Miami! Page 2

  “I got a message from your mom that you weren’t going to be able to make it to the festival—last-minute change to family plans or something—but you’re here!” The man beamed at Alfie and Emilia. They looked at each other quickly.

  “Yes, we’re here . . . ,” Alfie said a little uncertainly. The man had said something about a festival. That must be what was happening on the beach—but what kind?

  “Well, better late than never, I always say,” the man continued. “We’ve got record attendance this year, so we need all the help we can get.”

  Just then, a woman who was wearing a matching purple T-shirt came jogging across the sand toward them. “Marcus!” she called out.

  “Sally!” the man responded. “Look, it’s the last of our kid volunteers. They were able to come, after all.”

  A relieved smile appeared on the woman’s face. “Phew! We’ll have two more pairs of hands,” she said.

  Alfie nodded, trying not to look as confused as he felt.

  “I’m Marcus,” the man said. “I’m the volunteer coordinator for the Miami International Food Festival, and this is my assistant, Sally. Welcome to South Beach!”

  A food festival! Alfie smiled. Now that was something he could happily be involved in. Alfie shook Marcus’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Remind me of your names,” he said, flipping through pages on his clipboard. “I deleted your names from the list since I didn’t think you were coming.”

  “I’m Emilia Bertolizzi,” Emilia said, stepping forward to shake Marcus’s hand. “And this is my little brother, Alfredo.”

  Alfie shot Emilia a look. She loved using his full name because she knew he didn’t like it. And little? He was taller than she was! “I go by Alfie, though.”

  “Weird. I don’t remember those names at all! I thought it was something more like Jennifer and Josh . . .”

  Alfie shifted uncomfortably and Emilia looked worried. Alfie wished she hadn’t given their last name, too. That was even more unique than their first names. Had their chance to help at the food festival already been ruined?

  “Well, no matter. You’re here, and that’s what’s important!” Marcus said finally, jotting their names down on his list. “Let’s get you all set up. Follow me!”

  Alfie grinned, relieved, as he and Emilia followed Sally and Marcus across the sand. Alfie gawked at the tall buildings that towered above the beach and the buzzing festival on the sand in front of them. Massive covered canopies and booths with bright banners flapping in the breeze stretched across the area. They looked like really fancy circus tents. There were signs pointing in every direction to things like THE CHOCOLATE EXPERIENCE, CULINARY DEMONSTRATIONS, and THE GRAND MARKET. Alfie’s mouth hung open. He was going to need to find out exactly what the Chocolate Experience was. At the edge of all the action was a smaller tent with a bright purple VOLUNTEERS banner above it.

  “I’ll be in the demonstrations tent, helping with the Vitamaster blender giveaway,” Sally told Marcus.

  “Perfect,” Marcus responded. “After that’s done, see if they need any help over at the cupcake-decorating contest.”

  Alfie thought he might start drooling.

  Sally waved as she headed off in the opposite direction. Marcus dashed into the volunteer area and dug through a box under one of the tables. He came up with two of the same signature purple T-shirts and handed one to Alfie and one to Emilia. The shirts said MIAMI INTERNATIONAL FOOD FESTIVAL across the front and VOLUNTEER across the back.

  “Please wear your T-shirts whenever you’re working,” Marcus said. Alfie and Emilia nodded, slipping the shirts on over their clothes.

  Marcus showed them around the tented area. “You can usually find either Sally or myself here to assign tasks, but if we aren’t here, you’ll find a list of assignments at the booth each morning.” Marcus showed Alfie and Emilia today’s list. It was long, which made sense. The festival was huge!

  “I’ll add your names to the list later today,” Marcus said. “There’s plenty for you to do.”

  Marcus motioned for Alfie and Emilia to follow him. He led the way to a row of small, sleek Airstream camper trailers. Marcus opened the door to one of the trailers. “Step inside,” he said.

  Alfie climbed the metal step and looked around. “Wow!” It was much fancier than any camper he’d ever been in! There was a couch on one side, with a table and wooden bench covered in cushions on the other side. At the end of the trailer there was a bathroom, and a bed tucked into the upper corner.

