Miami! Read online

  “Good luck!” Jude called.

  Alfie and Emilia waved to the other volunteer.

  “We go to the same high school, and he’s in my cooking club,” Margo explained. “It looks like he feels totally fine about his recipe.”

  “Don’t let him get to you,” Alfie said. Emilia shot Jude a glare.

  Margo wandered through the market trailer. She picked out lemons, eggs, cream, and butter. Then she stared into her bag.

  “Do you need sugar or flour or anything like that?” Emilia asked.

  Margo shook her head. “I have those things back at my station.”

  Alfie looked around at all the shelves and coolers of ingredients, trying to think of something else that Margo might need, but he had no idea what else would go into making a lemon meringue pie. Now that he thought about it, what was meringue, anyway?

  “I guess I’ll start with this stuff,” Margo said, still staring into her bag. “It just seems like I should need more . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “How much time do you have?” Emilia asked gently.

  “The actual competition is tomorrow morning,” Margo said. “So I have the rest of the day to figure it out. At the end of the day I have to present the organizers with my planned recipe and a sample of my dish. That way no one can change their recipe or get any outside help at home overnight.”

  “That’s good! Plenty of time,” Alfie said, hoping he sounded encouraging again.

  Margo nodded. “All I can do is try, right?”

  “That’s right!” Emilia said. “Give it a go and see what happens.”

  “Okay,” Margo said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It’s time to make a lemon meringue pie.”

  Alfie and Emilia walked back to Margo’s station with her.

  “I know you’re going to do great,” Emilia said.

  “Totally,” Alfie agreed. “You’ve got this!” He hoped their words were giving her more confidence about making the recipe. Alfie could see the nervousness on Margo’s face, but she also looked a little more determined.

  When they reached the junior chef area, Margo arranged her ingredients and started prepping to make a trial run of her pie. Alfie noticed some of the other junior chefs talking and laughing. The others didn’t seem quite as tense as Margo. Alfie felt bad. Margo was so nice and she obviously cared about cooking so much. He liked that she had learned to cook from her aunt and that she had a brother about Alfie’s age—they had a lot in common. He really wanted her to win!

  Just then, Marcus ran up with his clipboard in hand. He was out of breath. “Chef Fernandez . . . ,” he wheezed. “He needs some help and he specifically requested the two of you.”

  “Really?” Alfie asked, surprised.

  “Chef Fernandez is very . . . particular,” Marcus explained. “He likes things to be a certain way. He wasn’t happy with today’s volunteer, so he asked for you two. You must have done something he liked yesterday!”

  “But what about Margo?” Emilia asked.

  “Margo, are you okay? Do you need anything?” Marcus asked, looking frantic and checking his watch.

  “I’m fine,” Margo said. “I need to focus on my recipe now, anyway.”

  “Are you sure?” Alfie asked. He didn’t want Margo to feel like they were abandoning her.

  “I’m sure. Really.”

  “Okay then,” Emilia said. “We’ll check in a little later.” Then they followed Marcus in the direction of the chef’s booth.

  “I’ve got another fire to put out . . . literally!” Marcus said, sprinting away. “Call Sally on the phone if you need anything!”

  “I can’t wait to try more of Chef Fernandez’s food!” Alfie said. “But I hope Margo’s okay. I’m so glad we got assigned to help her! I like her and Thomas a lot.”

  “I know, me too!” Emilia responded. “I can’t imagine making a dish for a competition without a recipe to follow. I know Zia does it every day, and I feel like I’m starting to learn a few of her tricks, but for a contest? That’s so stressful!”

  “Totally.”

  The chef had a pinched look on his face when they arrived at his booth, but it actually softened pretty quickly, much to Alfie’s relief. He was a little intimidated by the Caribbean chef!

  “Good morning,” Chef Fernandez said.

  “Morning, sir,” Alfie said. They hung back, waiting on the outside of the table.

  “Well, step right up, don’t be shy.” Chef Fernandez motioned them inside. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s plenty to do, and I know you two can handle it.”

