AN: I have a new fic out, it's only being updated every other day, but if you're interested, check out JJK Seven Sinful Curses.
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Without a precise candy thermometer, there was no way to track the syrup's exact temperature, which was a problem. If the sugar got too hot, it would start to caramelize, ruining the color and the texture for what I needed, 'Which means I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way.'
After a quick prayer that the pot wouldn't instantly burn the moment my eyes left it, I rumaged around the kitchen until I found where the utensils were stored. I grabbed a handful before filling up a bowl with water and ice.
Rushing back to the stove, I stared into the pot and found that the sugar had thickened slightly but was otherwise unchanged. 'Alright, let's see how many tries this takes.'
Picking up a spoon from the pile of metal silverware, I dipped it into the syrup before dunking it into the ice bath, only for the syrup to dissolve and slip off, 'More than one apparently.'
"Don't tell me your dessert is going to involve edible utensils?"
I looked up to find Lois standing on the other side of the counter with the camera panning over to get us both in the shot.
"No, that would be a much cooler idea than what I'm actually doing," I replied while dipping another utensil into the pot and then chilling it in the ice, "Right now I'm trying to make sure my sugar gets hot enough to candy, but not so hot that it turns into caramel. Normally this would be done with a candy thermometer, but I'm improvising at the moment."
"Oh, a little last-minute change to get the edge over your rival?" Lois prompted with an eager smile.
"No, I fucked up and overcooked my cheesecake, so now I'm trying to fix it with something overly complex with no guarantee it's going to turn out the way I want it to," I replied to Lois' question with brutal honesty as I dipped another sugar-coated utensil into the ice bath. Pulling out the fork, I stared at the glossy, crystal clear coating covering the metal tines, "Or I might be an actual genius and win this thing in a landslide."
"Well then, we'll leave you to it, and we can't wait to see what you whip up."
Lois said her goodbyes, but I wasn't really listening, too focused on turning down the burner to its lowest setting before opening the oven and taking out my lemon peels. Prodding one with a finger, the fruit had been dehydrated, not to the level of a freeze dryer, but enough to have a decent texture instead of being horrendously chewy.
'That'll have to do,' I thought with a slight resignation, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.
Taking a heavy chef's knife to the peel, I cut them into small strips, ending up with a small mountain. Then, in batches, I lowered the strips into the sugar using a fine-mesh strainer to make sure none slipped through. And once the excess sugar dripped off, I dunked the strainer right into the ice bath.
Inspecting the finished project, the lemon strips shone in the light, but appearance was only one part of the equation. Plucking one out, I tossed it into my mouth, bit down, and froze, 'Oh…oh that's good.'
The lemon peel shattered with a most satisfying crunch, immediately releasing the citrus's sweet, floral note, followed by a slight sourness and bitterness as the remaining fragments melted on my tongue.
A broad grin spread across my face, and I rubbed my hands together in excitement, 'Looks like my gamble paid off!'
I finished candying the rest of the lemon peels, then set them aside for later and moved on to the frosting. Needing something that would complement the bitter and sour notes of the lemon, I decided that a buttercream base would be best, with its high fat content smoothing everything out.
Two sticks of butter were tossed into the stand mixer and whipped into a light, airy texture, into which I incorporated the juices of the lemons I had peeled, some confectioners' sugar, a pinch of salt, and a bit of heavy cream to stabilize the frosting.
Once everything was mixed together and passed a taste test, I went ahead and poured in half of the candied lemon strips, folding them into the frosting with a rubber spatula where they sparkled like tiny yellow crystals in the buttercream.
'Now for the moment of truth,' I let out a stressed exhale as I took my cheesecake out of the fridge, 'Time to do some surgery.'
I got a piping bag fitted with the smallest opening, draped it over a plastic container, and scooped the buttercream frosting into the bag. Once the bowl was empty, I scraped all the buttercream into the bag, then tied it off.
With the precision of a surgeon, I used the narrow end of the piping bag to slowly fill in the cracks of the cake with buttercream. Back and forth, I poured countless layers to make sure there weren't any gaps or air pockets that would eventually collapse and mess up the final look of the cake. Even when the first warning buzzer went off, I didn't switch up my pace. And even though there were so many cracks, it actually worked out in my favor, as it ensured that no matter how I sliced it, each piece would get a good amount of the buttercream filling.
As I emptied the last bit of frosting from the bag, the final buzzer went off, signaling that time was coming to an end, 'Just a final touch.'
Taking the remaining lemon strips, I sprinkled them on top of the cheesecake, making sure not to obscure the berry swirl while paying special attention to highlight the buttercream-filled fracture lines.
'Wish I could taste test the final product, but I needed to be plating five minutes ago.' I chided myself as I grabbed a knife and began cutting the cake into even slices, revealing the inner swirls and intricate layers of buttercream.
"And five…four…three…two…one! Time's up, all three hours have elapsed. The time for cooking is now over, but it seems as if both of our contestants have put their all into their final dishes. So I won't spoil it and instead let them have the honor of presenting their mangum opi."
"Your cheesecake has a very…interesting appearance," Colette commented as she glanced at the slices I had brought over.
"It cracked in the oven," I explained matter-of-factly.
"Did you not use a water bath?"
I smirked, "Would have taken too long to cook, besides, I think it actually came out better this way."
Colette raised an eyebrow, "And what exactly did you do? I only managed to catch a glimpse…you took a lot of care when peeling those lemons."
"Just how often do you take 'glimpses'?" I asked with air quotes, making Colette roll her eyes, "It only makes sense that I would check your progress, see how you're my sole competition. Do you expect me to believe that you haven't looked over to see what I was doing?"
I paused for a second, asking the question myself, and after a moment, came up with an answer, "Uh, no, I haven't."
"Really?" Colette asked doubtfully.
"Yeah, believe it or not, but I've been busy cooking," I muttered while suppressing an eye roll, "I didn't spend all of this week planning out every last minute just to get distracted during the real thing."
"You practiced for this?" Colette asked again, and I was actually starting to feel a bit annoyed.
"Of course I did, all the dishes I'm cooking I made specifically for this competition. I didn't stand a chance if I just showed up and hoped for the best."
Colette fell silent for a second before asking her next question, but there was something different about her tone, "You believed that you would lose to me if you didn't prepare?"
"I still think I might lose, you've beaten chefs way better than me. Honestly, I'm surprised I've made it this far. I mean, I make good food, but not carrying an undefeated streak against multiple Michelin-starred head chefs." I replied before glancing at Colette, "Is it really that much of a surprise that I take you seriously?"
"You would be surprised by the ego some men have," Colette muttered bitterly before stepping forward to present her dish.