  “These trailers are set up exclusively for our festival volunteers,” Marcus told them. “Whenever you have downtime or need a quick break, feel free to go into any of the trailers to relax. It’s a good place to escape the heat. And we’ve got bottled water and snacks in here, so help yourselves,” he said, opening the small chrome refrigerator.

  Alfie and Emilia smiled and exchanged a knowing glance. The trailers were a perfect place for them to spend the night!

  Marcus led them out of the trailer and back over to the tent. “Any questions?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Emilia said. Alfie shook his head. Right now all of his questions had to do with cupcakes and chocolate and free blenders, but he figured he’d keep those to himself.

  “Well, you can always ask any of the other volunteers, too, if we’re not around. Everybody’s wearing the same purple T-shirt,” Marcus said.

  Alfie and Emilia nodded.

  “Okay, great. Then it’s time for your first task!” Marcus said, setting off across the sand again. Alfie and Emilia followed quickly behind.

  “We’re ready!” Alfie said, hurrying to catch up.

  Alfie and Emilia followed Marcus as he hurried down the beach. They passed several tents and tons of booths, dodging through the crowds to keep up with him. This food festival wasn’t just big—it was huge! Alfie thought about the spring carnival back at home or the car show he’d gone to with his dad. Those events were tiny compared to this!

  They passed a couple of demonstration booths. One chef was chopping vegetables with a fancy knife. Her hands moved so quickly that Alfie couldn’t see where her fingers stopped and the carrot she was chopping began. Another demonstrator spilled ketchup all over a gleaming white T-shirt to test his spot remover. Alfie looked for the Vitamaster giveaway, but he couldn’t see it through the crowd.

  At the center of the festival was a massive stage where people enjoyed live music. Volunteers circulated through the area with trays of delicious-looking samples. Other people were sitting at tables on the sand, eating from plates piled with food that looked amazing. Alfie couldn’t wait to try some of what he was seeing!

  A voice came through Marcus’s headset. He stopped and pressed a button on his receiver to respond. “There’s a problem with one of our afternoon demonstrations,” he told Alfie and Emilia. “I have to head back. Chef Fernandez’s booth is a bit farther, just on the other side of this demonstration tent. He needs you to get some ingredients for him. Meet him at the booth and he’ll give you the list of ingredients he needs from the market.”

  Alfie and Emilia looked confused. “We don’t really know where any stores are . . . ,” Alfie said.

  Marcus chuckled. “That’s okay! There’s a market right here at the festival. We’ve set up an entire trailer with produce and kitchen staples so the chefs can get whatever they need to make their dishes. That way they don’t have to bring too many of their own ingredients with them each day.”

  “Oh, okay!” Emilia said. “That makes sense.”

  “Just keep heading in this direction. You can’t miss it, and Chef Fernandez is waiting for you,” Marcus said. And with that, he dashed off.

  Alfie and Emilia set off across the sand, looking for the chef’s booth. Alfie could see purple T-shirts dotted throughout the crowd.

  “I can’t believe how many pe
ople are here,” Emilia said.

  Alfie nodded, scanning the sea of festivalgoers. “This is crazy! And it’s cool that the festival is right on the beach like this. I hope we get to swim at some point,” he said, eyeing the gentle waves beyond the crowd.

  “Me too,” Emilia responded. “It’s hot!”

  The sun was right overhead and definitely growing stronger. Alfie was getting used to these warmer, more humid climates after all of their travels. In fact, he really liked it!

  “Alfie, look!” Emilia pointed to one of the demonstration areas. A big sign above the booth said: MAKE FRESH ITALIAN GELATO AT HOME!

  “Let’s check it out!” Alfie said, moving toward the booth like it had a gravitational pull.

  “What about Chef Fernandez?” Emilia asked.

  “We’ll just be a minute. Come on—it’s gelato!” Alfie pleaded.