  Alfie and Emilia walked into the booth and stood next to the chef. On the table in front of him were several trays of small, flat loaves of bread. The bread was light golden-brown, and there were flecks of coconut sprinkled across the top.

  “Have you had coconut bake before?” the chef asked. Alfie and Emilia shook their heads. “This is a traditional Caribbean dish. It’s served in many Caribbean countries, but my recipe is from Trinidad and Tobago, and I think it’s the best. Do you know where that is?”

  Alfie closed his eyes for a second to picture a map of the Caribbean in his head. He saw the Bahamas and Cuba close to the tip of Florida, and then a string of islands that fanned out away from the United States. There was Haiti, where Margo was from, and the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, and then a group of much smaller islands. He thought Trinidad and Tobago was at the far end of that group. “Isn’t Trinidad and Tobago close to South America?” Alfie asked.

  “That’s right!” Chef Fernandez responded. “It’s just off the coast of Venezuela.”

  “The coconut bake looks delicious,” Emilia said.

  “We’ve got a lot of samples to prepare,” Chef Fernandez said, getting down to business.

  He showed Alfie and Emilia how to cut the coconut bake into small squares and place them onto little paper doilies. Then they added a small dollop of guava jam to the top of each one.

  “This guava jam is good,” Alfie said to Emilia. “It reminds me of that guava paste we had with the cheese in Rio de Janeiro. What was that snack called again?”

  Emilia thought for a second. “Romeo and Juliet!”

  “That’s right!” Alfie said. “I wonder where they came up with that name, anyway. We should have asked Señor Costa.”

  Emilia shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to go back!”

  Alfie laughed. “For sure!”

  Alfie and Emilia finished filling the sample trays. Chef Fernandez looked at his watch. “We’ve got a few more minutes before I promised I’d have these out. Would you like to try the coconut bake?”

  “Yes, please!” Alfie said, eyeing the bread.

  The chef cut off two big slices from the last remaining loaf on the tray and added a generous heap of guava jam to each one.

  “Thank you,” Alfie and Emilia said, taking the bread.

  Alfie took a bite. The bread was dense, but still light and fluffy in the middle. And the sweet, nutty coconut flavor definitely came through. The guava jam sweetened it even more and added a bit of fruity flavor. “It’s fantastic.”

  “Yum!” Emilia added. “You can really taste the coconut.”

  The chef nodded and smiled. “This bread is eaten for all meals, really. In the morning, with guava or passion-fruit jam or buljol, or later in the day, with butter or smoked herring.”

  “What’s buljol?” Emilia asked.

  “It’s shredded salted cod mixed with tomatoes and hot peppers.”

  “Wow!” Alfie said. “That sounds pretty good. Not sure I’d want that for breakfast, though.”

  The chef laughed. Just then, a crowd of festivalgoers started to gather. “Okay, it must be time.”

  Alfie and Emilia quickly finished their coconut bake.

  “Now, I need you each to circulate wit
h a tray of coconut bake.” Chef Fernandez picked up the first tray and handed it to Emilia. She took the tray and headed into the crowd.

  Alfie took the second tray and tried to balance it on his palm like he’d seen one of the other volunteers do, but it almost tipped over onto the sand. Chef Fernandez grimaced, so Alfie held the tray carefully with two hands. He moved into the crowd and watched Emilia approach a group of attendees.

  “Would you like to try some coconut bake?” she asked, extending her tray. Alfie thought she was trying to make herself sound extra professional and grown-up. Emilia smiled politely, and people helped themselves to the samples.

  Alfie walked a few steps away from Emilia and approached another group. “Hi,” he said.

  “What have you got there?” a man in the group asked.

  “This is Caribbean coconut bake,” Alfie said proudly.

  “What’s that?” the woman next to the man asked.

  Alfie hadn’t expected questions. “It’s, um, a type of bread with coconut in it from Trinidad and Tobago. And it has jam on top. The jam is . . .” What kind of jam was it again? “Guava!” Alfie said loudly.

