So I'm an Iron Chef

Last weekend, I got a tattoo - of the temporary variety...

I donned my apron and covered my hair with a bandanna.

I even put on a pair of sweet little earrings.

All in an effort to become the first Iron Chef of our local high school. In a twist from the typical fundraiser, my office was tapped to form a team (or two, as it turned out) to compete in a cooking challenge judged by three local chefs and including a secret ingredient revealed less than 24 hours prior to the start time. In this case, that secret ingredient was espresso powder.

Let me back up a bit...

I work with women who cook and cook very, very well. As for me, well, it's no secret I like to cook strange and unusual things I'll never attempt again.

Seemed like the perfect trio for an Iron Chef competition.

And, because we're persuasive, we talked our bosses into forming their own team.

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was losing sleep over the menu. I don't know how professional chefs do it prior to competing. I was a basket case of nerves and measurement conversions.

We unpacked our boxes of supplies and ingredients as trash talk flowed freely. Then we waited. I danced from foot to foot, shaking out my hands as the teen in a red jacket, holding an iPhone with the stopwatch display, counted us down to our start time.

We were off.

I've never participated in a food competition. I had no idea it would be so exhausting and nerve wracking. We scurried around our island, blending, mixing, shredding, sauteing. We were a whirlwind of activity and suddenly before we had a chance to do much more than breathe, our time keeper was back, counting down the seconds as we frantically plated our first dish:

Southwestern Egg Rolls with an Espresso BBQ dipping sauce

We fretted as we saw the judges take a bite and then down big gulps of water. Had we added to much chili? Why weren't they using the dipping sauce which had been formulated to complement the heat of the egg rolls.

With hardly a pause we continued to the main course. A mere fifteen minutes in, we heard the timer give the five minute warning to the kitchen two away from us. Knowing we were staggered five minutes apart, we sent a student runner to ask the teacher what was going on. We had, we thought, an hour to prepare the main dish.

Apparently we missed the memo shortening the time to a half hour.

Frantically I tried to turn the left over cornbread into corn cakes knowing the cast iron skillet in the oven wasn't going to finish in time. The cakes burned, sending black smoke spiraling into the air seconds before our time buzzed.

Thankfully our entree was plated even if it was missing the side of cornbread. What we ended up with?

Buffalo and black bean chili with espresso and dark chocolate.

The honey lime and cilantro cornbread came out minutes later to the delight of the students and audience eating the left overs.

Jumping into dessert, we suddenly realized the timing was a bit...off...during this inaugural competition. We had an hour, somehow finding the half hour deducted from our entree.

Confused?

So were we.

So we had a margarita.

(Virgin because we were on a school campus.)

I pulled the ice cream I'd started back at the beginning of the competition and Val pulled our her famous double fudge espresso brownies. You see where this is going, don't you.

With time to spare, we plated our dessert.

Double fudge espresso brownie topped with espresso Heath bar ice cream and a drizzle of espresso ganache.

It was a hit.

Also, you'll note I have no pictures. This is because the entire experience was so fast and furious we barely had time to breathe let alone snap a photo or two.

In the end, we walked away with the trophy and bragging rights.