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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#270: The Perfect Recipe

Writing can often feel like trying to follow the perfect recipe: with the right inciting incident, you can push your character out of their status quo or comfort zone, and if you sprinkle some challenges in there, you get character development. Then, you turn the heat up until you reach a boiling point — maybe you even toss in a third-act crisis — and just before it spills over, you add the finishing touches and plate it up.

But sometimes, no matter how carefully you stick to a recipe, things don’t turn out as planned. That’s when, like any great chef, you realize it’s better to forgo exact steps and simply season to taste.

This week’s prompts take inspiration from the world of food, so grab your aprons and preheat your ovens — let’s get cooking!

This week's prompts

Write a story in the form of a recipe.

Short Story – 82 stories

Start or end your story with two people discussing an important matter over a meal.

Dramatic – 60 stories

Write a story inspired by the saying “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

Angst – 59 stories

Set your story in a kitchen, either early in the day or late at night.

Short Story – 82 stories

Write a story about someone searching for a missing ingredient, literally or metaphorically.

Dramatic – 53 stories

Stories

“The Blue Peacock” by Kathy Hayes

Submitted to Contest #270

The Blue PeacockA Short StoryBy Kathy HayesBeulah was dining at The Blue Peacock. She and Sam loved this restaurant. There were so many memories there.“Sam, what are you having? I am thinking about the filet.”The picturesque small resort town, Oaks On The Lake, was in rural Appalachia. Oaks was a small community of 1200. The business and homes were located all around the ten acre lake. The small village catered to the year around tourists and the wealthy men and women who had built their vacation cottages, or so...

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“Mia's Garden” by Abby Johnson

Submitted to Contest #270

(TW: mentions of miscarriages, cheating) They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, and I learned that the hard way the day I uncovered my husband’s betrayal. After fifteen years of marriage, I finally trusted my instincts. For months, I had felt the distance between us growing—his late nights at “work,” the hushed conversations that abruptly ended when I walked into the room, and his dwindling interest in me. When I checked his location, my heart dropped: he was headed to a house just around the corner. A house belonging to my best...

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“A MATTER OF LIVING” by David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #270

A MATTER OF LIVING1 As he struggled to consciousness, Jack Corbin felt the burning of sweat rolling into his eyes. Where am I? Slowly, his vision cleared. He was in a basement, stone walls smelling of mildew, and cobwebs hanging from the ceilings. His hands and feet were shackled and he was strapped in a chair reminiscent of a throne, or perhaps the electric chair. He tried to re-construct the events that preceded his awakening. He had met with Dutch, supposedly an informant for the Rochester Police Department...

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“Shadows of the Game” by Lauren Elisiario

Submitted to Contest #270

The ballroom shimmered with golden light, casting soft reflections off the marble floors, as laughter and conversation flowed like champagne. Logan Montgomery stood at the center, surrounded by the fashion elite. Cameras flashed, capturing his every smirk as he fielded questions from eager reporters. His latest triumph—the gown behind him—was the star of the evening, the centerpiece of the newest Montgomery-Wilde collection.Except it wasn’t his creation.From a darkened corner, I watched, as a ghost in the crowd. This was how it always was—Lo...

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“The Virtue” by Dakota Dunston

Submitted to Contest #270

***TW*** gore, blood, m*der, trauma, drugs, abuse They used to tell me patience is a virtue. A virtue that should be practiced every second of every day. From the moment you open your eyes to the moment they close at night. From your first breath to your last wispy draw of air. And by they, I meant the Great Nuns of St.Petersburg’s Chapel. The Chapel is where many people- including myself- drew our first breaths, and even some drew their last; seeking peace with god. This chapel is the same place that I grew up in for eighteen years of ...

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“A Nice 140 Degrees” by Holly Garrett

Submitted to Contest #270

“They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I prefer mine at a nice 140 degrees. You see, this is the perfect temperature to drink a nice cup of coffee.” She spoke in a cold, detached manner. She spoke as if she had said this thousands of times before and would speak this line a thousand more. “I’m sorry. Could you explain what you mean by that?” Sat across from her was a young man, well he was young compared to the woman. Unbeknownst to her today was this young man’s birthday. He turns 34 today. “You seem like a smart young ...

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“Envy, Madness, and a Dish Best Served Cold” by D.C. Wright

Submitted to Contest #270

Madness engulfed him. It seized his thoughts and actions—and before he could stop himself, he thrust the silver serrated blade into Serra’s chest.He gripped the blade with both hands, even as his heart quailed at the irredeemable act of attempted murder. The feeling did not last long. His face curled in a snarl, and with a pitiful, inarticulate cry he stabbed, and stabbed, until Serra’s lips were blue, and her chest drawn tight as she gasped ...

