As Clementine Bell has learned, running a successful NYC patisserie is tougher than it looks. Even with training in classical French baking from the best school in the world, getting people to walk through the doors to the Clementhyme Bakery proves...
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Clementine couldn't remember a time where she'd slept so poorly. Each morning was the start of a new day of filming and each day could have very well been her last day on the show. A week into filming, and the stress was getting to her. Whenever she did fall asleep, her dreams were filled with melted baked alaska, crumbling cookies, and self-saucing cakes that refused to self-sauce.
On the morning of the semifinals, she awoke to a knock on her door. A sliver of wan light peeked through the curtains of her room in the chateau's west tower. She knew if she threw back the curtains she would see the green expanse of the chateau lawn dotted with white tents. She also knew she would see the sun had yet to rise.
It was Adam on the other side the door. Again. He was making a habit of bringing her down to the kitchens to help him practice his Showcase Bakes at ridiculous hours.
"I don't want any cookies, or meringues or sponge cake. It's..." she glanced at the clock on her night stand. "5:30 in the morning."
"What about pain au chocolate?"
Clementine was about to close the door when she paused. Chocolate croissants were truly her favorite part about France. With an exaggerated roll of her head she stepped into the hall. "Fine," she said as she followed him down a stone staircase towards the kitchen. "How did you say you got the owners of the chateau to agree to this?"
Adam smiled at her over his shoulder. "I agreed to do the desserts for their niece's wedding next summer — and anything I make in the morning gets put on the day's room service menu."
As Clementine watched Adam skip steps two at a time, she wondered how she had ever mistaken his passion for arrogance. From the first episode, the producers, Brie most of all, seemed to think they had chemistry and they'd been placed at stations near each other since. Everything about the competition was more difficult than either of them had expected. With the added pressure of being judged, and with the challenge of dodging cameras and sound equipment as they baked, recipes became twice as difficult, but a little less so with someone watching your back.
Backup. That's what Adam had become for her, and she for him.
Now they were two of the remaining four contestants. Rose, the 18-year-old, Louise, Adam and herself had traded positions at the top for each of the nine episodes leading up to the semifinals. Adam's early morning practice runs were his way of dealing with the stress and Clementine simply enjoyed the chance to bake without a camera in her face.
The tall kitchen already smelled of buttery croissants; Adam pulled a tray of them from the warm oven. Clementine grabbed one and after juggling the scalding pastry between her hands, broke it open to see inside. "You over-rolled this," she said. "The butter is fully incorporated into the dough. You need it between the folds to get those fluffy layers."
"I'm trying," Adam said, running a hand through his straight, dark hair. "It's just not turning out right."