  Emilia gave in to her brother’s request, and the two dashed up to the booth. The crowd in this area wasn’t as bad as the others, which surprised Alfie. Who didn’t like gelato?

  The presenter was adding fresh strawberries to the machine and talking about the wide variety of fruit and other flavors one could make.

  Alfie stood on his tiptoes, watching and waiting—hoping for a sample.

  “Are there going to be samples?” a boy around Alfie’s age asked. It looked like he was there with his family.

  “I hope so!” said a girl who was probably his older sister.

  “Be patient, kids,” a woman said.

  “But, Tia, that’s practically impossible,” the boy said. “It’s gelato!”

  Alfie chuckled. “Exactly!” he said, agreeing with the boy.

  The boy smiled at him. “Did you get a sample?”

  “Not yet,” Alfie replied. “My sister and I just got here.”

  “I’m here with my sister, too,” the boy said, motioning to the girl next to him.

  “Hi, I’m Margo,” she said with a bright smile. “And this is Thomas.”

  “I’m Alfie. This is Emilia.”

  “Have you gotten any samples of other stuff yet?” Thomas asked Alfie.

  Alfie shook his head. “I’ve seen some delicious-looking food, though.”

  “We’ve already had spicy Thai noodles, baklava, and some Swedish thing I can’t remember the name of. They were all so good!” Thomas spoke quickly, excitement rising in his voice.

  “Yum!” Alfie said. “That sounds amazing!”

  The demonstrator had stopped the machine to answer some questions. There were no samples yet.

  “The key is,” Thomas continued, “you have to keep moving through the crowd and just circle back to the things you like. There are so many people, they usually don’t remember that you’ve already gotten a taste.”

  Alfie laughed. “Thanks for the good advice. I’ll remember that!”

  Thomas beamed.

  “We should probably get going,” Emilia said. Alfie nodded. He didn’t want to leave without trying the gelato, but he knew Emilia was right—they shouldn’t keep the chef waiting much longer.

  “Well, good luck!” Alfie told Thomas.

  “You’re leaving without a sample?” Thomas looked stricken.

  Alfie nodded. “We have to. We’re volunteering and we have to get to our next task.”

  “Well, maybe I can have your sample then, too.” Thomas grinned.

  “Good idea!”

  Thomas and Margo waved good-bye. Alfie and Emilia squeezed through the crowd, which was bigger now. Everybody wanted gelato! They hurried out of the booth and across the sand.

  “That kid Thomas was funny,” Alfie said. “Maybe we’ll run into them again.”

  “That would be cool,” Emilia replied. “It’s always nice to get to know other kids when we’re on one of Zia’s adventures. Oh, look. There it is!” Emilia pointed to a booth just beyond the demonstration tent. The chef there kept looking at his watch and then scanning the crowd. Alfie and Emilia hurried over.

  “Chef Fernandez?” Alfie asked.

  “Did Marcus send you?” the chef replied.

  “Yes,” Emilia answered. “He said you needed some ingredients from the market.”

  “You’re late! I was expecting you ages ago. How can I finish my arroz con pollo without chicken?”

  “Sorry, chef,” Alfie said. “We’ll be quick!”

  The chef handed Alfie the list with a grunt, and they hurried away.

  “We’ve got to do a good job,” Emilia said. “He wasn’t happy.”

  Alfie nodded, but then stopped in his tracks. “We forgot to ask for directions to the market!”

  Emilia’s face fell. “Oh no!”

  They looked at the sea of people, tents, and banners spread across the beach, but couldn’t see anything that looked like a market. They walked in one direction and then the other.

  “There must be a sign or another volunteer around here somewhere,” Emilia said.

  Just then Alfie spotted another volunteer about their age who was balancing a tray of samples on her palm.

  “Hi!” she said. She had curly black hair and a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. “You guys must be the volunteers that just arrived. I’m Stacey.”

  “Yes! Hi, I’m Emilia.”

  “And I’m her brother, Alfie,” Alfie jumped in before Emilia could use Alfredo or little again.