  “None for me, thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t like coconut.”

  “Oh,” Alfie responded. He couldn’t imagine not liking coconut. It was so delicious!

  “Well, I’d love to try some coconut bake,” the man said, taking a paper doily.

  Two others in the group nodded and grabbed samples. “Thanks!” they said.

  “You’re welcome,” Alfie said, grinning.

  He moved on to the next group and noticed that Emilia’s tray was already half-empty and she had a huge crowd around her.

  “Step up to try some delicious coconut bake!” Alfie said to the next group.

  Before long, Alfie was down to one sample, so he decided to head to the booth for a refill. He saw Emilia headed the same way with an empty tray.

  Chef Fernandez was grinning from ear to ear when Alfie and Emilia arrived with their empty trays. He handed them fresh trays and sent them out again. Alfie had fun running back and forth to get more samples. Before long, the coconut bake was gone, and Chef Fernandez thanked them and told them they could report back to Marcus.

  Alfie and Emilia hurried to Margo’s booth instead. They wanted to see how she was doing.

  When Alfie and Emilia reached Margo’s table, they were hoping to see a finished lemon meringue pie. But Margo looked even more frazzled than she had before. Her table was a mess of ingredients.

  “Do you need any help?” Emilia asked gently.

  Margo shook her head and wiped some sugar from her cheek. “No, thanks. I’m worrying too much and it’s making me mess up. I think I just need to concentrate for now. Can you guys check in at the end of the day?”

  “Of course,” Alfie said. “Good luck!”

  Alfie and Emilia wandered back over to the volunteer booth. When they got there, Stacey was waiting for them.

  “Marcus said Chef Fernandez is going to an event this afternoon and everything else is pretty much covered, so we can take a break. Ready for some exploring?” she asked.

  “Let’s go!” Alfie said, excited to finally explore South Beach.

  “Great!” Stacey said. They headed up the beach and away from the main area of tents and booths. The festival was in full swing, and Alfie could hear music starting up from the stage in the center. Even though they’d only seen a small slice of Miami so far, he really loved the energy. It felt so busy and alive.

  Stacey led them to a bike rental booth at the very edge of the festival, near the exit. “Since we’re volunteers, we get to use the bikes for free,” she told them.

  “Cool!” Alfie said.

  They each chose a bike from the row of beach cruisers parked at the edge of the sand, and the rental guy wrote down their names and fitted them with bike helmets. He showed them how to adjust the seats and lock up the bikes if they parked them anywhere. Then they were ready to cruise!

  Just opposite the rental booth was a paved bike path that ran between the sand and the street on the other side. Alfie decided it must be the same path he’d seen people running and biking on the night before. Stacey hopped on her bike and pedaled onto the path. Alfie and Emilia followed close behind. It was another hot and slightly sticky day, but the salty ocean breeze felt great.

  Stacey pointed out a few hotels and restaurants as they rode. The streets were busy with tourists and beachgoers. Before long, the bike path wound around the edge of a green park between the row of busy hotels, shops, and restaurants, and the beach. There were volleyball nets set up on the beach, and several teams were immersed in their games.

  Stacey stopped in front of a beautiful old clock. The clock also showed the temperature, which was currently eighty-three degrees, and the date, which ran down the side. There was a small stone bench attached to the left side of the clock.

  “This is Lummus Park,” Stacey said. “And this is the Art Deco District. See the style of letters at the top of this clock, where it says MIAMI BEACH?”

  “Yeah,” Alfie and Emilia said.

  “That’s art deco,” Stacey said. “It’s also a style of architecture that was popular in the 1920s. A lot of the small, older hotels on this end of the beach were designed in that style.” Stacey pointed across the street to the row of buildings. They all had rounded edges and interesting lines with signs in the same style of writing as the clock.

  “It looks cool at night when the hotels are all lit up in neon colors,” Stacey said.

  Alfie also noticed a couple of old-timey classic cars parked in front of the hotels. It felt like stepping into another time.

