11 THE FUTURE OF FOOD

On Saturday morning, Piper set her alarm for six. But at five-thirty on the dot, her eyes popped open and she flew out of bed. After a quick shower, she pulled on the loose navy blue pants and pale yellow top Zahra had helped her pick out for her big day. Then she wrestled her hair into braids and, using green pipe cleaners for support, twisted the braids into two lopsided buns, one on each side of her head. Her hair reminded Piper of rainbow cinnamon buns—Zahra had promised the silly and whimsical design would help her look the part of creative chef.

No matter what she looked like, she felt comfortable, confident, and one hundred percent Piper. She was ready to take on The Future of Food.

Contestants had been told to arrive at the studio by nine. Her parents were both coming early with her. Finley and Dan were going to ride to the studio with Milla’s mom so they wouldn’t have to sit around all morning waiting for the filmed portion of the competition to begin. Piper was excited to have some alone time with her parents. In a family of five, that didn’t happen very often.

Milla called a few minutes after seven to wish her luck and remind her that they would all be cheering for her. “I don’t know if we’ll get to see you before filming starts,” Milla said. “So just pretend we’re all giving you big hugs before you go onstage, okay?” Piper was grateful to have such great friends.

As Piper and her parents drove to the set, the three of them chatted about nothing in particular. It was obvious her parents were both trying to keep Piper’s mind off the competition, and she was grateful for the distraction. Still, the drive felt like it took forever—but they pulled into the parking lot at ten minutes to nine.

Piper was grabbing the car door handle when her mom reached into the backseat and placed a hand on Piper’s leg. “Can I just say how proud we are of you?” she said. “You’re going to be fantastic today.”

“Thanks,” Piper said, smiling. “I’m proud of me, too.”

Her parents laughed. “You are really something, Piper,” her dad added, twisting around to face her in the backseat. “Fearless, smart, and confident. That’s quite a combination. I’m not sure where you got your kitchen and science smarts, but it’s always fun watching you do your thing.”

“For real?” Piper said. “But it’s just food science. It’s not like this is a soccer tournament, or a math competition, or one of Finley’s supercute dance recitals.”

“It’s not just food science!” her mom said, a strange look flashing across her face. “What you do in the kitchen is amazing, Piper. I hope you know we both really admire your creativity. And what you do at Helping Hands, not to mention the way you contribute with our family dinners, is really cool.”

“But…,” Piper said, looking from her mom to her dad. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s easier for you guys to be proud of Dan and Finley. I mean, Dan wins all those trophies, prizes, and certificates. And Finley is, well, Finley. I’m just the boring, nonathletic, not-so-smart leftover.”

“Oh, Piper,” her mom said, shaking her head. “That’s not what you think, is it?”

“Sorta,” Piper confessed. “I really want to win today so I finally have proof that I’m the best at something, too. Sometimes, I feel like all I ever do is make a huge mess of things.”

“That could not be further from the truth,” her dad said firmly. “One of the things I love most about you is that you forge your own path. You question things, you look at problems differently than other people, and you solve them in your own way. You’re the best at being you.

“I am certainly good at that,” Piper agreed. Then she frowned. “But what if I don’t win today? The ten thousand dollars—”

“You can’t think about that,” her mom said.

“But…,” Piper began. “But don’t we need the money so Dad doesn’t have to take that job in Chicago?”

Her parents glanced at each other. “What job in Chicago?” her dad asked.

“You were interviewing with that company you do work for in Chicago, right? For a full-time gig?”

“I’ve been talking about doing more work for them, yes,” her dad said. “They did offer me a full-time position, but I told them I can only consider it if it’s a work-from-home position.”

“So then we wouldn’t move to Chicago?” Piper asked hopefully.

“No one’s moving to Chicago,” her mom said. “My job is here, your school is here, your friends are here. But your dad is going to pick up more work no matter what.”

“I’m bored,” her dad said, shrugging. “I’ve been a busy stay-at-home dad for years, and without any of you hanging around during the day, I’m going a little crazy. I want to work more.”

“Even if I win ten thousand dollars?”

