Chapter 1 “And it is my great pleasure to introduce world renowned Executive Chef, Henri Choinard, Director of the famous French School of Culinary and Pastry Arts, who will do the honors of presenting this year’s winner of the prestigious Donovan Award for overall excellence.” Peter Hammond began. “This year has been so exciting! There have been so many five star experts who have won this award over the years, and the winner this year is another who far surpasses the meaning of ‘pastry chef’.” Peter turned his attention to the audience, acknowledging the entrants who had given their best shot at what was tossed their way this week. He nodded and continued, “I wish all of the contestants the very best luck. “Now, I will turn this over to Henri for the award presentations.” Peter announced. Peter, who never had a hair out of place, who looked like a million bucks in his customary black tux had been the emcee for these local pastry/baking/food competitions for years and took as much pride in the winners as the winners themselves. He owned two Five Star restaurants and a ribs place in Acorn Hills. Peter was a well-known, well-respected chef himself and loved the spotlight whenever he could be in it. He was the type of a person who could smile and you instantly saw the little glitter shine from one of his teeth! He handed the microphone to Chef Choinard who bowed to him and gave the customary kiss-on-each-cheek greeting and took his place center stage to begin the award ceremony. Chef H., as Ginger remembered calling him, was a rotund little Frenchman. He reminded her of the man in the Chef Boyardee commercials. He had a very gentle demeanor and expression. But he had a temper too, when things were not going as he wished. “Merci, Peter. Let’s give him a big thank you for his years of work with the Donovan Award competition.” Chef Henri slightly raised his arms and began clapping and the crowd erupted with applause and whistles and shouts of thanks that lasted more than it should have. Ginger smiled and stood, joining the others in their gratitude of this man, but really wished they would just get on with it! She was tired. It had been a long 3 days of competition. She just wanted to go home, kick off her shoes, make some hot chocolate and snuggle her man. However, these award ceremonies seemed to take longer and longer every time she entered and it made her wonder why she felt the need to be a part of them. Yet if she was going to make a name for herself here in Acorn Hills, she was going to have to do all she could, and that meant entering competitions like this one. Chef Choinard waved his hands for people to quiet down and take their seats, yet it still took several minutes to get that accomplished. She giggled to herself, maybe the others were as tired of sitting as she was and were just taking advantage of the opportunity to stand and stretch before all the awards were given. The competitors were seated at tables that were front and center of microphone Chef Henri was using. It made it very convenient to get up and get to the stage to accept your award, if you were one of the lucky ones. “You know,” Chef Henri began, his heavy French accent making it difficult to understand his words at times. “Eet takes so much to enter competish-i-ons like this one. There are three categorees; Best pastry, Best plating, and Best flavor. These have already been judged. The competish-i-on this year has been incredible and I hold in my hand the results of the judging. Bonne Chance a tous!” He nodded to the crowd. He then turned the paper over he was holding and began reading, “In third place, placing 3rd in pastry, 2nd in plating and 3rd in flavor, Senor Jose Arina!” Jose made his way to the stage and proudly bowed as the medal was placed around his neck and the crowd erupted again with shouts of appreciation. Peter began “Jose owns a very upscale Mexican/Mariachi restaurant in Coral Knoll, but also serves the best pastries of any restaurant of that genre in the area. Once again, congratulations, Mr. Jose Arina!” Applause erupted. Chef Henri looked like a proud “papa” as he introduced the winners. He continued, “In 2nd place and overall champion in the chocolate competition, Monseiur Dickie Mason!” Mason made his way to the stage while Peter added to what was already said. “ Dickie also placed 2rd in pastry, 3rd in plating and 2nd in flavor. Let’s hear it for Dickie Mason!” Mason made his way to the stage and greeted Jose and also bowed to receive his medal and customary cheek kissing from Chef Henri. Dickie, too, was no stranger to the food wars of competition. He was in his early 60’s and quite the chocolatier and blown candy maker. He was the instructor for the continuing education class Ginger took on candy making. She learned a lot about the technique of blown sugar. She was truly happy for him getting 2nd place. Ginger stood and applauded Dickie as he accepted his medal. He was her most stiff competition. It must be the champagne because she giggled at the thought of the words running through her