(Morcster Chef Book 2) - Chapter 89 (Patreon)

The crowd cheered at her words. She let them go for a moment, then raised a hand. Almost instantly, everyone grew quiet. Arek couldn’t help but be impressed at her control over the crowd. It almost felt like magic.

“We will be rating food on a scale from one to ten, where ten is as close as a normal chef can get to Gernon’s food, and a one is… well, I think we all know that,” Betsy said. “In order to win, your average score must be an eight or higher. Our first category will be the texture!”

The judges leaned in and chatted amongst themselves as another murmur ran through the crowd. After a minute, the broke back up and turned back to Betsy.

“We’ve come to a decision,” the pudgy man said. “With Gernon’s food as a comparison, we believe the challenger’s meal is a seven in texture. It was incredibly soft and buttery, but there wasn’t quite enough variation in it.”

Arek nodded to himself. Their words matched what Gernon had said, so they didn’t surprise him.

“I agree with your assessment,” Betsy said, nodding. “A seven! Not a bad start for the challenger. A seven is a respectable number indeed, but it won’t get you a win. Let’s see if our contestant can pull things back with the next category: the execution of the meal!”

This discussion was considerably shorter than the last. After only a few words, the same man cleared his throat. “We believe this is a ten. There was no discernable difference between Gernon and the challenger’s technique execution. It was not over or undercooked, and it is clear that this dish turned out exactly how the chef wanted it to.”

Excited chattering started up in the crowd as Arek’s average rose above eight. The buzz of the crowd started to get to Arek as well. It was difficult to remain calm with so many people watching his every move, although he couldn’t tell if they were cheering with or against him.

“The next category is appearance,” Betsy declared. “While it might not be the most important category, something visually appealing can greatly enhance your experience eating. Let’s see what the judges think of our challenger’s meal!”

This decision took the judges considerably longer. Arek pressed his lips together. He didn’t need the judges to know that Gernon had completely outclassed him in appearance. The brilliant, speckled orange of the other chef’s sauce was incomparable to Arek’s meal.

“We’ve come to a conclusion. I don’t think it surprises anyone that Gernon’s meal was incredibly visually stunning. The sauce was, for lack of a better term, beautiful. The challenger’s meal, however, was not bad in looks. The chicken was beautifully browned, and the butter made it glisten in a very appetizing manner. For that manner, we actually believe that this meal is a seven.”

The chattering grew even louder. Arek couldn’t keep the surprised expression from his face. He’d expected a six at best, which would have meant that winning the competition would have likely been borderline impossible. But, with a seven, he still had a chance.

Arek spotted someone at the back of the crowd waving at him aggressively. He squinted, a laugh reaching his lips as he spotted Ming standing on Belmont’s shoulders, flailing her arms around in the air to catch his attention. When Ming realized that she had the orc’s attention, she gave him two thumbs up.

“There’s only one section left, folks!” Betsy called, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. She paused to let some excitement build up, then threw her arms into the air theatrically. “It’s time for the final, and most important, category! How does the flavor of the challenger’s meal compare to Gernon’s?”

This time, even Betsy couldn’t keep the noise of the crowd down. The judges muttered back and forth, their conversation growing heated as they started to enunciate their points with aggressive hand motions.

It was the longest that they’d taken to come to a conclusion yet. Betsy stepped over and joined them, quickly getting drawn into what was clearly becoming a heated argument. It took nearly ten minutes before Betsy raised a hand.

The crowd took a moment to quiet. She lowered her hand and turned in a slow circle, looking everyone she could in the eye to build tension. “This has been the first cook-off that Gernon has fought in a long time. I think we can all agree that it was a hard fought battle, can we not?”

People roared in response.

“But, as all things, a conclusion must be reached! This last rating will determine if our challenger’s meal is worthy to stand up to Gernon’s. His current average score is eight, which means he needs a score of eight or higher to win.”

“Just tell us the score already!” someone yelled.

Betsy smirked. “Don’t be so impatient. Maybe I’ll just keep them to myself.”

People yelled at her in annoyance and Gernon let out a booming laugh. “I’m antsy myself, Betsy. Tell us the score.”

“Fine,” Betsy said, pouting. She turned to Arek, her expression growing serious. “The judges have decided that your dish was rather simple. Its flavor profile was rather limited. However, the flavors that you did attempt went very well. When compared to Gernon’s dish… the challenger’s gets the rating of eight!”

The crowd let out a deafening cheer and Gernon grabbed Arek’s hand, thrusting it into the air. He slapped Arek on the back with his other hand, giving the orc a wide grin. “Congratulations!”

Arek nearly staggered from the blow. He adjusted his chef’s hat, slightly in disbelief. From the way Betsy had been describing the meal, he’d been certain that Gernon had defeated him. “Thank you. So, do I get to learn that dish you made?”

“Straight to business with you, huh?” Gernon asked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Enjoy the moment. You’re young. You don’t get to live things like this out every day.”

“You can’t be much older than I am,” Arek yelled over the roar of the crowd. Gernon just quirked an eyebrow and shrugged in response.