could have listened.” “Stay out of it.” “You brought me into it.” Petrozza moved between the tables.
“Enough.” Louross pointed toward Ben.
“He thinks everybody else is responsible for what he cooks.” Ben laughed once.
“You spent the challenge making wet shrimp pizza.” “Mine didn’t have dirt in it.” “Because nobody chose it.” Bobby struck the worktable.
“Stop.” Neither man did.
Aurelio placed the dough scraper down.
“The mushrooms were Ben’s responsibility.” Ben looked toward him.
“The team’s pizza was mine.” The kitchen quieted.
Aurelio continued.
“I identified the problem and followed Bobby’s assignment instead of preventing it.
Ramsay was correct.” Bobby’s face tightened.
“You’re saying my order was wrong.” “Yes.” “You followed it.” “I did.” “So that makes you what?” “Wrong as well.” Bobby held his gaze.
The answer left him nowhere to redirect the blame.
Petrozza picked up the prep list.
“We have thirty-six dough portions.” Louross returned to the refrigerator.
Ben reached for the mushrooms.
This time, he carried them to the sink.