Cooking Roach

by Bucking Nonsense


Recipe Five: Fast Food

"You cannot possibly be serious!"
Rochelle did not flinch when the pony in front of her began shouting. Tilting her head to one side, she asked, making certain that her voice remained neutral, "You have a problem with a changeling taking part in this contest?"
The changeling stood in a waiting room with the other chefs who were preparing to take part in the 'Ultimate Chef Competition'. While there were several ponies, there was also a griffin, a naga, and even a minotaur taking part as well. Apparently, being a pony was not a prerequisite. However, one of the chefs, a tall, dark earth pony with a close cropped black mane, seemed to take offense at her taking part in the competition...
The earth pony chef in question, his name tag announcing him to be named Blackberry Trifle, declared, "Of course I do! You have a lot of nerve, waltzing in here after what you lot pulled last year. I'm surprised that they didn't just throw you out on your flank."
Rochelle huffed, and then said, "Well, there was some talk about that, but Her Royal Tallness was on hoof to say that I had her permission to be here."
Trifle raised an eyebrow, then said, "Her Royal... wait, you mean Princess Celestia?"
Smiling, Rochelle asked, "You know anypony taller?"
With a chuckle, the stallion admitted, "No, I suppose I don't." His expression turned serious as he said, "If the princess says that you have her permission to be here, I could not possibly gainsay her. If she were to say that you were a law abiding citizen, I would not argue with her, either." With something approaching a glare, Trifle said, "However, do not think that, if she said you were a chef, that makes you a chef. She is the ruler of the nation, but even she bows before the knowledge and experience of her head chef when she walks into the palace kitchens. You might be able to cook. You might even be able to cook well... but there is much more to being a chef than that."
Times like this made Rochelle wish she had eyebrows in her default state. She really wanted to be able to raise one right now. "Well, I will keep that in mind. I don't have any illusions about my cooking skills. I'm here because I'm doing a favor for some nice folks who are doing a solid favor for me and my little girl. I don't imagine I'll win..." She took a deep breath, then continued, her expression much more determined, "But don't think for a second I won't give it my best."
Smiling, perhaps in spite of himself, the chef said, "Well, nopony can ask for more than that. We'll see how well you do." With a shrug, Blackberry Trifle turned around, and walked off.
A moment, one of the other pony competitors said, "I'd recommend watching your step around him."
Rochelle turned and looked at the speaker. If there was ever a generic gourmet pony chef, this was the pony whose looks would fit the bill. Later that day, Rochelle would have been difficulty remembering what color his coat was, let alone what his name was.
The overly generic chef said, "That was Blackberry Trifle, Princess Celestia's personal chef. He's won this competition five years running. If he wins this one, it'll be a new world record. Not to mention the fact that he's the head of the Equestrian Gourmet Society. If he wasn't one of the competitors this year, he'd definitely be one of the judges."
"I'll keep that in mind," Rochelle said, her expression carefully neutral. Inside, however, she was near panic. Celestia's personal chef? Here? The changeling had understood that this wasn't called the 'Ultimate Chef Competition' just because it sounded impressive, but she'd not fully realized just how big a deal this was going to be... until now. This was the big leagues, and she'd not even been in the minors yet...
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Four hours earlier...
"Rochelle, I really do appreciate you volunteering for this," Silver Tongue said gratefully, as the pony finished filling out the paperwork for her entry into the competition.
As the changeling began tying on her apron, she said, "It's no big deal. I can't help but feel a little bit responsible about this whole situation. I mean, I didn't have to resolve matters so... dramatically. I let my temper get the better of me." Rochelle had faced a lot of situations over the last year were her temper had flared, but she'd kept her cool. However, when Candy Floss, or even Nuisance, had been put at serious risk because of one pony's grudge...
The gray pegasus said, "It's an incredibly big deal. The Ultimate Chef Competition is one of the biggest cooking competitions in the world. There will be ponies and other creatures from all across the world competing today. Don't be surprised if you end up seeing somepony, or somebeastie, who's world famous, or personally cooks for royalty. The competition will be fierce, and while it certainly isn't important that you win, it is critical that you do your absolute best. To do otherwise would... well, it wouldn't look good, either for you or for me."
If Rochelle had visible pupils, she would have rolled her eyes. "You'll get my best, Mister Silver. I definitely won't embarrass you today."
Turning in the completed form, Silver Tongue nodded, then said with a smile, "I know you won't. Come and see me after this is all over. I have something that I want to talk to you about."