  “I saw Marcus on the way over, and he’s pretty excited to get more help. We were totally swamped yesterday!”

  “We’re happy we get to help!” Emilia said.

  “What do you think of the festival so far?” Stacey asked.

  “It’s great! I can’t wait to try some of the food,” Alfie said, eyeing the little paper cups lined up on Stacey’s tray. He couldn’t tell what the samples were—some sort of shrimp dish, maybe?

  Stacey laughed. “Don’t worry—you’ll get plenty of chances. This is my second year volunteering, and we got to try tons of stuff last year.”

  “That’s cool you’ve volunteered before,” Alfie said. “Then you must know where the market is!”

  “We need to get some ingredients for Chef Fernandez, and he’s already annoyed that he had to wait for us to get to his booth!” Emilia explained.

  Stacey smiled. “The Caribbean chef?”

  “I think so,” Alfie replied. “He said he was making arroz con pollo. That’s Spanish for chicken with rice, right?”

  “Yep!” Stacey said. “It’s a Cuban dish. Follow me. I’ll show you the market.”

  Alfie and Emilia followed Stacey in the opposite direction of where they had been going. Before long they came upon an enormous silver Airstream—much bigger than the ones for the volunteers to use. There was a banner hung across the side that read THE GRAND MARKET. Now Alfie remembered seeing that on one of the signs.

  “I have to finish passing out my samples, but I’ll see you guys later!” Stacey waved before dashing off.

  “Thank you!” Alfie and Emilia called after her. Then they stepped inside the trailer. It was a wide-open space. There were rows of shelves in the middle lined with dry goods, spices, and crates of fresh fruit and produce, while the outside of the space was ringed with giant refrigerators and coolers. The coolers held milk, cream, all kinds of cheese, eggs, juices—anything Alfie could imagine a chef might need.

  Alfie pulled out Chef Fernandez’s list, and they got to work gathering what he wanted. At the bottom of the list the chef had written his festival ID number. Alfie showed it to the market worker. The worker entered the number on his handheld tablet and then scanned each item.

  “Chef Fernandez will receive receipt confirmation of what you got for him,” the worker told them. They nodded and picked up their bags. Then they ran all the way back to the chef’s booth to deliver the ingredients.

  Chef Fernandez sti
ll looked annoyed when they arrived. “Where have you been?”

  “Sorry,” Emilia said. “We had a little trouble finding the market. It’s our first day.”

  The chef checked what they had brought back against the list and finally nodded in approval. “Very good,” he said. He seemed to relax a bit, and Alfie and Emilia were relieved.

  “Would you like to try some of my ropa vieja?” the chef asked. “I’m serving mostly Cuban dishes today.”

  Alfie had no idea what rope-uh vee-ay-ha was, but he’d been dying to try something since they arrived! “Sure!”

  “This is a traditional Cuban dish of shredded beef in spices and a tomato-based sauce,” Chef Fernandez said as he put a spoonful of rich-looking beef on each plate. “And these are fried plantain chips.” He added several crispy yellow chips that looked like bigger, brighter-colored banana chips. “Plantains are also a staple in Cuban cuisine—and in most Caribbean food.”

  “Are they like bananas?” Emilia asked as the chef handed them each a plate.

  “They are,” he replied. “But plantains are much bigger and, in my opinion, much tastier. And they’re not usually eaten raw like bananas are.”

  Alfie used a plantain chip to scoop up a bite of ropa vieja. The beef was as rich-tasting as it looked, and Alfie absolutely loved it. “This is amazing!”

  “So good,” Emilia agreed between eager bites.

  “This recipe has been in my family for generations,” the chef said. “It’s one of my favorites. The term ropa vieja actually means old clothes in Spanish.”

  “How weird,” Alfie said. Maybe he could work that into one of his homework assignments for Mrs. Vega. Alfie took another bite. He liked the contrast of the melt-in-your-mouth beef with the crisp, salty-sweetness of the plantain chips. “I can see why this is one of your favorites!”