by penny watson
“Salmon with whisky-maple glaze, surrounded by a trio of colors—peas with mint, carrots with maple and thyme, and neeps and tatties with nutmeg and parsley. Green, orange, white. And we can put the salmon on a bed of risotto and mushrooms.”
Elliott frowned. He tapped his pencil on the table. “I love the trio of colors. And the fact that you’re incorporating more Scottish dishes. But I don’t do risotto.”
“I do.” Emilia raised her hand. “I love making risotto. I have the patience to do it.”
Sophia slid an arm around her oldest daughter’s shoulders. “She does. And she’s great at it.”
Elliott released a slow hiss. The entire contest was on the line, and he was relinquishing control. During the most important meal of his life. Sophia watched his gaze dart back and forth among the three women. He finally closed his eyes and nodded.
“Very well, don’t fuck up.”
Emilia and Cady laughed.
“What about me? I’m good at desserts,” Cady grabbed the pencil from Elliott. “How about this?” She scribbled a little drawing on his notebook.
He smiled. “Hmm. I like it, Cady. I like it a lot.”
“Show us,” Emilia demanded.
Elliott turned the page so they could all see. Cady had drawn a goblet filled with layers of peaches and brown sugar and rum and shortbread crumbs, topped with maple whipped cream.
“I love the Scottish shortbread in here. Let’s add a cookie to the top.” Elliott drew that onto the picture.
“I’ll make some candied violets for a garnish. It will look spectacular. And since Elliott has now been trained, he can be my sous-chef.” Cady smirked.
Elliott chuckled and patted Cady on the head. “Nice try. I approve of the candied violets, especially since Jenny will adore that idea.” He added some more notations onto the menu. “And let’s cut the richness of this meal with a little palate cleanser between the entrée and dessert. How about tipsy oranges?”
“Oh. That sounds good. How do you make that?” Sophia leaned closer to him, needing to feel his heat. He pressed his arm against hers, instinctively reacting to her needs. How had this happened so fast? This connection between them?
“Easiest thing in the world. Section the orange, drizzle Drambuie on top, sprinkle some brown sugar on there and broil quickly to get the sugar bubbling. Add some fresh mint. A quick, refreshing stop before Cady’s decadent dessert.” He glanced at Sophia. “What say you, Beauty? Do I get your seal of approval?”
“Aye, Beast, you do.” She ignored Cady and Emilia’s snickers. “I think we better get to work. We have a lot to do.”
He nodded at her again. His relaxed expression made Sophia feel settled and self-assured. She had finally earned his trust.
Elliott ripped off a couple of pages from his notebook and handed them to the girls. “Here are the lists. We knock things off one at a time. If there are any problems, check with me right away. Don’t try to wing it. I don’t like winging it.”
“What about your individual courses?” Cady asked.
“Em and I will work on that on our own. And you and Sophia will do the same.”
Emilia put her fist in the middle of their huddle. “Game time. Let’s do this.”
Cady added her fist on top, and then Sophia. And finally Elliott with an off-center smile. “Let’s Go Team Grumpy Scottish Bastard.”
“And Team Beauty and the Beast,” Sophia added.
“Beauties. I’m surrounded by three beauties.” Elliott clucked. “I just hope you three beauties know how to cook. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty
If there had ever been a surreal moment in Sophia’s life, this was it. With an audience watching her every move, cameras in her face, Mr. Smith bobbing around the set with exaggerated enthusiasm, and a flawless blue sky overhead. It was difficult to reconcile the peacefulness of a perfect August day in Vermont with the anxiety of this television show. She was worried for Elliott, anxious for her daughters, and nervous about her own performance.
As she prepared her meal, she sneaked glances at Elliott and Emilia. At first Elliott was strictly business, chopping and fussing and barking orders. But Emilia dished it right back. She teased and mocked, and eventually Sophia was shocked to see Elliott smile. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile while he cooked during the show. But he and Emilia were working out some sort of partnership.
Cady ran to the garden and gathered fresh thyme and mint. She grated the nutmeg, chopped the parsley, all the while chattering and laughing and reminding Sophia that this moment was just part of the whole. In the grand scheme of things, not as important as other moments. Surprisingly, Sophia began to enjoy the cooking. Knowing that Cady was with her and Emilia had Elliott’s back took away a huge chunk of anxiety.
Her sweet little girls, searching for mermaids and seashells, were all grown up. They’d turned into thoughtful, kind adults with insights about life and living that made Sophia proud to be their parent.
“So, Sophia, how is it working out with you and Cady?” Mr. Smith leaned over their worktable. “Everything looks delicious.”
“We’re doing very well, thank you. Cady is an enthusiastic cook.”
“And how about Elliott and Emilia? Can she handle the Beast? That’s a tall order.”
Elliott was stirring the maple glaze on the stovetop and instructing Em about the consistency. Sophia thought they were adorable. Evidently, so did Mr. Smith. He had the camera crew hustle over to their table.
“Emilia, is the Beast giving you some cooking pointers?” Mr. Smith asked.
Emilia nodded. “Uh-huh. I just wanted to pour the whole bottle of whisky in there, but Elliott said we had to save some for later. For drinking, of course.”
Sophia bit her lip to keep from laughing, but Cady burst out giggling.
Mr. Smith didn’t know what to do. Elliott saved him the trouble.
“Naughty. I’ll take that.” Elliott removed the whisky bottle from Emilia’s hands and put it back under the table. He looked at Sophia and raised an eyebrow.
Sophia smiled back. Emilia had managed to get Elliott relaxed for the final challenge. God bless her wonderful daughter.
