Page 8 of Offsides Attraction
“You’re helping?” Lucas asked.
“I’m doing. We’re in this together, right?” Helping the offense bring home the win in the mess Lucas had landed them in would help his image.
Cal looked uneasy. “But just here. We can’t help at the competition.”
“Who says?”
Cal and Lucas looked at each other. “I’m not an expert, but I think it’s just one person in a baking competition. It isn’t a team sport.” Lucas smirked.
“Screw that. If we’re helping you now, we’re helping you then. It’s for charity. They won’t kick us out,” Bash said. And it was for charity, at least between the offense and the defense. The other competitors wanted to win the regional QV Flour and Milling bake-off with its bragging rights and prize money.
The annual Tumble Falls Festival was soon, and the PR department wanted the Tetons to take part, hoping it would counteract Harper’s attacks. After tossing around ideas at today’s team meeting, Lucas had opened his big mouth and now they were in the bake-off.
They weren’t competing against the bakers who knew a whisk from a spatula, but against the defense. Players and the coaching staff pooled their money, and the team that placed the highest would donate all the money to a local charity of their choosing. Lucas wanted it to go to the Food Shelf, Bash wanted it to go to the library, and laid-back Cal didn’t care.
“So, what are we making?”
“A cake,” Lucas said.
Bash snorted. “Unless you’re a pastry chef, we’re not making a cake. Everyone will make the standards. To win, we need to be different. Creative and unexpected.”
“We can’t win,” Lucas reminded him, but it didn’t sit well with Bash. He’d never competed with a plan to fail.
“If we won, Harper would blame us for ruining the Tumble Falls Festival,” Cal argued. “We only need to beat the defense.”
“Fine. We’ll beat the defense and we won’t win, but can we at least do something interesting and innovative and not tired, like a cake?”
“Brownies?” Cal suggested.
“No.” Bash grabbed the tablet he’d left on the kitchen table and searched the QV Flour and Milling site for information about the regional baking competitions. His traditional roommates wouldn’t know interesting and innovative unless the concepts walked up and introduced themselves. Lucas and Cal stood behind him, as if helping. “There’s nothing in here about it needing to be baked. The only rule is that one of their products needs to be a major component in the item created.”
“Pancakes,” Cal said. “Everyone loves pancakes.”
“No.”
“Waffles, then. The big ones. We can do that.” If Bash didn’t stop Cal, he’d continue down the breakfast track and suggest something mundane, like blueberry muffins.
“We need to do something they won’t expect,” Bash pushed.
“They won’t expect all three of us in the booth,” Cal grumbled. Such a rule follower.
“Tamales,” Lucas said, sounding uncertain.
“What about them?”
“My abuela makes them. From masa harina. And I grew up making them, so I know what to do. Does QV make that?”
Bash did a quick search on the site. “Yes, and according to them, it’s available widely at all major grocery stores.”
“They wouldn’t be expecting tamales, and it meets the rules. Can we do it in the time we have?” Cal asked, sounding interested.
“Sure, but we’d have to practice. Rolling them up takes forever. My abuela and aunties spend all afternoon doing it.” Probably more of a chat fest than any real productivity, Bash thought, but he kept his mouth closed.
“But if we made a smaller batch, we could do it,” Lucas said. Bash opened a new search, intent on finding the perfect recipe.
“Dude, stop typing. If we’re doing tamales, we’re using my abuela’s recipe. I’ll call her tonight and get it.” Lucas sounded excited. Tamales would work. Bash had had them a few times. They’d been filling, but not spectacular, and if they were doing this, he wanted something better than filling.
“Okay, you call your abuela,”—he pointed at Lucas and then at Cal—“and you return all Harper’s bowls. We don’t want the Tetons blamed for a break-in.”