Christmas Canapés & Sabotage: a Culinary Competition Mysteries holiday short story by Janel Gradowski Page A
Authors: Janel Gradowski
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Amy shook off the sour grapes comment and walked into the main restaurant area. The space was decorated for the holidays in the same white, light blue, silver, and sparkles theme as the tree in the entrance. Swags of pine boughs arced from the crown molding, and wreathes were hung on the white paneled walls. Flickering candles, housed in opaque white glass cylinders, sat in the center of the round dining tables. In the corner of the room, Bea Perkins waved to get Amy's attention. When had Amy made it across the labyrinth of tables, the owner of The Breakfast Spot pointed to an empty chair. "I saved you a seat."
"Thank you for choosing a spot far away from the door," Amy said as she shrugged off her long, cream-colored wool coat and draped it over the back of the chair. "The poor women that are checking people in. I hope they wore long underwear."
"Old Man Winter can ease up any time now. It isn't even Christmas, and I'm tired of the deep freeze. I think the girl who handed me my registration packet had blue fingernails, and the color wasn't from nail polish." Bea leaned closer as Amy sat down. Her pink rhinestone nose stud sparkled as she shook her head. "I don't want to catch any of the breeze from outside either, but the real reason I snagged this table is so we can check out the buffet."
Amy nodded in appreciation of her friend's tactics. Ignorance was not bliss in cooking contests. It was always a good thing to know what and who you were up against. Bea had positioned them perfectly to check out the work of one of the competition's judges, the chef of Halo. The brunch buffet was bountiful and beautiful. The chef knew how to set up a gorgeous food display and could possibly be a harsh judge. The tables lined up in front of the restaurant's wall of French doors were crammed in a rolling landscape of skewered mini breakfast sandwiches, small bowls full of glistening fruit salads, and miniature muffins studded with chunks of chocolate. The theme for the Holiday Celebrations Competition was Finger Foods Fantasy. By presenting each brunch dish in two-bite individual portions, instead of in the more common, self-serve giant metal pans, the chef of Halo was quite effectively saying, "Game on! Show me what you've got." Amy didn't know about anybody else, but she was more than ready to compete. The prize money for placing well would pay for a lot of very nice presents for her friends and family.
Soon the dining room was filled with the sounds of conversations and silverware clattering on plates. As Amy nibbled on a triangle of French toast filled with sweet cream cheese and dried currants, she eavesdropped on some of the conversations around her. Almost everybody was impressed with how pretty and tasty all of the items were. She wondered how many people were contemplating altering their recipes. Not a good idea considering the samples that were to be judged for taste needed to be turned in just over twenty-four hours later.
Once all of the competitors had filled their plates, the event coordinator, the director of the Presents For Kids charity that would benefit from the event, took her place behind the podium at the front of the room. Bridget Mahoney's red dress with a flared skirt and tiny rhinestones around the scoop neckline was elegant yet festive. A fashion concept that Rayshelle could use some help understanding. The clown-haired crank was sitting a few tables away and had garnered raised eyebrows from many people as they shuffled around her on the way to the buffet line. Her leopard-print gold lamé pantsuit looked like it came from a clearance rack, circa 1985, at the lingerie store where Rayshelle worked. Apparently the horrific outfit came with a force field, since no one else had dared sit at the table set for six. People snatched chairs and place settings to wedge themselves into friendlier tables.
Amy multi-tasked by listening to the schedule of events and trying to figure out what spices had been used
Amy shook off the sour grapes comment and walked into the main restaurant area. The space was decorated for the holidays in the same white, light blue, silver, and sparkles theme as the tree in the entrance. Swags of pine boughs arced from the crown molding, and wreathes were hung on the white paneled walls. Flickering candles, housed in opaque white glass cylinders, sat in the center of the round dining tables. In the corner of the room, Bea Perkins waved to get Amy's attention. When had Amy made it across the labyrinth of tables, the owner of The Breakfast Spot pointed to an empty chair. "I saved you a seat."
"Thank you for choosing a spot far away from the door," Amy said as she shrugged off her long, cream-colored wool coat and draped it over the back of the chair. "The poor women that are checking people in. I hope they wore long underwear."
"Old Man Winter can ease up any time now. It isn't even Christmas, and I'm tired of the deep freeze. I think the girl who handed me my registration packet had blue fingernails, and the color wasn't from nail polish." Bea leaned closer as Amy sat down. Her pink rhinestone nose stud sparkled as she shook her head. "I don't want to catch any of the breeze from outside either, but the real reason I snagged this table is so we can check out the buffet."
Amy nodded in appreciation of her friend's tactics. Ignorance was not bliss in cooking contests. It was always a good thing to know what and who you were up against. Bea had positioned them perfectly to check out the work of one of the competition's judges, the chef of Halo. The brunch buffet was bountiful and beautiful. The chef knew how to set up a gorgeous food display and could possibly be a harsh judge. The tables lined up in front of the restaurant's wall of French doors were crammed in a rolling landscape of skewered mini breakfast sandwiches, small bowls full of glistening fruit salads, and miniature muffins studded with chunks of chocolate. The theme for the Holiday Celebrations Competition was Finger Foods Fantasy. By presenting each brunch dish in two-bite individual portions, instead of in the more common, self-serve giant metal pans, the chef of Halo was quite effectively saying, "Game on! Show me what you've got." Amy didn't know about anybody else, but she was more than ready to compete. The prize money for placing well would pay for a lot of very nice presents for her friends and family.
Soon the dining room was filled with the sounds of conversations and silverware clattering on plates. As Amy nibbled on a triangle of French toast filled with sweet cream cheese and dried currants, she eavesdropped on some of the conversations around her. Almost everybody was impressed with how pretty and tasty all of the items were. She wondered how many people were contemplating altering their recipes. Not a good idea considering the samples that were to be judged for taste needed to be turned in just over twenty-four hours later.
Once all of the competitors had filled their plates, the event coordinator, the director of the Presents For Kids charity that would benefit from the event, took her place behind the podium at the front of the room. Bridget Mahoney's red dress with a flared skirt and tiny rhinestones around the scoop neckline was elegant yet festive. A fashion concept that Rayshelle could use some help understanding. The clown-haired crank was sitting a few tables away and had garnered raised eyebrows from many people as they shuffled around her on the way to the buffet line. Her leopard-print gold lamé pantsuit looked like it came from a clearance rack, circa 1985, at the lingerie store where Rayshelle worked. Apparently the horrific outfit came with a force field, since no one else had dared sit at the table set for six. People snatched chairs and place settings to wedge themselves into friendlier tables.
Amy multi-tasked by listening to the schedule of events and trying to figure out what spices had been used
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