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Fifteen hours before that...
"She has the potential to be a great chef."
Silver Tongue looked up at Princess Celestia, who had just whispered into his ear, right after Rochelle had volunteered to be his entry into the contest tomorrow. The princess nodded, confirming that he had heard her right. Silver gave that some serious thought. Rochelle may or may not be a great chef one day, but since she'd no longer be caring for Nuisance, she'd never have another reason to cook again. However, if she was given a chance to cook for others, and found out how her cooking compared to other great cooks in Equestria, and the rest of the world, then she might be given reason to continue on that path...
Turning to Rochelle, Silver Tongue said, "Alright. I'll give you a shot. Be here bright and early tomorrow morning, and we'll see if you can manage it."
He just hoped that the pressure of the competition tomorrow didn't get to her...
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Now...
Rochelle had spent a year mastering self-control, which was the only reason she wasn't screaming in absolute panic right now. This was bad. This was really, incredibly, absurdly bad. She was so confident earlier today that this would be something she could just walk in and do without any problems. Now she knew, without a doubt, that she had made the biggest mistake in her life: she was going to embarrass herself, her best friend's family (and by extension, her best friend), and changelings the world over. What was she thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...
She stood in a line with the other contestants, as they waited for the judges for the competition to arrive in the grand hall. The contest proper was to take place here in the royal palace in Canterlot. There would be a speech, followed by a list of rules for the competition, then they'd be allowed to gather ingredients and begin cooking. They'd be given four hours to complete their meals and turn them in for judging. The standards by which the meal would be judged would be discussed shortly, and while some of them remained constant (flavor, presentation, simple things like that), there were other factors that would be unique to this contest, and even a few that would remain secret until the judging began.
Finally, the judges had assembled. There were only three this year: A griffin, a minotaur, and an earth pony. While the griffin and the minotaur looked, at most, in their forties, the pony was old, with a long, white beard. It was the pony who approached to give the speech.
"The world of cuisine," the elderly pony began, "is an ever-changing place. New trade routes open, new ingredients are discovered, and even new ways to prepare even the most basic meals can be discovered in as little as one year's time. For that reason, the rules of this competition change annually. If one sticks simply to the same recipes, then the delicious meals of today quickly become bland and unpalatable. Variety, as some say, is the spice of life."
That matched what Rochelle knew about cooking: Nuisance might eat the same food two days in a row, if it was especially good, but she'd never tolerate it three times in the same week...
"The ultimate chef, however, is not the one who can create the best meal. Any cook can, with sufficient talent, time, and patience, create a delicious meal for all to enjoy. No, there is far more to being a chef than just the quality of their meal. You would all do well to remember that, whether you win today or not."
Clearing his throat, the oldster said, "With that said, I shall now announce the rules of today's competition. This year, the theme of your entries will be 'The Perfect Meal'. You may pursue whatever dish you feel meets that standard. Bear in mind, however, you will be asked to explain in what way your meal meets that standard. Your meal may have as little as a single item, or as many as time allows you to cook. Please remember, however, that there is a time constraint, so don't try to give us the Ib'Xian Imperial Feast." Here, the elderly pony gave a small chuckle.
Rochelle nearly laughed herself: Silver Tongue had mentioned that, decades before, a chef tried to win the competition by cooking the legendary meal, which took a total of three days and nights to prepare, and contained over three hundred rare delicacies. At that time, the meals were supposed to be sampled simultaneously, and any of his competitors would have had their own entries spoil, go cold, or melt, depending on what was cooked. However, since the chef ultimately couldn't justify how his meal met that year's standard, he was disqualified. After that, a strict time limit was imposed, as well as a rule that the competitors could turn in their meal for tasting as soon as it was ready.
"The meal you serve will be judged on three basic criteria: Flavor, Presentation, and Creativity. Please keep in mind," And here, the pony cleared his throat, then continued, "even if your meal gets top marks in two of those three categories, a poor showing in the third will, without a doubt, cost you dearly."
"Finally, each of you will be observed over the course of this contest, and your actions will be evaluated. You will be judged, based upon your behavior, on three very critical criteria. In order to ensure that your behavior is honest and genuine, those criteria will not be named until all of your dishes have been presented. However, I will say this: If you act in a manner befitting a true chef, you will have nothing to fear."
