“To our millions of viewers all over the world and our studio audience: Welcome Gourmets and Gourmands!”
Cameras panned the arena, zooming in on some of the frenzied foodies.
After a little clever banter, he got down to business. “The Eighth Annual
Gourmet Gladiators Tournament
is a two-day event. Today’s presentation will be freestyle, with each of our famous chefs creating their signature dish. Tomorrow, however, the four chefs face the ultimate challenge. They must create individual masterpieces using the mandatory ingredients. Those ingredients, ladies and gentlemen, have been kept secret until this very moment.”
A pretty girl draped in a miniscule golden toga sashayed across the stage and passed him an envelope. He waved it with a flourish, showing front and back to the audience and then dramatically broke the seal. “On day two of this extravaganza, our competitors will work with...” the orchestra played a fanfare, “...a medley of three sea foods, chef’s choice of Alaska king crab, Great Lakes sturgeon, Australian eel, Maine lobster or Gulf prawns.”
Images of the featured fish flashed across the Jumbotron screen behind Cranston.
“Our distinguished judges will sample all the delicacies and award points in six categories: taste, presentation, originality, creative use of ingredients, theme and nutritional value. The chef with the highest overall combined score for the two days will be decreed this year’s Greatest Gourmet Gladiator. Let us welcome our panel of experts.”
The five gourmet guests entered, escorted by a very attractive hostess who ushered them to an elaborately carved banquet table set with silver goblets and impressive matching candelabra. Each one was seated in an ornate chair with leather upholstery and lion heads carved on the arms.
The emcee waved his arm in a grand gesture. “First, Lulu Lavelle.” The camera zoomed in on a beautiful woman of indeterminate age. “Those of you who are mesmerized by Lulu on the big screen...and, who isn’t...may not know that she is highly qualified in the world of judging competitive cuisine. Lulu has just completed a two-week course at the Cordon Bleu in Paris.” Applause rumbled through the audience as the camera panned the scene. The actress raised one bejeweled hand in a salute to her admirers.
“Next, it is our great pleasure to welcome Justin Tyme, financier, captain of industry and master of the barbeque grill.” Justin mugged for the camera, clearly not as comfortable with it as Lulu. The response from the spectators was polite.
“Returning for the third consecutive year is Forrest Forsythe, founder and owner of Forsythe’s Famous Fish Restaurants now in forty-two states, with the latest opening in Walla Walla, Washington. In your programs, you will find a certificate for a free Fish Fandango platter.” The fisheries king was met by a thunderous ovation as he stood up and opened his arms to the crowd.
“We are honored to welcome our fourth judge, Dr. Arrup Gupta, the esteemed author of the best selling cookbook
You Are What You Eat
. Dr. Gupta’s enlightened theories on nutrition have taken the country by storm.”
Here the impressive looking doctor, clad in a stiff white Nehru collared jacket, held his hands in a tent and made a modest bow, while showing a perfect row of gleaming white teeth. The audience responded by returning the respectful bow, collective fingertips touching.
“And finally, we are fortunate to have with us today Madeline Mandingo, editor of
Food Magazine
. Her credentials speak loud and clear.” She waved her arms in a sort of cheerleading gesture, her sequined dress catching the spotlight. This was met with a wave, similar to those seen at sporting events that undulated around the bleacher seats several times before petering out. Godiva glared at Goldie who was waving along with the “common” crowd.
“And, we also welcome several special guests in our VIP audience today.” Cranston Hollingsworth ran through the names of at least a dozen Hollywood personalities. “And, last, but, by no means least, ladies and gentlemen let’s hear it for America’s favorite new advice columnist, G.O.D.” Unexpectedly the camera panned back and forth from Godiva to Goldie who both flashed surprised and nervous smiles.
Hollingsworth feigned total confusion, full well knowing that the twin in the dark purple was Godiva. “Wait a minute...which one of these lovely women is G.O.D.?” Judging from the applause, the audience chose Goldie!
Just then, the orchestra burst forth with the “Pot Boiler Polka.”
Cranston’s smooth voice swelled through the room once again. “Now entering the coliseum is the world renowned Polish Cajun, Toulouse Jankowski.”
Jankowski, wearing a waist-length spangled orange chef’s jacket with pink and red plaid lapels, pink trousers with red polka dots and matching orange suspenders, danced down the aisle in time with the peppy tune. The orchestra picked up the pace and Toulouse strutted his stuff.
