Free Stir It Up by Ramin Ganeshram Page A

water and put the leaves in the ice water. When they are cool, about 30 seconds, remove and lay them carefully on folded paper towels.
    6. Make the lemon confit: Cut the lemon into 1/4-inch slices. Carefully remove theseeds and then chop the slices into small chunks. Place the lemon chunks in a small saucepan with the remaining sugar or honey and 1/3 cup of water. Bring the mixture to a boil and then reduce temperature to bring to a low simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes or until almost all the water has evaporated. Set aside to cool.
    7. Make the rolls: Brush the callaloo leaves evenly with sesame seed oil and divide the rice equally among the leaves. Carefully smooth the rice evenly over each leaf, taking care not to tear the leaf.
    8. Slice the cooled salmon lengthwise into 4 equal pieces. Place the salmon on top of the rice, toward the edge of the leaf. Repeat with all four leaves. Spoon the lemon confit equally onto each piece of salmon, spooning the mixture down the length of the piece of salmon.
    9. Roll the leaf carefully away from you as if you are making a cigar. Try to make the roll fairly tight. Repeat with all four rolls.
    10. Place the rolls seam side down on a cutting board and slice them into 1-inch-wide pieces. Serve with a side of soy sauce and wasabi mustard, if desired.
    Serves 4 to 6

CHAPTER NINE
Furious
    On the Sunday evening right after test day my family sits around our dinner table. It’s rare for us all to be eating together at the same time. Mom has finished studying, and our restaurant is closed because Dad and Anand have repainted the walls, which are still wet.
    “Ma, you sure have some sweet hand,” Dad says to Deema between bites of the duck curry Deema’s made for dinner.
    We’re all talking at the same time, but about different things. Deema’s telling Dad about her secret for duck curry and rice — the foods that cover our Sunday dinner table. Mom’s talking about her next nursing exam. Anand won’t shut up about a new video game that’s taken him to level seven.
    Dishes clink. I’m quiet, thinking while everyone else eats, talks, talks, talks, and fills the room with the spice of our conversation. Mom’s the first to notice that I’m all about downing Deema’s duck curry and not saying anything.
    “Anjali, child, who’s taken your tongue?” she asks. I shrug. Then she zings me with a question I don’t want to answer. “Have any of the other kids at school gotten their Stuyvesant results?” My mouth is full of rice. I don’t speak. “Some of the families in the Sovalds’ building have already got their results,” Mom says.
    It’s hard to swallow, but I manage.
    “I don’t think anyone at my school has heard from Stuyvesant,” I mumble.
    Anand says, “My friend’s brother Jason got his results.”
    My dad stops eating. “Maybe we should call the Board of Ed tomorrow, just to see where things are in the process.”
    My eyes are stuck to my plate. I take a deep breath.
    “Dad,” I say softly, then look from my father to Deema, “I have something to say.” I put down my fork. “You don’t have to call the Board of Ed. I didn’t get in to Stuyvesant.”
    “Why didn’t you tell us? Where’s the letter?” Dad wants to know.
    “There wasn’t a letter.”
    “How yuh mean there wasn’t a letter?” Dad’s voice is rising.
    There’s disappointment on Dad’s face. Mom’s, too. Deema folds her arms. She’s looking at me curiously.
    “I never took the test,” I whisper.
    “What?”
Mom looks like I’ve told her there’s a rat in the room.
    Anand leans across the table. “Whoa.”
    “I never took it. I went to the tryout for the Food Network show instead,” I admit.
    “How yuh mean?” my dad says. There’s anger in his voice.
    “The tryout at the Food Network for the
Super Chef Kids
show.” I’m talking fast and furious. “I know you said no, but this is the chance of a lifetime to get my own TV show. I can take the Stuyvesant test next year.”