Gesturing towards the doorway behind him, the elderly pony said, "And with that said, the preliminaries are over. The ingredients are just beyond this door, and the kitchens are a little ways further in. You have four hours. You may begin now."
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Rochelle had half-expected a frantic rush into the next room, but instead, the chefs moved into the area beyond slowly, and calmly. Possibly, that was because they were all trying to think on what their entry into the contest should be like she was. Seriously, they were wanting 'The Perfect Meal'? And they were expecting her to be able to explain why she felt it was 'perfect'? Rochelle, who had no taste buds whatsoever?
Rochelle was so lost in thought that she didn't see the ingredients available until she was almost to the pile. In truth, it was the massive shadow that the ingredients cast which caused her to look up. When she did, her eyes widened in shock. Some ponies would have said that the stack of food before her was enormous, or titanic, or stupendous. However, Rochelle was a changeling, so there was only one thing that she could say...
With a disgusted snort, Rochelle said, "Typical."
Blackberry Trifle, who was standing, surprisingly, right beside her, turned a questioning eye towards the changeling and asked, "The ingredients don't meet with your approval?"
Looking at the massive stack of fruits, vegetables, and more, Rochelle said, "The ingredients themselves? No. The quantity? Yes."
With a disbelieving expression, Trifle asked, "Not enough for you?"
"No," Rochelle said, annoyed, "There's enough here to make a meal to rival the Ib'Xian Imperial Feast. That's the problem." At the stallion's continued look of disbelief, Rochelle sighed, then said, "I don't think you'd get it unless I explained it to you, in detail. It's a changeling thing."
Glaring at the excessive number of ingredients, an idea came to Rochelle. It was so simple, yet so obvious. It was an epiphany, or a perhaps a moment of clarity. Maybe both. Who can say? However, she now had an answer to the question of the day: What would make the perfect meal? It was an answer that only a changeling would come up with, but it was still valid, right? And she had just the recipes in mind to make it happen.
Picking ingredients out of the pile, Rochelle said, "Well, there's only four hours, minus about three minutes, to get things ready. I can explain it to you when we've both finished our entries, if you're interested."
Nodding, Blackberry Trifle admitted, "I suppose I am."
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Seventy-five days ago...
Rochelle and Candy Floss were preparing a meal for Nuisance. Griffins moved up to solid foods very quickly, due to the fact that they didn't have to wait for their baby teeth to come in: The little one's beak was more than up to taking apart solids, and the chick was already using it to crack walnuts.
Rochelle, having finished her current task, asked, "Okay, so I've peeled the bananas. What do I do with the peels?"
Candy Floss, with a shrug, said, "You can just throw them away."
Rochelle's jaw dropped, and the expression that the changeling gave the pegasus would not have been more horrified if Candy had said, "Go kick a puppy, then swallow a kitten whole when you're done."
The pegasus, still coming to terms with the fact that Rochelle was a changeling at the time, asked, "What's wrong?"
Rochelle was at a loss for words. She sputtered, tried to get out a coherent explanation, but simply could not. It was like trying to explain why setting fire to orphanages was a bad thing.
Taking a moment to clear her head, the changeling took a deep breath, then said, "Candy, you know I'm a changeling, and I know you're a pony, so we both have radically different upbringings. I know that, in pony terms, you're considered to be good. Very good, in fact, and I cannot help but to agree. But if a changeling ever heard you say that, and they knew nothing about ponies whatsoever, they would consider you the second coming of King Sombra. In fact, they'd think you were ten thousand times worse than King Sombra could ever hope to be."
With a startled expression, Candy Floss asked, "For throwing away a banana peel?"
Rochelle, her expression completely serious, shook her head, then said, "No. For committing the one crime in the books worse than high treason."
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Now...
Rochelle was a blur of activity. While she was very careful of where she stepped so she would not collide with another contestant, and took care to make certain that she did not accidentally harm herself while chopping, cutting, or dicing, she went as fast as she possibly could without burning love. Several of the contestants would look up in surprised as she went by in a blur.
For the average chef, it would have taken close to two hours to complete the meal she had in mind. Rochelle managed it in one quarter of that time: a few of the ingredients had to be cooked over an open flame, and that could not be hurried.
As she pulled the finished product out of the oven, she gestured to one of the judges, and said, "Mine is done."
The elderly pony, raising a great, bushy eyebrow, asked, "Are you certain, young lady? This isn't a race. You won't get bonus points for finishing first."
