Chương 159: The Rules of the Final

On the day of the final, the whole of Paris boiled. The competition venue — a magnificent building converted out of a nineteenth-century iron market hall — didn't have an empty seat in it. Gastronomes, critics, reporters and fanatical amateurs had come from everywhere on earth, and between them they'd pushed the room to its pitch. Backstage, in the American team's room, it was unusually calm.

Chris, Ethan and Kira had changed into the chef's whites with the Stars and Stripes on them and were making their last preparations. Chris sat with his eyes closed, running the menu sequence again and again. Ethan was checking his tools; every one of them polished to a shine. Kira was touching the precious ingredients she'd brought with her fingertips, lightly, the way you'd say goodbye to an old friend. Everything that could be prepared had been prepared. What was left was waiting.

At nine exactly the door opened and the league chairman — that revered legend of French cooking — came in with several officials behind him. Arthur Campbell, England's captain, came in after them.

"Gentlemen. Miss." There was a grave smile on the chairman's face.

"Congratulations on reaching the end. Today, here, you will give the cooking world a final of finals." Chris and Arthur nodded at the same moment.

"Before we begin, I must announce this year's special rules for the final." The words lifted every heart in the room off the floor. Arthur's warning had been real. The chairman took an envelope from an assistant, opened it, and drew out a card.

"To test both teams across the full range of their abilities, this final will not be decided by a traditional three-course menu." He cleared his throat, and announced it in a tone that permitted no argument.

"The final will run in three stages across three days. We call it the Three-Day War." The Three-Day War? All three of them froze. Everything they had prepared was built for one competition inside three hours. This change, arriving out of nowhere, tore their whole deployment apart. Chris glanced at Arthur without meaning to. The man's face was as unrippled as ever — as though he had known all of this a long time ago. This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

The chairman went on.

"Day one, today. The theme of the first round is: Homage to the Classics."

"The committee has selected three of the most representative legendary dishes in the history of cooking. Both teams will have three hours to replicate all three perfectly. This round tests your understanding of tradition, and the most basic and most solid technical foundations you have." Ethan's face went bad instantly. Perfect replication? That was the single thing England did better than anyone alive. The first round had been cut to their measurements. The chairman ignored the reaction and read on.

"Day two. The theme of the second round is: The Future Kitchen."

"The committee will supply you with a range of future ingredients still at laboratory stage — cultured meat, 3D-printed vegetables, insect protein, and others. You may use any of the advanced equipment on the floor. There are no recipes in this round and no restrictions. It tests your imagination, your creativity, and your grasp of where cooking is going." That put a line between Kira's brows. What she did was listen to the voice of natural ingredients.

These synthetic things, as far as she could see, had no soul to speak of. The chairman turned the card over.

"Day three, the last round. The theme is: The Ultimate Banquet."

"The five judges of this final will no longer taste as a single body. You will build one dish for each judge individually, made to their nationality, their background, their preferences — and their character. Which means on the last day you must produce five completely different dishes simultaneously, while still expressing the overall style of your team."

"This round tests your insight, your capacity for empathy, and team collaboration at the highest level." When he finished, the room was dead quiet. The format was insane. It was also terrifying. Round one was England's home ground. Round two tested control over unnatural ingredients — an enormous challenge for the Americans as well. And round three, five bespoke dishes for five judges with five different temperaments, was hell-grade in difficulty and complexity.

It required not only technique and invention at the top of the range but the insight of a working psychologist. Three rounds, each one raising the stakes, each one a chasm with no bridge over it.

"The three rounds are scored separately. The first two each produce a winner, but their scores are not carried into the final day."

"The championship itself will be decided directly by the combined score of the five dishes in the third round, the Ultimate Banquet." The chairman put the card away and looked at both teams.

"The rules have been announced. Will both captains come forward to draw the dishes for round one." Chris drew a breath and came out of the shock. This was not the hour to panic. He glanced at Ethan and Kira; both faces were heavy with it. He stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Arthur. An assistant brought out a tray with a red cloth over it. Chris and Arthur looked at each other. In those ice-blue eyes Chris caught something almost undetectable: the light of a man who already had it.

And he understood. Arthur had known the rules of the final in advance, through some channel or other. That was why he'd been so certain. That was why he'd said he hoped their story would be equal to it. In the information war, they had lost before it started. Now all they could do was walk out, heads down, onto a battlefield that had been laid out carefully for the other side.