Trailing behind him were two assistants with dark curly hair, strands and strands of Mardi Gras beads, low-cut peasant blouses and swirling skirts. A roar arose from one section of the audience and the cameras panned his fans who were waving banners and flags in support of the Polish Cajun chef as he passed by. The girls tossed their beads toward the cheering section and fights broke out as competing spectators forgot for a moment that they were not in the French Quarter. Toulouse proceeded to Cooking Station #1 at the opposite end of the coliseum.
“And now, every ‘foodie’s’ favorite bodybuilder, Aerobic Chef Biff Wellington, and his lovely assistant, Candy Vanderloop.”
Biff and Candy jogged down the aisle, in time with the vigorous music, and paused to face directly into the cameras with broad, confident smiles. Biff swept his astonished assistant off her feet and raised her above his head like a barbell. The orchestra broke into “Candy, I call my baby Candy,” and everyone went crazy.
Cranston Hollingsworth strained to kick it up a notch as he announced Moishe Matsumoto, but the crowd was still going wild over Biff and the delicious Candy.
Moishe’s two Japanese assistants, wearing colorful Geisha style ensembles, burst into the arena dancing the horah to the lilting strains of “Hava Negila”, their colorful outfits whirling and twirling as they kicked to the beat of the music. With as much bravado as he could muster, Matsumoto made his entrance behind the girls, firing up his cheering section of imported East Coast devotees who rose from their seats waving flags decorated with a Blue Star of David set into the full circle of a red rising sun. Despite his smile for the fans, the set of his shoulders told his challengers that he was not happy to be third in line.
Traditionally, the reigning Gourmet Gladiator was the last to enter. The room began to buzz. Rumor had it that Romano’s entrance would be spectacular, but the audience was not prepared for what followed.
The last strains of Moishe’s theme song, “Sukiyaki” faded away and the band struck up the overture to
Chariots of Fire
. All heads turned to the entrance as Romano and Chili rode into view in a real chariot pulled by a magnificent white horse.
Goldie whispered to Godiva, “Did you know about this?”
Godiva shook her head.
Hollingsworth could hardly be heard over the din of the audience. “Welcome, Chef Caesar Romano...charming assistant Chili Pepper...”
Chili, sworn to secrecy, hadn’t even shared the flamboyant addition of horse and chariot with her family.
A green laurel wreath crowned Romano’s wavy black hair. Steel gray temples lent an air of sophistication. He wore a toga embellished with a trim of golden ribbon. Around his neck was the coveted medallion.
“I can’t believe this,” Goldie whispered to her sister. “Grown people acting like this over cooking.”
“I’m amazed, myself,” Godiva replied. “He was wearing a bathrobe when I went in to wish him luck. I thought he would wear something normal, something elegant—certainly not a toga. But, you know, he does have pretty good legs.”
“Oh, Godiva, look at my little Chili. She looks like a Grecian Goddess. Red and Belle are going to be so proud of her. They’re watching this on cable, you know.”
Chili’s red curls were swept up into an elaborate coiffure cascading from a golden band. She wore a short and very sexy outfit similar to the ones worn by cocktail waitresses at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas.
Whistles and cheers punctuated the long ovation as they stepped down from the chariot and walked to the fourth cooking station. They made their bows as the horse and chariot were led out of the arena. Goldie held her breath, praying silently that the horse would not leave a deposit behind.
All of the chefs and their assistants were in place now. Goldie sighed in relief as she saw Ivan the Terrible settle in just behind the Aerobic Chef, his massive arms folded across his chest. She watched the monitor as a camera zoomed in on Biff Wellington right after Romano’s glitzy entrance. The emperor of exercise loomed dark and menacing over his pots and pans, like a storm cloud ready to burst.
CHAPTER 25
Cranston Hollingsworth’s voice filled the indoor coliseum. “At Station One, Toulouse Jankowski preparing a main course of Alligator Goulash with Plantain Pirogues followed by Mardi Gras Meringues.”
“At Station Two, Biff Wellington whipping up his famous HeartBeet Salad and Roulade of Free Range Chicken in a whole grain pastry served on a bed of organically grown spinach
.
For
dessert, Tofu Truffles with Spirulina Sprinkles.” The Aerobic Chef’s chiseled face dominated the huge TV screen.