Chuckling, Rochelle said, "I'm sure. I've gotten good at cooking good food fast. If you work with a fussy eater of a griffin chick pecking at the back of your head, you'll learn how to get things done quickly without sacrificing quality."
This got more than a little bit of laughter from the judges, as well as the contestants. One of the judges, a griffin, giggled good and hard, admitting, "Oh yes, dearie, I've been there. You don't waste time when the little ones get hungry."
Nodding in agreement, the elderly earth pony said, "Indeed. I suppose the proof, as they say, is in the pudding. If you say you are ready, then you are ready. Let's see what you have."
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Seventy-four days ago...
Rochelle had laid down the law yesterday. After explaining why she had been so upset with Candy Floss, the changeling had insisted that Candy find out what could be done with the peels, or else Rochelle would expect the pegasus to eat them, while the changeling watched, and they would not make another recipe containing the fruit again.
Chalk it up to cultural differences, but this was the first time that Rochelle had insisted on anything, and had stated, flat out, that it was either this, or the two were no longer friends. Changelings have very few principles, but that made those principles all the more important.
Candy Floss came in with a list, and after closing the door, said, "Alright. I asked around. Here's what you can do with a banana peel: Shoe polish, teeth whitener, a cure for warts, a relief for itching, silverware polish, a repellant for aphids in the garden, compost, fertilizer for tomatoes, treatment for several skin conditions, and if you boil it in water and then drink the water, then it can serve as an anti-depressant. There might be more, but that's what I found out today."
Rochelle smiled, then said, "Good. Now, you do understand why I insisted on you looking into all of that, right?"
Remembering the hour-long lecture that the changeling had given yesterday, Candy nodded, then said, "I do. I'm sorry about yesterday. I just... well, I guess I never really thought of it like that before. I talked to a foreign exchange student from Sphinxia, and he confirmed what you told me about how precious water is out there. And... well, I remember what my grandma told me about the great famine that struck when she was a kid. Things got pretty ugly before the end. It's just.."
Sighing, Rochelle said, "It's water under the bridge. We were raised in different worlds, that's all. Just remember, next time: Nothing should ever go to waste."
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The judges were now sampling Rochelle's offering, and while their response was restrained, the changeling thought that they were pleased with the results. The meal contained several servings, and as the judges moved through the meal, they began nodding. It seemed they might be getting the overall theme without her having to explain it to them.
At the end, the three judges spoke in whispers, then turned back to Rochelle. "Since the contest is still ongoing," the minotaur said, nodding, "we won't ask for the recipes you've used just yet. However, we do find your overall choice of ingredients for each selection to be very interesting. Each portion of the overall meal contains different parts of each fruit or vegetable used to create them. It would not be wrong to say that your entry uses every last part of each ingredient, except the seeds, but those can be planted, naturally. While we have an idea of what your answer might be, we would still like you to say it aloud, for the record. Why is this the perfect meal?"
"The reason, I think, is one that only a changeling would truly understand," Rochelle admitted, "but I will do my best to explain it. In desert lands, the worst criminals are those who despoil wells, making the water undrinkable. During times of conflict, it is often considered an act of total war, since the perpetrator has ensured that no one can ever live in that region again. Spilling even a small amount of water, on that note, is considered a terrible waste, and terrible fights have been known to break out when a container was broken due to carelessness or reckless behavior. It would not be a terrible exaggeration to say that, in those lands, water is worth its weight in gold. Likewise, in times of famine, wasting food by either refusing to eat it or leaving it to spoil is considered unthinkable. During the great famine seventy years ago, a farmer was given life in prison when, in a bitter rivalry with another farmer, he burned his competitor's grain silo, destroying enough food to feed several hundred ponies. That crime would normally have been punished by fifteen years in prison, at most, since nopony was hurt. Likewise, I can name, off the top of my head, at least fifteen revolutions that came about because the aristocracy ate excessively, yet at the same time, wastefully, while the common citizens were starving. Half of those were within the last century. One of them was only five years ago."
The judges nodded in understanding, although the griffin made a gesture that implied that it would be a good idea to get to the point sooner, rather than later.
