Stars Hollow's Annual HoliDAZE Bake-Off!

DEATH Before Second Place!

I inhaled deeply, savoring the wintry smell of mocha and mint wafting up from my handy dandy to-go cup. Luke was a purist and a bit of a snob, but this weekend he knew he'd face nothing but everlasting shame Gilmore-style if he didn't add a little holiday flavor to his famous diner-brewed coffee.

I took a sip, the liquid warming my frozen lips and the steam tickling my nose. It tasted even better than it smelled, and that was saying something. Nothing --and I mean nothing-- was as good as the morning's first taste of java. I took another drink, allowing the rush of caffeine to find its way into my bloodstream. I was here covering the HoliDAZE event for the school paper, but Stars Hollow was my hometown and it was hard not to smile at the familiar folks buzzing around completing last minute preparations for the annual HoliDAZE Bake-Off held in Town Square.

Ah, it's good to be home.

On the other side of the square, several colorful tents lined the sidewalk. In just a little while, each one would have a full kitchen set up underneath and folks could watch as the chefs created a dish from local ingredients. The event always raised a ton of money for charity and it gave the winning chef serious bragging rights.

I might be a journalist, but I was rooting for Sookie.

At least I'm aware of my bias.

For The HoliDAZE cook-off, there were only three major rules: the recipes had to be original, they had to use only the ingredients provided by the planning committee, and all the dishes had to include a key ingredient, and this year it was cinnamon.

While The HoliDAZE event had been going on for a while, this year was different.

For a town the size of Stars Hollow, it had been a coup to land a huge celebrity chef like Bucky Blazes as one of the competing bakers, and the town had been preparing for this for months---with Taylor Doose leading the charge like only Taylor could.

As a reporter, I was supposed to just cover the event, but I was going to be hard-pressed to tamp down my bias. I knew who I was rooting for, but I'd have to cheer on the inside and keep my professional demeanor in place. I scooted back on the bench and pulled my notebook from the small leather backpack I carried.

I checked my watch. Ten minutes past the time Paris and I had agreed to meet up. It wasn't like her to be late. Not like her at all.

I decided to write down some of my first impressions while I waited on Paris to arrive.

Just as I'd finished jotting down a few sentences on the first blank page, I heard a scream. A blood-curdling, otherworldly scream. I'd know that high-pitched screech anywhere. I jumped up and began moving.

Sookie St. James, head chef at the Dragonfly Inn, and my pick for HoliDAZE Winner, was in full freak out mode with more than four hours to go before the judges would decide which of the chefs would walk away with the 6th Annual HoliDAZE trophy. She probably hadn't even had time to turn on her oven yet. But, that was Sookie for you. Always up for a little drama.

"Sookie," I shouted, running toward the shrill sound of her voice, all the while hoping the lid on my coffee cup would keep the piping hot, liquid adrenaline from spilling out onto the frozen ground. I reached the center tent, my scarf dragging the ground and coffee splotches dotting the front of my new gray sweater.

"What could possibly be wrong this early?" I huffed, already winded. A sportswoman I was not.

When I reached the tent assigned to her, she was standing in the middle of the space holding produce. "I can't possibly use these! Look at them!"

In one hand she held a large carrot, and in the other, an onion. Both of them looked like perfectly fine vegetable specimens to me, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell her that.