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they were going to announce them until the night before the competition, at the preview party.”
    Dillon smiled. He could be so smug.
    “All right, so what did you find out?” I asked, intrigued.
    “It’ll cost you that cream puff over there.” He pointed to the box on the table that Jake had left for me at my car.
    “How do you know it’s a cream puff?” I asked.
    He pointed to the printing on the box that read D REAM P UFFS . “Duh.”
    “Fine,” I said. I hadn’t had the stomach to eat it, nor the heart to throw it away. Now I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. I pushed it over to him.
    “Okay,” Dillon said, happy with his payment. “Like, there are five other contestants besides Mom and Jake. Ever heard of Frankie Nudo from Choco-Cheese Delights?”
    I shook my head at both the name and the thought of chocolate and cheese combined. Maybe I didn’t know what I was missing.
    “Frankie’s quite a character,” Aunt Abby said. “He’s divorced—something about his wife caught him cheating.”
    “You know him?” I asked, surprised at the number of people Aunt Abby had met after starting her food truck business.
    “Like I said, it’s a small community. Especially among the chocolate people. Frankie was one of the first to combine chocolate with cheese, and it’s becomequite popular. Isn’t it amazing how many foods taste better with a chocolate coating?”
    I nodded. “Do you think he has a chance of winning?” I asked.
    Aunt Abby shrugged. “Probably not. While some people like the combination of chocolate and cheese, most are like you and won’t even try it. I think you have to have a sophisticated palate to enjoy chocolate-covered Brie, you know?”
    “Yuck,” Dillon said simply. “Sounds disgusting. I wouldn’t eat American cheese dipped in chocolate, let alone something like moldy old Brie.”
    “That’s good mold, Dillon,” Aunt Abby said. “It’s called
Penicillium candidum
. The bacteria seep into the cheese and turn it into a wonderful, soft, tasty delicacy.”
    “A good mold?” he protested. “Right.”
    “It’s true,” Aunt Abby confirmed. “There are good molds, like the ones covering soft cheese, and bad molds, like on bread, which create toxins that will make you sick. When in doubt, throw it out, I always say. But not Brie.”
    “I’m still not going to eat it,” Dillon said. “Let’s move on. Next, there’s Harrison Tofflemire from Chocolate Falls. His company makes those chocolate waterfall thingies.”
    “Chocolate Falls? I love those gizmos!” Aunt Abby interrupted. “That’s the fastest and easiest way to cover foods with chocolate—strawberries, caramels, marshmallows, bacon.”
    Dillon winced at the bacon reference. “Anyway, he’s gotten rich off them. Claims he invented them and hesues anyone who’s tried to copy him. From his Chocolate Falls website, he sounds like a jerk. Whenever he gets a complaint in the comments section, he makes the person sound like an idiot, like whatever is wrong with the thing is the user’s fault.”
    “Really?” Aunt Abby said.
    “Yeah, like, one lady wrote in and said the chocolate doesn’t flow evenly down the tiers. Harrison told the lady she didn’t set up her machine right and should get someone who knows how to put things together to do it.”
    “Wow,” I said. “Sounds like he’s a little short on customer-service skills.”
    “Another lady said the chocolate is either too thick like pudding or too watery, never just right.”
    “What did he say to that?” Aunt Abby asked.
    “He wrote back, ‘Follow the directions better and use better chocolate, not the cheap stuff.’”
    “Jeez. It’s a wonder he’s still in business with that attitude,” I said.
    “My favorite one was from someone who complained that the fountain was lopsided. He told her to put it on a level surface, as if she wouldn’t already have done that.”
    Aunt Abby frowned. “Well, I’m not looking forward to