"For changelings, love energy is always scarce. Obtaining even a day's worth of love means putting your life at risk, masquerading as another creature and spending time in a region where you will face terrible, painful reprisals if caught. Even if that love is obtained during conquest, which is even riskier, there is always a finite amount obtained, and the next conquest has to be scheduled well within the time allotted. Ponies, and most other creatures, can go a very long amount of time without food, or at least with very little. A changeling cannot go a second without love: we freeze into immobility the instant we go dry, and cannot move again unless more is supplied. We live, or at least, the majority of us have lived, on the very edge of starvation... which is why the crime of wasting love energy without a real, urgent need is considered a crime even worse than high treason. And it is punished the same way."
Clearing her throat, Rochelle stated, "That is why the perfect meal is one that does not waste any part of the ingredients used to make it. Flavor is relative, and a fine meal for one can be indigestible garbage to another. Some are allergic to ingredients that would make a meal truly flavorful. However, a tasty and nutritious meal that makes the utmost use of each ingredient available is something that be appreciated by anyone."
The elderly earth pony chuckled, then with a nod, stated, "Well said, young lady."
Rochelle, steeling herself to ask what she knew would be a difficult question, said, "And on that note, sirs and madam, I have a very important question I need to ask."
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Rochelle began pulling ingredients off of the big pile, and began preparing them for cooking. It hadn't taken much to convince the judges to let her start cooking the ingredients that were not being used, after that little speech. Rochelle had met, yesterday, changelings who worked at orphanages, retirement homes, and other places where excellent food is rare, and would be greatly appreciated. Runners had been sent to let those changelings know that a very large amount of food was going to be coming their way.
Seeing perfectly good food go to waste made Rochelle's chitin itch, and she'd been shocked to hear that arrangements had not been made regarding what was left after the contest. Some of this stuff would go bad within a day, two tops...
Blackberry Trifle had just finished presenting his entry (his idea of a perfect meal was 'one that brings everyone together'. She would love to get that recipe: it had smelled remarkable, and she wanted to hear how he was able to express that in the form of food). As she began chopping up vegetables to go into a stew, she heard somepony clear their throat behind her. She turned, only to see Trifle himself standing there.
The pony looked slightly embarrassed, but stated, in a voice loud enough to be overheard by all, "I heard what you told the judges. While I cannot say that I am a fan of the idea of changelings integrating into Equestrian society, I will say that, like you, I cannot abide good food going to waste. What can I do to help you?"
Keeping her expression carefully neutral, Rochelle said, "Well, I'd say that the best place to start is with the dairy products, and the eggs. Those will spoil very quickly if they're not used. If you know any recipes that will make use of those, start working on them now. Don't throw away anything that's left over: You'd be surprised with how much you can do with even a spare banana peel." Looking back at the pile, Rochelle admitted, "About a quarter of that pile with spoil in the next day or two. Done right, we'll be able to get all of that, and more, cooked and on its way before time is up. Don't worry about making anything super-fancy, just make something good that will feed as many ponies as possible."
Nodding in understanding, Blackberry Trifle went to work.
Fifteen minutes later, one of the other chefs, the minotaur, who had just finished presenting his work to the judges, walked over to the pair as they worked, and asked the same. Then another chef, a unicorn, came up and asked the same question that Blackberry Trifle had. Then another, and another. In the last hour, more than half of the competitors were working together to prepare the bountiful supply of ingredients for consumption. A few had difficulties (the naga, having no limbs, couldn't do much, and would have gotten in the way due to her length, but knew more about how to prepare eggs than just about anyone here, so she was placed in charge of overseeing the distribution and preparation of that particular ingredient), but, asides from those who were using up every last minute in preparation of their dishes, every chef available was working on making meals that would feed, if Rochelle was calculating things right, more than two hundred ponies across the city...
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A bell rang, indicated that the time for preparation was over, and the remaining contestants presented their collected ingredients to the judges. It took the better part of another hour for everything to be judged, but once it was, the judges asked the chefs still hard at work to find a place to pause while the results were read out. Five minutes ready, the chefs were all assembled across one side of the kitchens in a straight line, while the judges stood on the other side.
The griffon spoke first, stating, "The final results for all assembled here will be made available to you after the top three have been announced. I can honestly say that there has not been a single competition in the last decade with an average score this high: All of you have done excellent work, and should be proud of yourselves."
The minotaur spoke next. "The award for third place goes to Serpentina, and her entry. Her theme was based on the idea that the perfect meal was one that could be eaten by anyone, even someone without limbs or teeth."
Rochelle had seen that entry: some sort of egg-shaped creation that had a shell that dissolved in the mouth, spreading the contents across the tongue in a delicious surge of flavor. She'd called it, rather appropriately, 'The Flavor Grenade'. The naga had agreed to give Rochelle the recipe later.
