Just like gazpacho

The Singapore education system is weird. Silly, even. All through primary school (which the colonies call elementary school) we had these big exams twice a year. The English ones always ended in an essay. Some questions asked us to discuss a topic or idea, others gave us a title or a sentence to start.

I hated these page long exercises in making up bullshit to satisfy teachers.

When I was in secondary one (which the colonies call the seventh grade) I had a friend named Geoffrey. Geoffrey was (and still is, I think) a very uncommon person. He (we) played a bunch of video games, and he introduced me to an Ender's Game-like (similarly high quality) series of science fiction books and other neat stuff. He is also extremely christian. I wonder how he is now.

For one of the big exams that year (either mid-year or year final), we had a particularly prickly list of questions. I'm going to tell you the story of the question Geoffrey chose and his answer, because it is pure, distilled genius.

It's brilliant because of its sheer ironic and comedic genius in the face of the stodgiest education system in the world, and brilliant because of the unlikely person who wrote it.

I remember it like it was only yesterday.

Keep in mind that the person who wrote this was twelve years old. Notice how he displays all the marks of an excellent author. The central conflict is simple, but despite the leanness of detail and characters, each is substantial and important. Geoffrey details and times his tale carefully, spiking it with irony and humour that is both innocent and self-aware. He demonstrates patience and instinct for writing and storytelling far beyond his age. You'll see.

I used some, but not many liberties in reproducing this text. I wonder if the original still exists.

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PS: it's even more entertaining to have a friend read this to you

Question 1:

"Revenge is a dish best served cold"

Answer:

Revenge is a dish best served cold, just like gazpacho.

Pierre was an excellent gazpacho chef. In fact, he was the world's best gazpacho chef, having won the World Gazpacho Federation's Best Gazpacho Chef title five years running. This year, he prepared to take the title for a sixth time. Pierre traveled all over France, selecting the freshest tomatoes, the crispiest onions and the most fragrant herbs to make the perfect gazpacho yet again.

However, Pierre was not the only chef with his eyes on the trophy. His nemesis Edouardo, with whom he had a long and bitter rivalry, also had designs to win Best Gazpacho Chef. Edouardo owned a restaurant just down the street from Pierre's, and it did not help their relationship that Pierre consistently had better business, and that Edouardo had come in second to Pierre in the Best Gazpacho Chef competition for five years running.

Under the lights at the stadium, hundreds of chefs were hard at work, slicing tomatoes and crushing garlic. The whirr of blenders filled the air. As the clock counted down, Pierre put the finishing touches on his world famous gazpacho, and put a couple of cold packets into the bright red soup. A family secret passed down through generations, the cold packets chilled the gazpacho to the perfect temperature.

Unfortunately for Pierre, his cold packets were not the last thing to go into his gazpacho. Not willing to leave the contest up to the judges, Edouardo had discovered Pierre's secret and slipped a pair of hot packets into his gazpacho while he was unaware.

To add insult to treachery, he stole two of Pierre's cold packets and put them into his own soup. With Pierre out of the way, and his own soup perfectly chilled, Edouardo won the contest by a fair margin. Pierre was the laughing stock of the World Gazpacho Federation for serving warm gazpacho.

Pierre was dejected, and vowed that he would take back the title that was rightfully his. He spent most of the next year in seclusion, honing his skills and perfecting his recipes. His wife and daughter were very supportive of him, in spite of his very public embarrassment believed that he had been sabotaged.

The next year, Pierre returned to the World Gazpacho Federation against all expectations, and was received with laughter and sneers. As contest was about to begin, Edouardo and Pierre glared at each other across the stadium, knives drawn.

Once again, the stadium was alive with chefs mincing onions and chopping peppers. The air was full with the sound of buzzing blenders. As time drew near, Pierre put the finishing touches on his gazpacho and dropped a pair of cold packets into the soup.

Edouardo planned to ruin Pierre and take the title for the second time, and once again whilst his attention was diverted, slipped two hot packets into Pierre's soup, and took two cold packets for his own.

Little did Edouardo know that they were not merely cold packets that he had stolen, but new extra-cold packets that Pierre had developed over the last year. The extra-cold packets were much too cold and quickly turned his gazpacho into ice. Pierre's gazpacho, with two hot and two extra-cold packets in it, came to the perfect temperature.

Pierre reclaimed his title to cheers and applause, and Edouardo was expelled from the World Gazpacho Federation for unsporting conduct. Pierre went on to expand his restaurant and write a number of highly acclaimed cookbooks, while Edouardo suffered a nervous breakdown and is now in a mental institution.

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Okay, I took a few too many liberties with the last paragraph. The moral of the story is, don't f--- with the French.