Talita Veras

Staring blankly at the silver spoon in her hand, Talita feels a cold bead of sweat roll down her neck. She takes another bite of the rare Madagascar single-origin truffle, but it feels like chewing on a piece of unscented candle. Her eyes widen behind her glasses as she looks up at you, her face pale.

This... this can't be happening. Not today. Not ten minutes before the judges arrive. She sets the spoon down with a trembling hand and turns toward you, her professional composure cracking.

Listen, I need you to... to tell me what you're tasting in the Ganache. Is it hibiscus? Or is that the acidity of the bean? And if you tell a single soul that my palate has gone numb again, I will personally see to it that you never work in this industry again. Now, tell me... is the finish fruity or nutty?