"Second place goes to Steely Gaze, and his entry. The theme," the earth pony said, grinning at the memory, "was based on the idea that the perfect meal was one that was a delight to both the eyes and the tongue."
Steely Gaze, the minotaur, had surprised his entry, a massive confectionery masterpiece: a recreation of Canterlot Palace, in the form of a cake. The detail that the pâtissier had included in his work had stunned the judges, and in terms of presentation alone had outshone every other entry. The fact that he was able to craft such a wonder so quickly spoke volumes of the baker's skill.
Well, that was that, Rochelle guessed. After all, Blackberry Trifle's entry was practically guaranteed to win first place. The changeling had heard the judges' exclamations of delight while she'd been working earlier: if, after a reaction like that, he hadn't won first place, there was something seriously wrong here...
The earth pony judge, smiling, stated, "Finally, for the first time in over a decade, we have a tie for first place." After the surprised hubbub died down, the elderly pony said, "First, there is Blackberry Trifle, and his entry, based on the idea that the perfect meal was one that brings us together."
There was a round of applause from all assembled. This was history in the making: As previously mentioned, this was the pony's sixth straight win. That would make it a world record, and would, according to what Rochelle had heard, place him in the culinary hall of fame for decades to come.
Well, good for him. Whatever he may feel about changelings, Rochelle had to admit that Trifle wasn't a bad guy. Still, it was a little disappointing that she didn't even get into the top three...
"The second winner," the griffin said, smiling as well, "is Rochelle, and her entry, based on the idea that the perfect meal wastes nothing in its creation."
Rochelle's jaw dropped, clearly surprised at this development. How? She was certain that her entry wasn't as delicious as Blackberry Trifle's...
"It does bear a little bit of explanation," the earth pony judge admitted, looking at Rochelle's stupefied expression, with a look of amusement. "In terms of flavor, presentation, and creativity, Blackberry Trifle's entry won high marks across the board. In terms of his personal behavior during the competition, we also found nothing wrong in that regard, asides from the friction between the two of you, Miss Rochelle. Given that he was willing to work with you in spite of his personal feelings overrode that problem, so that it did not have a negative impact on his score."
The griffin judge nodded, then said, "Meanwhile, your own entry had excellent flavor, and in terms of creativity was unmatched. The idea of a meal where every usable part of each ingredient was used to their maximum potential required remarkable skill and forethought to accomplish. Your presentation was not quite as exceptional, which was only to be expected, since we were given to understand you've had no formal training in the culinary arts, but we found it was still more than acceptable. Your presentation would not quite cut the mustard at a royal banquet, but would be regarded as exceptional anywhere else. However, it was in the category of your behavior as a chef where you truly shone."
Gesturing towards the massive pile of ingredients, the minotaur judge announced, "The truth is, what we said earlier in regards to there being no plans regarding the leftover ingredients was a lie. Arrangements had already been made with the kitchen staff in the palace to make certain that this would not go to waste."
The earth pony judge nodded, then said, "A true chef would never let good ingredients spoil. That is a given. The fact that your first thought was to how many ponies could be fed with this food does you credit. The fact that you were willing to use personal connections to ensure that this food would go to where it can do the most good was what ultimately put you in the winner's circle. Rest assured, the arrangements you've made will stand. A great many ponies are going to eat well tonight thanks to you."
Clearing his throat, the earth pony continued, stating with a solemn expression, "It is so easy to forget, while many of us cook for the wealthy and the powerful, that the same ingredients that could feed a king or queen and their court for a day, could easily have been used to feed ponies elsewhere for much longer. Anyone who would be willing to cook a vast banquet for those with wealth and power, but does not spare a thought to those starving outside of that ivory tower, has no right to call themselves a chef. Whether you cook for the ruler of a great nation, or a penniless pauper, you have a duty to make certain that you do your best to make certain that nothing is wasted." With a meaningful glance towards Rochelle, the pony said, "It amazes me that someone who cannot eat food as we understand it, or even taste it, could grasp something so easily, while so many others might have missed it completely, until it was pointed out to them. While you may have been a dark horse entry, so to speak, rest assured that, from today onwards, the culinary society of Equestria, if not the entire world, will be watching your progress with great interest. We will look forward to seeing you here next year."
