I spent lunch today reading this book my mom gave me called The Joy of Cooking. After last night’s dinner disaster, I thought I’d be kicked off kitchen duty, but my mom says every cook makes mistakes, especially at the beginning, and the only way to learn is to try, try again.
Actually, my mom was pretty nice about me ruining dinner. The only thing that made her mad was me wearing Lyle’s shirt. She was a little bit irritated because I got spaghetti sauce on it, and slightly more irritated that I’d spent eight bucks on the sauce in the first place, but she was super mad because wearing oversize clothing—especially a big shirt with long sleeves—in the kitchen is dangerous.
“Safety in the lab is a scientist’s number one priority,” she told me. “So tomorrow night, wear a T-shirt.”
At lunch, I was reading the chapter called “Know Your Ingredients” when Ben practically skidded into the chair next to me.
“Fantastizoid news, Mac!” he exclaimed, smacking a piece of paper on top of my book. “Your great cooking experiment could not come at a better time! Just look at this contest we’re going to win!”
I glanced at the piece of paper, which looked like it had been torn out of a magazine. THE COOKING CHANNEL’S FIRST ANNUAL RECIPE CONTEST! the headline shouted up at me in superbright yellow letters. ENTER AND WIN $10,000, PLUS A BRAND-NEW KITCHEN!
“What do I need a brand-new kitchen for?” I asked, pushing the announcement back toward Ben. “I’ve already got a kitchen.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s not the kitchen we’re after, Mac. It’s the money! Ten thousand buckaroos! We’ll split it fifty-fifty and each still have a load of dough. Me, I’m using my half to go to Hawaii and learn how to surf.”
Ben’s big dream has always been to be a rock star surfboarder. Well, his big big dream is to be a famous cartoonist, and he thinks surfing is a part of the cartoonist lifestyle.
I have no idea where he comes up with this stuff.
“Okay, so the money would be nice,” I said. “The only problem is, I’m just learning how to cook, and you don’t know how to cook at all. So how are we supposed to come up with some award-winning recipe?”
“We’ll spend this weekend having a Cooking Channel marathon at my apartment,” Ben said, sounding confident. “We’ll pick up all sorts of useful information, some good cooking tips and what have you, and by Sunday we’ll figure out a great recipe. According to the announcement, we have to e-mail our recipe, preferably with pics of the finished product, by Monday, April 8. That gives us two and a half weeks.”
Suddenly, there was a loud popping noise to my left. I turned and saw Aretha popping her pencil against the table. At our school, fourth-grade boys and girls don’t sit together at lunch, even when they’re fellow scientists. If you do, people will automatically start calling you boyfriend and girlfriend.
I try to avoid that at all costs, and so does Aretha. So what we usually do at lunch is sit at tables next to each other, in case we have any important scientific information to share.
Aretha had her Girl Scout Handbook open in front of her, but she was looking straight at me. “Two weeks isn’t much time, Mac. The good news is you’re in luck. I’ve just started working on a cooking badge, and helping you would help me.”
“But I don’t really know how to cook,” I repeated. “I think it would help to know how to actually cook stuff if I wanted to make up my own recipe.”
“Yeah, which is where my great idea comes in,” Aretha said. “See, I’ve got to do this unit on eggs to get my badge. My dad’s going to teach me how to cook eggs on Saturday, and it would be a lot more fun if you and Ben were there. I bet my dad would give us all kinds of helpful cooking hints. Plus, I’ve got to make up an egg recipe and come up with a food science project. So we can brainstorm together. Three brains are better than one.” She glanced at Ben. “Or two brains. Whatever.”
Aretha started packing up her lunch bag. “The thing about coming up with recipes is, you don’t have to be totally original. Think of something you really love to eat, and then imagine ways you could make it better.”
“Right!” Ben exclaimed. “Like me, personally, I love a banana–peanut butter smoothie. And you know what would make that even more better? Bacon. See! I’m a genius! We’ve got this contest in the bag.”
“You think you’re going to win with a banana, peanut butter, and bacon smoothie?” I asked.
“You think I should throw some strawberry jelly in there too?”
Aretha and I looked at each other. Then we looked at Ben.
Then we both yelled “No!” so loud that everybody in the cafeteria turned around and looked at us.
Ben shrugged. “It was just an idea.”
“So what are you going to cook for dinner tonight, Mac?” Aretha asked, closing her Girl Scout Handbook. It was almost time to go out to the playground for recess.
“My mom said maybe I should try something simple, like homemade waffles. Which would be good, since we’ve got all the ingredients.”
“I love breakfast for dinner!” Ben said. “As long as you still get real dessert, that is.”
I lugged The Joy of Cooking out with me to the playground. I was pretending it was a chemistry textbook, which it sort of was, although it probably had more oatmeal cookie recipes than your average chemistry textbook. While Ben went to play soccer with a bunch of third graders, I sat down on the stairs by the door and got back to reading about ingredients.
It was actually a lot more interesting than you might think.
For instance, I learned that yeast cells reproduce really fast if you give them some warm water and sugar. It turns out that water and sugar are to yeast what chocolate-chip ice cream is to human beings.
While the cells are growing and reproducing, they produce these things called enzymes. When I looked this up in the dictionary later, I learned that enzymes are catalysts for chemical reactions. In other words, enzymes are the movers and shakers of the chemical world. The enzymes produced by the yeast convert starch into sugar. The yeast eats the sugar and then produces carbon dioxide gas, and that’s what makes the dough get all puffy.
To put it another way, it’s kind of like the yeast ate a bunch of junk food and farted.
But in a good way.
I was just starting to get into the section on baking powder and biscuits when a shadow fell over the page. I looked up and saw Evan Forbes. As always, he was wearing red Chucks, a gray hoodie, and a blue-and-red-striped T-shirt. It was sort of his uniform. He kicked up some dust with one of his Chucks and sneered at me.
I knew that whatever happened next, it would not be good.
I’ve never understood kids like Evan Forbes. For one thing, it seems like he lives to make other kids unhappy. For another thing, he never does his homework. Just today, Mrs. Tuttle dismissed us for lunch but told Evan to wait. I was the last one out of the classroom, so I overheard her say, “I’m going to have to call your parents, Evan. This is the third time this week you haven’t turned in your math assignment.”