head. She was sure that Dickie couldn’t make anything stiff except egg whites even if he tried! He was a very talented chocolatier and one of the nicest guys you’d ever meet. Just a little, um, eccentric. Yes, that was it, eccentric. She smiled and looked around the room. So many other talented chefs were at this event. She spotted Jacque Monet, the head chef of the Acorn Hills Regency, a five star hotel. Over in the corner behind him was Bruce Dinsmore, the head chef of Baklava, who was last year’s winner. These men were so far above her, so out of her league. She was a fish out of her pond trying to swim with the big guys. She simply felt she didn’t stand a chance of winning this year. She sat back down and Jordan grabbed her hand. He sensed her disappointment, could feel the wind just taken out of her sails for this whole thing. In her heart she was fully prepared to lose, yet again, but with each competition, she gained valuable experience, and that is what counted. Just once, though, she wished she could have the limelight of prestige that came with winning one of these “medal” competitions. She audibly sighed, making Jordan bring her hand up to his lips and kiss it as he put his other arm around the back of her chair in a reassuring gesture. Ginger smiled feebly at Jordan and turned her attention back to center stage. After the crowd settled down and it was quiet as could be, Chef Henri began the announcement of the “big” award. “It is an honour to announce zee First Place weener of zees’ year’s Donovan award.” Chef Henri began. “Zees Chef has proven time and again how pastry should look and taste. I am so proud to say that zees chef is one of my star students from zee past and has achieved first place judging in all three categories of zees competish-i-on.” Ginger looked quizzically at Jordan after that statement. As far as she knew she was the only one from this area that had attended his school. Her heart was in her throat. Chef Henri continued, “Her lemon curd tart took best of show in pastry and flavor and her whimsical ‘chocolate with a swirl’ captured best plating. It is with great pleasure I introduce you to this year’s gagnant du grand prix, Mademoiselle Ginger Farnsworth.” The room went crazy with shouts of joy and whistles when Ginger’s name was announced. She froze in her seat. Her hand instinctively went to cover her mouth. “Oh my God!” She thought, “Really?” HER lemon curd tart? HER chocolate swirl? Oh holy hell! She had just won! She had just won the Donovan Award and, more importantly, along with it a check for $20,000! She was stunned! She heard the cheering and clapping and she saw Jordan next to her trying to get her out of her seat to walk up to the stage to accept her award. She felt like she was watching Robin Williams as he re-enacted winning his Oscar. Time stopped for her and it felt like she was moving in very slow motion as she made her way to the stage. Cameras were flashing, people were cheering and applauding; and to have to speak following this; sure that was going to be a happening thing! She moved toward the stage. The lights made her shimmer from head to toe in the form fitting copper sequined gown and set her auburn hair on fire. The very expensive designer heels that matched her dress made her feet feel like lead. This was the only “good” party dress she owned and the only time she wore it was at the dinners of the competitions she entered. She was grateful no one noticed she wore the same thing to all of them, and if they did, they didn’t say anything about it to her. She was amazed that she didn’t trip over anything on her way to the stage. She was NOT used to wearing shoes like this or clothes like this. She was strictly a jeans and sweatshirt kind of girl. She got to the bottom of the steps to the stage and Peter Hammond offered his hand and helped her up the stairs to the microphone where Chef Henri was waiting. “Ms. Farnsworth, congratulash-i-ons on being this year’s Donovan Award winner.” He placed the gold medal around her neck and gave her the oversized check and of course did the kissy cheek thing. She would never understand that as long as she lived. A hug and a handshake would suffice, but to the French that was as much a part of their culture as the handshake and hugs were of ours. The crowd erupted again and she saw her beloved Jordan taking pictures with a smile so broad that it put Peter’s to shame! Chef Henri moved to the side and gestured for her to be center stage. “Oh my God! I am honestly speechless! There are so many wonderful chefs in this room. Jose and Dickie congratulations to you both. It was such an honor to compete with you.” Ginger turned, nodded and placed her free hand over her heart. “To the judges and Chef Henri, merci.” She bowed. ”Thank you so much for your confidence in my abilities. I love food. I love the smell of it, the texture of it, the way I can mold it the way I want it. You all know pastry is my first love, my favorite, and I love serving my customers what I feel are the very best pastries in all of