BooksBarbecue
Back Salt and Sugar
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. EPILOGUE
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In the end, Cintia agrees to send in her application—she can decide later whether she’ll compete or not in December—but at least she’s taking this first step toward her dream with Pimentel’s support.

When we leave the office, Cintia looks like she’s floating. The bell rings, ending recess, but before I head to my class and Cintia to hers, she stops me.

“Lari, you said you’re struggling with your college decisions, but what about Salt?”

What about Salt?

It’s like she read my mind.

She continues, “You clearly love baking. You’ve never considered becoming a baker? Applying to culinary school? Working at Salt?”

“I’m too cursed in the kitchen to follow in my family’s footsteps. I’m probably going to study economics... I mean, even if I don’t totally care for it, that’s what my mom wants for me.”

Cintia crosses her arms over her chest. “For someone who feels that way, you sure have a special relationship with cooking and baking. Maybe you’re just scared to admit it, Lari. Maybe you’re anxious about trying something new and challenging. Trust me, I get it. But don’t you think cooking would make you happy? Happier than becoming an accountant, at least? I’ve seen you in the kitchen. You always come to life. Much more than when you participated in those mathematics contests.”

My brow furrows as I consider her words. “But shouldn’t I follow a career in something I’m already good at? I don’t have my grandmother’s fairy hands, so how could I ever be a baker? How could I ever apply to culinary school?”

She sighs.

“You don’t need them to cook. And they’re definitely not a requirement for you to apply to study cooking, at least.” She winks at me. “The only thing you need to do is send in your application.”

32

SATURDAY, JUNE 4

“Surprise!” Mom shouts when we turn the corner.

A sign featuring UFPE in big block letters lies ahead of us. The Federal University of Pernambuco. I’m speechless, and I wish it were for the right reason. I have a weird feeling like there’s a beeping device screaming I’m about to run out of oxygen.

“I thought it was time we visit the campus together,” she says with a smile. “Did I surprise you?”

When Mom had asked me to come with her to Recife, I jumped at the opportunity. I know she’s been busy prepping for the catering event next weekend, and I figured maybe it was her way of saying she needed a quick break this Saturday morning.