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“Agnus Dei” by Elyse B. Wright

Submitted to Contest #270

“Heavenly Father,” a man’s voice rumbles, his sunken eyes rejecting the light. A glint bounces off the cold, hard steel around his neck. “Help the people of this earth by purging the sin from these demon’s minds.” I watch the cross’s glint, its ephemeral figure carving around the symbol’s four edges before wafting away as the man steps out of the window’s light. There is a clattering in the distance before he can carry on with his words. The man turns slowly, his eyes landing on a felled candelabrum. It lays helplessly on its side, wax pooli...

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“Food is a Love Language” by Sofia Fleming

Submitted to Contest #270

I hum as I pull out the fresh ingredients from my fridge and cupboards. The salmon bakes in the oven while a small pot of olive oil sits on the stove on medium heat. I set a timer for 50 minutes for the salmon with one hand, leave a bagel in the toaster, and grab a chef’s knife with the other. My hands return to slice a carrot and celery stalk, as well as chop a small onion. For some reason, chopping onions and shredding chillis don’t tend to get me unless I touch my eyes. Never been much of a crier, I guess. Working fast helps but the slic...

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“Fancy Dress” by Juliet Martin

Submitted to Contest #270

Pete squeezed his way down the side passage to arrive at the back door. The fist above his head grazed the raw walls. He had to duck to fit it into the kitchen.From the hallway, the party rumbled like a pot coming to a simmer. Jesse arrived in the kitchen seeking napkins for the blood flowing down his face. “You’re here!” He said. “The others are already in the living room. I’ll take you.”He led the way back towards the hall, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Jesse.” A woman blocked their way. She put a hand to Jesse’s cheek. “Look at you.” ...

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“The extinction of a kitchen colony” by Fletcher Fox

Submitted to Contest #270

A trail of pheromones was left by the scouts to lead fellow colony members down the trail to the nourishment the one scout had discovered. The ant colony lived in the kitchen, specifically in the damp wooden cabinet below the sink. The false sun was still not yet overhead when the scout left the trail. Other workers soon followed it, the corpses of cockroaches (unknowingly poisoned by the giant beings that lit the false sun) being surrounded and consumed by worker ants, who had gathered after having followed the scout-created trail. Th...

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“No one saw and nothing was there” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #270

The autumn day dawned bleak, filthy with festering matter and half-lived souls clinging to existence. A patchwork of rotting leaves, long strewn by wind and time, formed a sodden carpet over the silent dank streets, where an unnameable void hung in the air, an emptiness seeking to be filled, waiting for what it sought unknown. Nothing was there on that hollow, thinly veiled November morning, looming in the cracks and crevices, dour and rotten. Nothing had been there the day before, in the unoccupied corners filled only with shad...

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“A RECIPE WITH A PINCH” by Jolanta Polk

Submitted to Contest #270

The kitchen is neat; fat-bellied copper pots glisten on hooks, dishes are stacked on a rack, an old-fashioned toaster for refreshing corn tortillas is scrubbed of all residues and shiny, and amidst them all, is she - the Queen of Lard Cakes, the Princess of Preserving Jars, the Gravy Goddess, Doña Flor. Her apron is stained with the remnants of countless culinary conquests, while her hands tell the tale of years spent crafting exquisite masterpieces. "Chop the onions into small pieces,” she whispers to herself. The white bulb of ...

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“Reverse Engineering ” by A.M. Fischer

Submitted to Contest #270

“It’s wrong,” He stood over the seventh tin tray of the evening. “Too pasty in consistency, close but off by a noticeable margin,” Five-eighths of the day prior and now one-twelfth of the present had already fallen prey to these experiments. Something was always so grossly inadequate in each. The first had been too dry. The third had marginal charing adorning the top. The fourth was the closest texture-wise but the flavor was off. Number six was too heterogeneous and now number seven lies a homogeneous mass; still. The divinity of the ...

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“Enough” by Cristine Burke

Submitted to Contest #270

“Dodge boys…we’re the Dodge boys!” Adeline wakes to the same annoyingly cheerful car jingle playing on the radio every morning at 7am. Why can’t her mother ever listen to a different station? Classic rock? Reggae? Hell, she’d even settle for smooth jazz at this point. She drags herself out of her warm bed, throws on a sweatshirt, slides into her beat-up Birkenstocks and trudges down the hallway toward the kitchen. As she enters, the overhead, fluorescent light casts a blinding glare in her half-opened eyes. Once fully awake, she su...

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$250

Prize money

336

Contest entries

133

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Oct 04, 2024 EST

Won by Jay Wayne 🏆

Title: Add Vodka to Taste

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

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