Acorn Hills.” Applause erupted again. “This award means so much to me. I have entered so many competitions and this” she picked up the medal in her free hand and choked back tears. “This is the frosting on the cake, so to speak.” The judges and other competitors chuckled at her pun. “When I was in high school Home Economics I decided that I wanted to do something with my life passion; food. Little did I know that it would take me to Chef Henri’s school in Dordogne, France. Ultimately what I learned there enabled me to open my own little catering shop and bakery.” “Jordan, love of my life,” she blew him a kiss. “I thank you so much for believing in me and loving me through all of this because I certainly could not have done it without you.” Ginger continued to hold her medal. “Again, thank you so much for this great honor.” She nodded her head to the audience and cheers erupted as they stood in appreciation of her hard work. And, right on cue, the music began signaling the end of the ceremony. Tears were coming down her cheeks now, damn it. She tried so hard to not let that happen. Jose and Dickie and Peter and Chef Henri all hugged her. The judges made their way over to her with their congratulations. The photographer for “Just Pastries”, one of the major sponsors of the competition, was barking orders for the judges to get in line and Ginger to get in the center and Chef Henri to be on one side of her and Peter Hammond to be on the other side of her so the larger-than-life-sized check was stretched out between them with her in the middle. And, Jordan, smiling and standing like a proud peacock winked and blew her a kiss. She smiled and the photographer snapped the picture. The story would be on page one of the Acorn Hills Chronicle tomorrow, not to mention her phone would not stop ringing and people would be lined up around the block to taste her pastries. Life cannot get much better than this she thought. Jordan met her at the bottom of the stage steps. “Well, pumpkin, you did it.” He picked her up and twirled in a circle with her in his arms. “I am so stinkin’ proud of you!” He kissed her and continued to hold on to her. She wrapped her arms around Jordan’s neck and just savored the moment. Her cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The adrenaline was still flowing from the excitement she felt from winning. The possibilities were swimming in her head of what to do with the money. During the photo session, the “worker bees” had moved the tables and chairs into a more dance friendly set up. The DJ was busy setting things on what had been the head table up on the stage. Ginger was ready to “par-tay”, as David would say. She wished David and Denise could be here to share this with them. Jordan put her down and she immediately took off her heels. If she was going to dance the rest of the evening away, she was going to be comfortable. She grabbed Jordan’s hand and headed back to one of the tables and put her shoes on a chair then dragged him out to the already crowded dance floor just as Kool and the Gang began singing “Celebrate Good Times, C’mon!” This truly was “good times”. It was a night she would remember for a very long time. Jordan had spoken to the DJ while she was finishing up the photos. They were both accomplished ballroom dancers (classes they decided to take to spend time together) and he wanted Ginger to really enjoy the night more with a special dance, just for them. After the current selection ended, the lights dimmed and the first notes of “Rainbow Connection” began. It was Ginger’s all-time favorite song. Tears welled up in her eyes again as Jordan bowed to his lovely lady. How he loved this creature! She was glowing; the lighting made her skin flawless, her auburn curls framing her face and cascading over her shoulders, the strapless copper sequin-covered mermaid gown hugging her full figure. Jordan took Ginger’s hand and led her in a foxtrot around the dance floor. Everyone stepped aside as they watched the couple glide around the room. Ginger was smiling so much her cheeks hurt. Jordan knew her so well…he always knew what she needed even before she knew! Their dance ended with a beautiful twirl and dip with Jordan bending over and kissing her before standing her back up. The crowd erupted with shouts of appreciation for the true art they’d just witnessed. “Oh, Jordan,” Ginger began. “This is incredible. All of it!” She placed her hand on his cheek and looked lovingly into his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for being the man in my life. Thank you for sharing all the bad stuff and the good stuff.” She threw her arms around his neck and just stood there swaying, hugging him. “I do love you so much,” she whispered in his ear. Another familiar tune began but she was oblivious to what was going on. She was just in her own little moment. She was amazed at the accomplishments she had achieved. She had “come into her own” as the old adage said, and she was going to relish every moment of it.
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