“And here we are at Station Three.” Hollingsworth gestured as applause rose from the New York cheering section. “Moishe Matsumoto creating his internationally famous Brisket and Tofu Sukiyaki with an appetizer of Gefilte Fish Sushi and dessert of Seaweed Sponge cake.”
“And last but not least,” the velvet voice rose over a drum roll, “at Station Four Caesar Romano is preparing
Saltimbocca Romana
accompanied by
Maccaroncelli Ala Quinetiere
with a dessert of Pears Filled with Ricotta Mousse.”
After camera one zoomed in on each chef, camera two panned the judges’ table capturing their reactions. “Gentlemen, set your timers! Let the magic begin! After your presentation, judges will taste the samples in the order of the cooking stations one, two, three
and...four.
”
For better than an hour, the arena buzzed with activity as the chefs and their assistants bustled about preparing their dishes. The orchestra kept the tempo upbeat. Jankowski’s assistants whipped off their ruffled skirts revealing spangled shorts that made for easier movement. The Japanese girls, clearly not dressed for the kitchen, also threw off their full-sleeved kimonos and, in skimpy sarongs, bowed first to Matsumoto and then to the audience.
Cranston Hollingsworth kept up a play-by-play commentary interrupted occasionally by an excited off-camera announcer shouting clichés like, “Spatulas are spinning today”, or “Did you ever see such a clever cleaver?”
A couple of cameras zoomed in on beauty shots of the preparations and one cameraman was actually standing on a table behind Moishe Matsumoto. He shot from above as the King of Kosher Sushi created garnishes of little six-point stars and rising suns made from pickled ginger and whitefish to add to his platter. The third announcer, “color man” A.J. Carson, Dean of the Carson College of Cuisine, shared bits of culinary knowledge with the audience and viewers.
“See that odd shaped utensil Chef Jankowski is using,” said A.J. “It’s an old fashioned gadget used to take the strings out of celery stalks.” The gigantic image of a complex doodad filled the big screen. Godiva showed no interest at all when Goldie poked her with an elbow and whispered enthusiastically, “Wow. Isn’t that neat? I have one of those in the shop and didn’t know what it was.”
The audience broke into raucous cheers as the four famous contenders sprinted around their kitchens. Lovely assistants mopped their brows while the chefs feverishly chopped, sautéed, braised and baked their way to the finish of the first round.
Caught up in the campy hoopla, Godiva cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered to Goldie, “Holy shit, Sis, this is Ringling Brothers Circus meets World Wrestling Federation in the Galleria Food Court. What a hoot!”
The pretty girl who had seated the judges now brought them samples of the dishes. An appropriate wine was offered between each sampling to cleanse the palate and separate the assorted ingredients and tastes.
Unfortunately, dishes were tasted in the order of the cooking stations. By the time the judges got to Romano’s masterpiece, the United Nations was battling it out in their digestive tracts and some of them had also sampled a bit too much wine.
Lulu Lavelle giggled uncontrollably after each commentary. Justin Tyme looked like the Gefilte Fish Sushi was more than he could stomach and was barely able to manage a bite of Romano’s
Maccaroncelli Ala Quinetiere
. As Goldie watched the food close up on the big screen she said to Godiva, “It looks just like macaroni and cheese to me.”
Forrest Forsythe, a teetotaler, went into raptures over Romano’s dish, but didn’t have the same glowing commentary for the other three. By the time the Seaweed Sponge cake was delivered to Madeline Mandingo, her indulgence of the excellent wines had caused her to slide halfway off her leather seat. She was clutching the lion head arms just to keep her chin level with the table.
Dr. Arrup Gupta sampled tidbits of all the foods he normally shunned with the greatest aplomb as his complexion gradually turned from café au lait to green turtle soup.
Cranston Hollingsworth stepped into the spotlight once again. One by one he read the judges’ votes. Three of them gave Romano points off because of what they called a strange aftertaste they couldn’t identify.
Godiva tried to read the expression on Romano’s face. Did he seem angry or was he just perplexed?
Hollingsworth, who was a loyal Romano fan, seemed stunned. In fact he didn’t quite manage to hide his disappointment as he announced the leader at the end of Day One. “By a slender one vote margin, Biff Wellington, the Aerobic Chef is in the lead.”