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There was much rejoicing, as the saying goes, as the competitors slapped each other on the back, and swapped recipes. Blackberry Trifle's entry was... interesting, but it wasn't one Rochelle could expect to duplicate easily. She still had miles to go before she'd be able to even begin working on that one. Still, one day, she hoped she could get that one going. Serpentina's Flavor Grenade was just within her skill level, though...
"Miss Rochelle," Blackberry Trifle said, standing behind her, breaking her out of her reverie. How did he keep doing that? Was he a ninja or something?
Turning, the changeling saw the earth pony standing beside a mare, a child with a definite resemblance to both ponies hugging the stallion's leg. So, it turned out he was married. That was a pity, as Rochelle had a thing for the tall, dark, and handsome type, and Trifle definitely fit the bill.
"I believe that I was more than a little rude to you at the beginning of this competition." The stallion bowed his head low, then said, "I cannot begin to apologize enough for that. Celestia was correct when she said that you had every right to be here, and after your performance today, I can honestly say that if the Princess herself were to say that you were a chef, I could not help but to agree. I intend to compete next year, and try for a seventh consecutive win. If my winning streak is stopped by anyone other than you, I would be sincerely disappointed. With a little polish, I am certain that one day, you would become a better chef than I would ever hope to be." With that, the pony extended a hoof, then added, "Although I hope that will take a few more years to occur."
Rochelle took it and shook it. "Thanks," the changeling said, smiling. "I know how difficult it is for you to say that, and your approval means more to me than I can say. I'll look forward to being here next year."
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"I still can't believe I tied for first place," Rochelle admitted as she rode in a carriage back to her apartment. Celestia rode with them, as did Candy Floss and Silver Tongue.
Candy, grinning, said, "Well, you had a great teacher, so I knew you had it in you." Candy Floss, naturally, had taught Rochelle everything she knew about cooking. Who had taught Candy? Sweet Dream, her aunt. Rochelle had been shocked to hear, just a moment ago, that Sweet Dream, before she had married Silver Tongue, had been a gourmet chef herself, and had won the Ultimate Chef Competition five years running. Rochelle was definitely going to have a talk with Candy Floss later about her family, among other things. You simply cannot know somepony for a year and know so little about them...
Celestia chuckled, then said, "Well, I thought you had potential, Rochelle. I'm glad you had an opportunity to let it shine. I'm sorry I wasn't there to see your victory, but I fear I've had a busy morning."
Saffron Spice had, in exchange for a royal pardon for his actions, given the name of the pony that had supplied him with the experimental insect repellant that had nearly put Candy Floss in the hospital, in addition to the names of as many ponies as he knew that had taken part in similar operations to discredit changelings in Canterlot and beyond. A few of those arrests had required Celestia's personal appearance. Some of the names Saffron had provided had been surprising, and one had been heartbreaking: a trusted aide, who had been hoof-picked to lead the Bureau of Changeling Affairs once the Changeling Protection Act had passed, had turned out to be the ringleader of the group. Like Silver Tongue said yesterday, 'Just when you think you know a pony'...
Still, Celestia had indicated that she had a feeling that the best pony for the job would appear. It was just a matter of time...
Silver Tongue cleared his throat, and once certain that Rochelle had his attention, said, "Given how well you did today, Rochelle, I cannot help but ask you if you'd be interested in honing your cooking skills further. You've definitely proven that you have talent. I own several restaurants here in town, and would be more than happy to take you on. I have a staff filled with experienced chefs who would be more than happy to teach you everything you will need to know. You'll need all the help you can get: Now that Blackberry Trifle knows that you're his equal right now, he'll be certain to push himself to new heights to make certain that next year, there will be a clear winner between the two of you."
Rochelle gave the idea some thought. She was still slightly ambivalent on Celestia and Luna's invitation to pony-dom, but she did admit that she was leaning heavily towards becoming a full-fledged pony in one year's time. That would mean, of course, that she'd have to begin buying food like ponies do, which would mean that if she didn't have a paying job, she'd starve. She'd need to build up a nest egg so that she wouldn't have to worry about any problems while she adjusted to that transition. Moreover, given that she'd discovered that she wasn't just a good chef, or even a great chef, but a spectacular one, she found that she rather liked the idea of improving her skills further. She was certain that it would be a long, hard road...
...But the idea of being the first changeling, former or otherwise, to be known as the undisputed ultimate chef had a certain appeal.
"Alright," she said, grinning, "You've talked me into it. When can I start?"