Page 96 of The Alpha and the Baker
Finally, it was our turn. The three judges looked down at Felicia’s beautiful cookies, all smiles and laughter. I definitely got the impression that this wasn’t some overwrought affair for them, as the three of them were quite friendly and made no effort to hide their interest. That was a relief, as their levity forced the rest of us to lighten up a little.
“Don’t these look decadent?” one of them said, an older lady with blue hair and dressed-up like a red gingham picnic table. I couldn’t help but think that she andAbuelitaRamirez would make quite a fashionable pair if they stood next to each other.
“Thank you,” Felicia said. “These are my German chocolate cake cookie sandwiches with royal icing.”
Back before I met Felicia, I hadn’t known there were so many different icing types that each had specific purposes. Now, I still didn’t know many of them, but at least I was aware of just how little I actually knew.
“Don’t mind if I do, then,” another judge said. He was a flamboyant, middle-aged man whose electric pink shirt made me want to put on a pair of sunglasses—it was so bright to my enhanced vision.
“Thank you for your efforts,” the third, a severe-looking, older judge said, her smile thin as she peered over her thick glasses.
They took bites of their cookies.
If I thought waiting for them to approach our team was torture, then watching them chew and trying to study every single micro-expression that crossed their features was pure agony. It took mere seconds, and yet it felt like an eternity, and I couldn’t decide if I was beginning to like the exhilaration of being in a baking contest or if I hated the whole process and never wanted to be involved in one again.
I supposed I should withhold my judgment until I’d participated in one that didn’t have the threat of fairy punishment hanging over my head if I lost.
Because that was a pretty influencing factor.
“Oh, these are just as decadent as I thought they would be. Moist, but a lovely balance of flavors,” the first judge said, her hand in front of her mouth as she took another bite. I hadnoproblem with her talking with her mouth full if we were gettinggood critique. “Honestly, I’d prefer to have these cookies with a glass of milk since they are so rich, but otherwise, absolutely divine! Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” Felicia said simply, offering her hand, which the first judge shook. “I appreciate the kind feedback.”
“I agree on the richness,” the male judge said, wiping at the corners of his mouth with a ruby-red silk kerchief. “But honestly, Iloveit. It’s sweet, but not cloying so. I swear I can taste browned butter, and it just adds this lovely depth of flavor that stops it from being too much.”
He could tell all that? And what the hell was browned butter? Was there food coloring involved? More than ever, I resolved to become much more active in the kitchen. After all, my job as an alpha was to provide, and that included making delicious meals for my partner.
And the more I saw how Felicia worked under pressure, the more certain I was that it had to be her. She really was a person unto herself, and she made me want to be better in so many ways. I knew there were complications that arose from interspecies relationships, but I didn’t care. Whatever they were, I was sure it was worth it.
“All right, judges, how about our last group for round one?”
I glanced over at the Ramirezes. Their cookies were rainbow-colored and had sprinkles. I had a feeling they were deceptively simple, however, and had to fight not to hold my breath.
The process was just as excruciating as ours had been, and I had to admit that I was disappointed to still see smiles all around. Damn. I knew it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would bomb any of the rounds, but still… I’d hoped there might be a misstep or two.
“Oh these have such a lovely snap to them! They’re to die for.”
Sal glanced over to me as he smiled. “Maybe they are.”
Cheeky. Very cheeky.
“I’m surprised you actually flavored each colored part of the cookies differently. I would have thought so many different tastes in one small item would be too much, but it’s incredibly balanced!”
It was the severe judge who surprised me the most. “I have to admit, I’m biased toward anything with sprinkles. Little specks of joy, I like to call them.”
And then she let out a giggle—an actual giggle—and I was reminded to never judge a book by its cover. Sure, she dressed like she was a villainous governess from a 1940s sitcom, but sometimes the love of sprinkles was universal.
“All right, everyone!” the announcer said in, and although I knew he needed the megaphone for the human crowd, it was beginning to make my ears ache. “That’s a wrap on round one! Our judges will deliberate while we invite everyone with taster tickets to form an orderly line to help themselves to the extras! We also have a comment box where you can leave your own feedback for the contestants. Pleaselegiblywrite out what you ate from which team and what you liked about it. Just so you know, these comments are screened beforehand, so anything inappropriate will not be reaching our contestants! We do like to protect our community here, and that includes from trolls.”
Huh, that was nice. And probably a lot of extra effort. I hoped they didn’t get much hate speech, insults, or threats of violence, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Contestants, you are welcome to do your final preparations for round two, which will be starting in about ten minutes after we announce the winner of round one!”
Ten minutes wasn’t a lot of time to deliberate, but I was glad it wouldn’t take any longer than that. Even with speedy judging times, the bake-off was scheduled to run until five, meaning we’d have had a twelve-hour day. Man, those nuns had endurance,that was for sure. I hoped I was that sturdy when I was the equivalent of their age.
The main bakers and cooks of our team headed back to the tent while Chris and I handed out cookies to those in line. It was actually quite pleasant. Everyone was kind and had something positive to say, even the young humans.
We ended up running out before everyone got one, and the announcer was again using his megaphone to say that everyone who hadn’t gotten anything from round one would be first in the taster’s line for the next one.
