Chapter 4 - beating out the competition

One evening after another typiucal Bosnian dinner, I watched televion with my grandmother. She was always bringing me new treats as snacks, but that night we were watching the local equivalent of Food Network and talking about how much my cooking had improved since arriving. A show came on titled, "Who Can Cook?" which would place contestants against each other for a variety of culinary challenges. On the spot I decided this was my opportunity to make a name for myself in the local food scene. Sounded like try-outs would happen two villages over the next afternoon!

Excited for the opportunity, I was surprised that only a few dozen people wanted to be on television. Apparently this was a reflection of a modest culture. Looking around it was clear that everyone else looked much like me---even though I was by far the skinniest girl in the room. I guess people in the mountains love their food! The first steo was an interview where they took our photos, measured our vitals and then asked us about our life story. As the day progressed we had a series of tasks and ultimately they selected three contestants for the show. There was me, Jazzy and Jon. I'd guess Jazzy was about six feet tall and a little less than 300 pounds. John was about the height of my neighbor, but perhaps a soft hundred pounds heavier.

Filming was the following day, with the three of us preparing three meals. We each had to prepare two plates: one would be shared by the judges and the other we'd get to enjoy. The competition was intense, but I had a secret weapon: I was trained to cook far more items than the typical rural villager. For breakfast I made grande burritos with eggs, bacon, steak, pico de gallo and more. They were an epic surprise hit with the judges. For lunch I made hamburgers like my dad made back at home: a pound plus of beef with bacon and cheese mixed in, fried in butter and with all the toppings. For the final round I decided to make a traditional Bosnian dinner just like my grandmother makes it. All three meals were tasty, although honestly by the end of the day my pants were barely straining to contain my solid belly. We were all brought to the back and given bathing suits to wear for the final announcement.

I thought that this was a little wierd, but I was the cute skinny one so why not? We stood on three podiums as we waited for the judges to make an announcement. Little did I know that my height and weight was being displayed right above my head. Apparently ppints were given for taste, portion size and how much weight each of the chefs had put on during the show. The judes made a pronouncement: John stepped on the scale which read 188 kg, for a gain of 1.7 kgs; he smiled and raised his arms to flex them. His cute belly jiggled with this sweaty effort. At 300.2 kg Jazzy had put on just over a kilo since breakfast. I looked at the woman as she started crying in fear of how this would affect her final score. I walked over and gve her a tissue. The judges said it was my time. With anxiety they wen to a commercial brake as lights went dark in the studio. A tense few minutes later the break was over and it was time for their announcement. At 68 kgs I had gained 2.1 kgs since breakfast! I slapped my still full tummy and just glowed with the results. Another commercial brake happened and then final scores were announced. Although Jazzy won the overall cooking competition by one point, John and I were tied for second. Then the final tally was announced: I won by two points!

A few days later the show aired, and everyone in the village was super proud of me. The following day I received a phone call from someone who had a slight accent. Th person wanted me to apply for an elite culinary role! Thinking that this might be my big chance to make the opportunity happen, I had an interview the next day. Guess what? They offered me a job on the spot, conditional on my move to an unidentified Asian country. Although I'd miss everyone in the village, indeed this was why I embarked on the project in the first place. Next stop? Pyongyang!