Stir It Up Read Online Free PDF Page A

it, I just really want to go to a school that also has a culinary program, like C-CAP — you know, the Careers through Culinary Arts Program?”
    “Really?” says Kerry. She looks surprised. “No offense, I thought those programs were for the, uh, the special ed kids. Or at least those who probably won’t go to college. You seem pretty smart, not like them.”
    I laugh. “Well, thanks,” I say, giggling. “I know people think that, and it’s partly true, I guess. But a lot of kids who are doing well in school do the program, too. The problem is you have to go to regular public school to get into C-CAP. Forest Hills is private.”
    “And let me guess, there is no way your parents want you to go to regular public school, right?”
    “Right.” I sigh. “You got it.”
    Just then Chef Nyla walks up behind us, placing a hand on each of our shoulders. “Looking good, girls,” she says pleasantly. “Just keep on stirring.”
    “Um, Chef?” I say tentatively as Chef Nyla is turning to go to the next station.
    “Yes, Anjali?”
    “One second …” I hand the spoon to Kerry. “Could you take over for a minute?” Kerry shrugs and takes the spoon.
    “I have something for you,” I say, moving toward our table. Reaching into my notebook, I pull out the curry chicken recipe.
    “This is my grandmother’s Easy Curry Chicken recipe. You said you like Trini food.” I stop, embarrassed.
    Chef Nyla takes the page and scans it with interest.
    “Thank you,” she says, smiling. “Deema’s Easy Curry Chicken. This is great, Anjali! One of my favorite Trinidad dishes, made even more special because it’s your grandmother’s own recipe. Actually, I have something I want to give you, too. Can you see me after class?”
    “Sure. Of course. Yeah.”
    The class comes to an end all too soon for me, and the groups work together plating their dishes and setting them in the middle of the tables. There is grape juice sangria with orange, nectarine, and apple slices floating on top. The school staff has set out plates and silverware. Everyone takes their places at the table.
    We all eat, trying one another’s dishes, complimenting on tastes, asking about spices, and chatting about our love of food. Afterward, we divide the leftovers in the takeaway tins the school provides for that purpose. As I pack my bag, I see Don still talking excitedly to Deema. He hands her a card and Deema smiles at him. Chef Nyla comes up to me, holding a piece of paper in her hand.
    “Anjali, this is what I wanted you to have,” she says. I take the paper and begin to read about a Food Network contest for a new show called
Super Chef Kids.
“I think you could do this,” Chef Nyla is saying. “You are a natural cook and you’re dedicated. I’d like to see you try out.”
    I look from the paper to my teacher. My stomach starts to flutter. This is exactly the kind of break I’ve been dreaming of. “Really?” I say hopefully.
    “Yes,
really,
Anjali. I hope you do it,” she says, smiling and giving my arm a squeeze. “I wrote down my e-mail address on the paper if you want my help with the essay or the application.”
    “I’m so excited the only thing I can manage to say is thanks!”
    “No problem. I’ll talk to you soon,” says the chef, beginning to unbutton her jacket and walking out of the room. She stops by Deema and says good-bye, shaking her hand and Don’s, then waving to Kerry as she leaves.
    I look down again at the paper in my hand. It says there has to be an essay and a short home video as part of the submission. Maybe Linc will help me withthat. He got a very good digital video camera for his birthday over the summer. The application says that if they like you, there will be a tryout at the Food Network studios. My heart begins to pound — hard. I read every word of the fine print. The deadline for the application is November 15, only three weeks away. I’ll have to ask Linc to help over one of the upcoming weekends. I