Week 5: Chefs Feast!

They call me George.
S. George.... and I am an international spy.
My mission this week was to infiltrate an exclusive gala. I was to go unnoticed, and would be receiving my assignment once inside. Once my mission was completed, I had to escape without anyone ever knowing that I was there. And then write about it.
This is my story.
I know very little about the man I work for. I simply know him as "Chef Evil". The government recently captured a snapshot of Dr. Evil doing who knows what. This is the only known photo of him on earth. You should consider yourself lucky to be viewing it.

For those of you wondering what an international spy does in preparation of a mission, there are many steps you must take before you are ready to execute.
1) you must research your target. 
I came to find that my target was put on by the national food bank. It was a charity gala called 'The Chefs Feast' which featured over 20 chefs showing off their stuff, an auction for tons of great prizes and drinks from many liquor companies. All proceeds went to Food 4 Kids, helping elementary school children have healthy snacks for weekends and holidays when they cannot be at school to eat lunches and breakfasts. (this made me feel a bit bad about my mission, but a spy's gotta do what a spy's gotta do).
2) make sure you dress for the occasion.
Since I was told to blend in, I dresses in all black clothing. I wore rubber-soled shoes that are slip proof for in the kitchens and made sure I didn't stand out. (Which is why, at the last minute, I decided against the black ski mask as a finishing touch)
3) mentally prepare yourself /cover all possibilities
*I personally have many ways to psych myself up for game time. I will write myself notes all over the house and leave them for me to find, similar to the way your mom would leave you notes in your lunchbox.
*I shut off all but one light in my house and sing kumbaya.
*I jazzersize.
*I comb through my mind, envisioning every scenario that may happen and then force myself to only think about the happy ones. (Ever read The Secret?)

Exciting, isn't it? Right at this very moment you are picturing yourself becoming a spy. Don't worry, we all do it. But enough about the prep work, allow me to fill you in on how my night went.
I managed to sneak my way inside the building by using a fake badge with my scanned picture on it. I followed the large mass of people filing into the elevator and offered to carry a box for someone (pretend to be sweet so that they don't question you being there). Once we stopped, I entered a large hallway where all of the chefs were fervently working on plating bite size delights that showcased their talents.
I pretended to take an urgent phone call and walked inside the large arena where the event was being held.

I surveyed the scene around me and realized that I was going to need to act like I was doing something. Everyone was hastily gathering goods, setting out food, arranging alcohol and making sure their table looked incredible.
Just as I turned to busy myself with a 'job' Chef Evil appeared at my elbow.
-A word of warning to those who are looking to become a spy.... when the man you are working for can sneak up on you like a ghost in the night... DON'T double cross him and ALWAYS do what he says.
'George' He said in a low voice that only I could hear.
'Evil' I said in acknowledgement.
We stood side by side, pretending that we were admiring one of the many paintings hung on the massive walls, as he gave me further details of my mission.
'Did you bring your camera?' He asked me while nodding hello to a few chefs who had waved at him.
'Of course. The discreet one that doubles as a pen.'
'Good. Here is your assignment for the evening.' Chef Evil handed me a small black envelope sealed with black wax. 'You are to be a fly on the wall here. Nobody is to know what it is that you are doing or to know that you ever existed.' He turned to look at me 'I am known by many people here. You will not mention my name and if anyone brings up that they saw us speaking, you will convince them that they were mistaken.' He gave me the evil eye 'Do I make myself clear?'
'Crystal.'
The Chef vanished as quickly as he had appeared. I looked down at the envelope and plucked the wax off the back. I pulled out a black, weathered looking piece of paper with silvery scrawling script on it.

Agent George ~

Your assignment is to sample each cuisine that every table offers and find out as much as you can about this 'Chefs Feast'. We want to know who is turning out great stuff, and who's is sub-par. Document as much as you can and report back to Chef Evil when finished. 

This message will self destruct.

And it did.

The message imploded in my hand and a tiny puff of black smoke rose up as I turned to survey the scene.

There were tables lining the walls filled with colorful foods in tiny portions. Chefs were visibly stressed out, trying to make everything on their table look more amazing than the ones next to them. There were ice sculptures, carving stations, wine tasting booths, top shelf liquors, and foods in every variety and flavor.

I was just finishing walking around the vast room before the entrance doors opened and huge waves of people began to fill the room. 

Sensing that it would be more difficult to take photos once swarms of people began to snatch everything off the beautiful display plates (for those of you who have lived/or been to Laguna's Art Walk.... you know what happens when free food and drink is offered.) I went into stealth mode and ran around the perimeter of the room, snapping photos with my camera pen as quickly as possible.

Rattlesnake bites

Barbecue, apple turnovers and beef wellington

Salmon mousse with capers

Civeche (it was amaaaazing!)

Can you really go wrong with chocolate?

One of the SEVEN ice sculptures that were done by the best ice sculptor in OKC.

The tube chills the shot as it is poured.

Custard Brulee.

The centerpiece of the room.

Agua Fresca being poured out of a pistol. Shot glasses were below.

Yet ANOTHER great sculpture.

MEEEEEAT.

I had to document this because it was the largest bottle of champagne I had seen. 

I thought it was cool at least. :)

One of the many tables on display

I took this picture with my dear friend Glenna in mind. She is also a spy in case you wondered.

This was not the pig on my porch.

(that is code and you have to be a spy to understand. Sorry civilians)

Loaded baked pots

Filled pots

Another well displayed table

Stuffed roast

Seared beef southwestern salad

Mango martinis. No alcohol, LOTS of sugar.

Mini cheesecake cups

I sampled it all. Almost everything was superb and I even chatted with a few people (blending in is key... and sometimes hard to do when you are wearing blue surgical gloves....I couldn't leave fingerprints, of course.)

Just as I was taking my last bite, a black envelope with a wax seal fluttered down and landed on the floor in front of me as if by magic. I shoveled the last bite of short ribs on corn polenta in my mouth and opened the envelope while I chewed.

You have been compromised

In one fluid motion, I dropped the envelope and turned for the door. Time stretched as I began to sprint forward. In the few seconds it took for me to get to the door I watched life in slow motion. I heard a deep, low rumble and felt the ground shake as I grabbed the sleek handle of the door. I pushed it open just as I felt the heat and heard the deafening explosion roar behind me. The blast shot me forward and I tumbled out onto the street. I rolled across the concrete, skidding to a stop at the base of the large statue in front of the building. 

After a long moment I looked behind me at the event hall which had been leveled. I shook the debris out of my hair and looked at the huge pile of smoking rubble that, just a moment ago was a swinging party. The ringing in my ears made me slightly dizzy and I squinted up at the statue looming over me.

I know exactly how he feels.

I got on my feet, brushed off my pants, and began my long walk to my car. I heard sirens in the distance approaching slowly but I knew I would be long gone before they arrived. I reflected on my evening, I felt slight melancholy for the way it had ended..... those were really great short ribs and I would have loved to go back for seconds.

But when you are a spy.....

It's all in a days work.