  “I love this area!” Emilia said.

  “It’s my favorite, too,” Stacey said. “Come on. I know a great smoothie place right up the street. My treat!”

  They walked their bikes across the street, locked them to a bike rack, and went into the smoothie shop. The menu was huge, and Alfie had a hard time deciding, but he finally settled on a mango and peach smoothie. Emilia got banana and strawberry, and Stacey got mixed berry.

  “How old are you guys?” Stacey asked as they enjoyed their smoothies at a table on the terrace in front of the smoothie place. “I’m twelve and a half.”

  Alfie opened his mouth to speak, but Emilia beat him to it. “I’m thirteen,” she said. “Alfie’s eleven.”

  “I’ll be twelve next month,” Alfie pointed out, glaring at Emilia. She smiled back, knowing how much it bugged him.

  When they finished their smoothies, they hopped back on their bikes and rode down the bike path, away from the art deco hotels. They reached a section of much larger resort hotels closer to where the festival was set up. It reminded Alfie of where they had stayed on Maui.

  Stacey pulled to a stop near some benches on the side of the bike path. “Did you guys bring your bathing suits? I could definitely go for a swim about now!”

  “Um,” Emilia started. “Our swim stuff is back at the hotel, and it’s kind of far away . . .”

  “Hmm,” Stacey said. “I should have told you guys to bring them with you to the festival today. I have my suit on under my clothes.”

  “Is there anywhere nearby we could buy cheap bathing suits?” Alfie chimed in. “I would love to go swimming!”

  Emilia gave Alfie a worried look, but Alfie patted his jeans pocket. He had started carrying his allowance money in his pocket at all times now—just in case Zia sent them on another adventure!

  Emilia smiled, realizing what Alfie had done. “Yeah, we can buy something.”

  Stacey’s face lit up. “Actually, there is. There’s a whole row of shops a couple of streets away that will be perfect.”

  “Great!” Alfie said.

  “It might be easier to return our bikes to the rental booth and then walk over to the shops,”
Stacey suggested.

  Alfie jumped back on his bike and led the way. He couldn’t wait to add Miami to his list of swim spots. He was beginning to think that not only should he carry his allowance at all times, but he should carry his swim trunks, too!

  Alfie, Emilia, and Stacey dropped off their bikes and then headed across the bike path and around one of the big hotels.

  “All the touristy shops are over on Collins Avenue,” Stacey said as they made their way there.

  The sidewalks were busy with people who were shopping or strolling to the beach. Alfie could hear music drifting out of the shops and restaurants. It sounded really inviting. “What kind of music is that?” he asked.

  “That’s salsa,” Stacey said. “You’ll hear it all over Miami. It’s like the unofficial music of the city.”

  “It kind of reminds me of samba,” Alfie said. “Don’t you think, Emilia?”

  Emilia shrugged her shoulders.

  “It’s definitely similar,” Stacey said. “Both types of music come from Latin America. And they’re great to dance to. Everybody should try salsa dancing at least once in their lives. There are places to go salsa dancing all over the city.”

  Alfie looked at Emilia expectantly. He thought for sure she’d be excited to hear about and try another type of dance. But she didn’t seem the least bit interested. Alfie was surprised. Emilia was obviously still feeling down on her dancing abilities.

  Stacey steered them into a brightly lit shop on the corner of Collins Avenue. There were racks and racks of T-shirts, bathing suits, beach towels, and hats, not to mention huge displays of glass figurines, coffee mugs, magnets, and snow globes. Alfie thought it was funny to have snow globes of Miami. He couldn’t imagine it snowing in Miami—especially on a day like this.

  Stacey waited near the front of the store while Alfie and Emilia picked out their bathing suits and a couple of other items. Alfie grabbed another T-shirt, and Emilia chose a floral sundress. Luckily, they had a mini bottle of sunscreen from their volunteer travel packs in Alfie’s jeans pocket. They paid for their items and joined Stacey by the door.