Her dad nodded. “I’m looking for more work because I like to be busy, and I miss working full-time. I know it will change some things, but I want to challenge myself. And just to be clear, if you win ten thousand dollars, that’s your ten thousand dollars—to save for college.”

“If I don’t win, is college off the table?” Piper asked, tilting her head.

“No,” her mom said. “And this is not the time to have that discussion. It’s time for us to go inside.” She patted Piper’s knee. “Are you ready to show the Kitchen Wizard who’s going to rule the future of food?”

Piper hopped out of the car. “I sure am.”


When the three Andelmans stepped inside the enormous warehouse set, a tall, thin woman holding a clipboard rushed over to them. “Welcome!” the lady said. “I’m Lydia, one of the production assistants. You must be Piper?”

Piper nodded. She could feel the buns on each side of her head bobbing along. Somehow, because the buns had been Zahra’s idea, it almost felt as if Zahra were standing and nodding beside her—and that made her feel a little less nervous. “Piper Andelman,” she said, thrusting her hand toward Lydia.

“We’re excited to have you on the show today—your audition video was super fun, and we love your creative spark,” Lydia said, shaking Piper’s hand. “I’m going to show you around the set, give you some time to check out your workstation, then walk you through your schedule. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Piper said. From where she stood, she could see hundreds of lights set up around an industrial kitchen set. There were dozens of official-looking people bustling around. Piper craned her neck, trying to spot the other contestants.

Squinting, she gazed across the room. She noticed someone wearing chef whites on the far side of the set. The man’s handlebar mustache had been waxed into two delicate curlicues over his top lip, and his face was immediately recognizable. “Is that…,” she began, looking to Lydia for confirmation, “Arlo VanDries?”

Lydia smiled. “Sure is. His son is one of the other contestants on today’s episode.”

Piper gulped. “Arlo VanDries has a son? And I’m competing against him?”

Piper’s mom looked at her with a questioning look. “Who is Arlo VanDries?”

Piper sighed. “Only the executive chef of Arlo’s Bistro.”

“That fancy French restaurant?” her mom said in a voice that was not at all reassuring. “Like, Arlo of Arlo’s Bistro?”

“That’s the one,” Piper answered. She had spent some time the previous summer researching local chefs. Mr. VanDries was the most famous of the bunch. He had been trained by big-name chefs in New York City and spent several years learning even more about French cooking in the south of France. He had won awards! Surely his son knew a few—or a few million—things about cooking. “I’m competing against Arlo VanDries’s kid,” she said quietly. “Who else am I up against?”

“It’s a good mix today. You all come from very different backgrounds, which will make for a fun show.” Lydia glanced down at her clipboard. “Today we’ve got Jack VanDries, Frankie Catapano, and you. You’ll get to meet them when you go into makeup.”

The name Frankie Catapano sounded familiar. As soon as she realized why, Piper’s eyes widened. “Frankie of Frankie’s FancyCakes?” she asked, hoping she was wrong. “The YouTube star?”

“The one and only,” Lydia said with a smile. “Her cake-decorating skills are incredible, aren’t they?”

Piper squeaked in agreement. Though she’d known she would be competing against some great chefs, the thought of going up against a YouTube star (whose videos she had been following for over a year!) and a famous chef’s son made her stomach clench with nerves. How could she possibly beat either one of them? Was it too late to back out?

“You’re going to adore both contestants,” Lydia said reassuringly. “Don’t let anyone’s fame or background intimidate you. And remember that you deserve to be here just as much as anyone.”

“Uh-huh,” Piper said, gulping.

Lydia patted her on the back and guided her toward the kitchen. “Just try to have fun with today’s challenge, and don’t be afraid to take some chances. That’s what the Kitchen Wizard and today’s guest judge will love to see more than anything.”

Piper nodded, but she couldn’t help wondering what she’d been thinking when she’d sent in her audition video. Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on Lydia’s advice, which aligned perfectly with Ms. Bancroft’s wise words from the previous afternoon. She had to remember to have fun while she was here. It wasn’t only about winning; it was about the experience.

Surely she could learn a few things from her competitors. She smiled as another thought popped into her head: maybe her competitors could learn a few things from her, too. “Yep,” she told Lydia, her smile widening. “I’m ready to have some serious fun.”