Read Online The Icing on the Cake by Deborah A. Levine - Free Book Online

Jacqueline!”
    Wait. Hold up. Chef may be charming, but our very own who ? Jacqueline? As in, my mom?
    Everyone looks at Mom, smiling and clapping.
    Shyly, she stands up. “Hello, hello,” she says, waving them off. “I am not an expert. But my granny taught me some killer Southern pies, and Chef asked me to share one with you all—or ‘y’all,’ as Granny would say.”
    OMG, my mom is doing stand-up. I try to stare her down—why didn’t she tell me she was going be Chef’s “special guest” today?—but I can’t get herattention. Instead, she just keeps looking at Chef, shaking her head, and grinning.
    Chef Antonio is practically bouncing with excitement now. “Okay, amigos ? Bueno. Let us begin because we have much to do and never ever enough time. We are all going to make crust together, and it will be, as I said, perfecto . Then, this table over here”—he waves at one of the cooking stations—“will make a filled pie.” He points to another one. “This table over here will make a two-crust apple pie, and the last table will start from scratch and make a graham-cracker crust with a key-lime filling. When we are all finished, my hope is that you will see that pie crust is nothing to be afraid of, and making it is as easy as . . . you know it . . . PIE!”
    Everyone laughs, of course. Everyone except the “special guest’s” daughter, a.k.a. me.
    â€œSo, todo el mundo —everyone—please choose your table so we may begin!”
    Some people seem really sure about what kind ofpie they want to make. I stay in my seat, arms crossed, waiting to see what my mom thinks she’s doing. Aren’t we supposed to be taking this class together?
    *  *  *
    Errol and Henry head immediately to the one-crust pie, which is where Mom is standing. She smiles and laughs at something one of them says about Southern ladies and their pie. If I were in a better mood, I would ask her which of Granny Fran’s mouthwatering pies we’re talking about, but I’m not.
    Tristan looks at his uncle, shrugs, and then heads over to the graham-cracker table. Following Tristan like a puppy, Frankie immediately ditches her mom, who joins mine, joking that the fewer crusts for her to ruin the better.
    Dr. Wong and Lillian head to the apple-pie table with the Newlyweds. I can tell Lillian is looking around to see where Javier will go, but he’s busy over at a work table cutting up butter that’s been chilling in a bowl of ice for Chef Antonio. Lilliankind of trails along behind her mother, sneaking peeks at Javi every couple of seconds. If he did actually decide to choose a table right now, would she actually desert her mom and follow him? I can picture Dr. Wong’s reaction to that, and it definitely wouldn’t make Lillian feel less embarrassed!
    I can feel Frankie’s eyes boring a hole in my back, trying to get me to join her and Tristan at the graham-cracker table for moral support. I don’t feel like watching her “accidentally” spill flour on his shirt or offer to show him how to properly demolish a graham cracker, so I decide to go to Mom’s table after all.
    â€œ Sí, sí, sí. Bueno. Everybody all set?” Chef asks, taking a quick scan of the room. He spies Javier, who seems to be finished with the butter and is now just standing around wadding up towels. “No, not quite. Javi, why don’t you join us?” Javier’s always sort of hovering, like he can’t decide whether to jump in or sneak away. He’s caught now, though, so he shuffles over to the graham-cracker crew.
    â€œThe key to pie crust, amigos , is not to overdo it, not to overhandle it,” Chef tells us. “If you do, it will be tough—leathery and chewy instead of light, feathery, and delicious! It’s all about activating the gluten in the