The remaining hours flew by. After finishing their main course and dessert, she and Cady prepared her extra dish. Sophia had decided to make the girls’ favorite dinner—beef tenderloin with peppercorn sauce. Soon enough they were plating and rushing back and forth to the huge banquet table set up in the courtyard. Pouring wine and adjusting garnishes and offering smiles to the judges.
The ambience of this meal was Sophia’s idea of romance. The table was draped with ivory linen and topped with glass jars of flowers. Bouquets of Rosa rugosa and Queen Anne’s lace were nestled among votives and bottles of wine. The local glassblower had provided an assortment of pottery dishes and hand-blown goblets. Strands of white lights dangled from the surrounding trees.
She and Elliott and the girls plated together, having reached some sort of exhausted Zen state. Emilia scooped the risotto, Elliott placed the salmon on top, Sophia added the three tiny sides shaped with a round cookie cutter. Elliott drizzled his sauce onto the final product. He brushed his shoulder against Sophia each time, needing that physical connection. The plates looked exquisite, artistic. Perfect.
She tried to ignore the overwhelming stress of the moment and focus on the food. Cady and Emilia added garnishes—fresh herbs and flowers. And Cady had a whole sheet of candied violets ready to sprinkle on their dessert. It made Elliott laugh and tease them all about being a family of garden sprites. When they finally got to the head of the table and faced a sea of critics, Sophia felt confident about their choices. They’d prepared a beautiful meal that successfully showcased Elliott’s love for Scottish tradition, local Vermont products, and the Brown family’s love of fresh vegetables and herbs. All the components had meshed together into one cohesive meal.
She still did not know the identity of Elliott’s “secret” bonus dish. That was
hidden from sight.
Chef Baldwin and Kevin also seemed pleased with their results. Sophia sent Kevin a reassuring smile, and he nodded at her. Michael caught her eye with a death stare. Evidently she was no longer on his “friend” list.
Mr. Smith stood at the head of the table and lifted his wine glass. “To all of our judges, guests, and critics this evening . . . welcome! What a feast our contestants have prepared for us. I am truly touched and impressed by the talent I’m seeing tonight. And I think we can all agree that having this gorgeous Vermont setting as a backdrop for our finale is the icing on the heavenly cake.”
Elliott reached over and squeezed Sophia’s hand. “Save me from another bad food pun, please.”
Sophia laughed. She reached for Cady’s hand, and soon she and her daughters and Elliott were all linked, hand-in-hand, awaiting the final judgment. She turned to look at Elliott, to see how he was doing, and she was surprised to find him leaning down and laughing at a comment from Cady. His bright white teeth flashed from that luscious beard, and then his gaze found hers. And at that moment, Sophia realized winning the contest had ceased to be the all-consuming goal. This was the moment she’d been working towards.
A moment of happiness, pure and simple.
Her senses were no longer muted. The sky was as blue as a field of lupine, the fragrance of rugosa roses filled the air, the rough touch of Elliott’s fingers made her heart flutter and race, the taste of maple was sweet on her tongue. All of these things, these simple things that had washed away from her life had come back. Did she still want to win?
She wanted to win for Elliott. Because he needed it. But for her, it was no longer necessary. Was it possible that this surreal experience was binding together the edges of the gaping hole of her life? Perhaps it was.
“Judges, what are your thoughts about tonight’s dinner?” Mr. Smith sat down at the head of the table as the judges commenced their critique.
“What a wonderful way to celebrate maple syrup and Vermont!” Chef Rutgers stood and faced the contestants. “Maple pairs beautifully with salmon—which was cooked perfectly by the way, Chef Adamson—and is a favorite Scottish dish. I love that you combined the Vermont product with your Scottish traditions. And Chefs Baldwin and Holt used their maple syrup to create an inspired barbecue marinade for their sirloin steaks. Another winner.”
Tarquin also stood. “I agree with Jonathan. Both of the entrees were splendid. I adored the sides contributed by Sophia and her daughter—the trio of colors and textures and tastes. Also with a nod to Scottish cooking, but clearly utilizing the fresh vegetables from our own courtyard garden. Very, very nice, Sophia.” Chef Bailey saluted them.
Cady hugged Sophia and squealed with happiness.
Jenny walked over to the contestants and offered everyone a kiss on the cheek. She was clearly attempting a “warm, homey” feeling as the amateur representative. The chefs tolerated the gesture, but Sophia could tell that everyone was anxious to get on with the judging.
Jenny patted her stomach. “What a meal! I loved both of the entrees and all of the sides. Including the contrast of the spicy slaw and corn with Chef Baldwin’s meal. As a southern gal, I can totally get behind that kind of heat.” She winked.
Michael and Kevin high-fived each other.
“But I have to admit that the real star of the show for me was dessert. Although the maple ice cream from Team Baldwin and Holt was creamy and decadent, the peach-shortbread trifle from Team Beauty and the Beast was an absolute show-stopper. With the rum and the maple whipped cream and the precious candied violets. Oh my Lord! I could not get enough of that.”
Elliott released a half laugh-half sob and turned to hug Cady. He lifted her into the air and she squeaked out loud.
“Beast! Put me down!”
Sophia and Em laughed.
Elliott slipped his arm around Sophia’s daughters. “Beautiful and they can cook. Thank the good God.”
“I have to agree about dessert. Chef Adamson’s dish came out on top this time,” Jonathan said.
“But we haven’t discussed the individual courses,” Tarquin added, looking amused. “This contest just keeps getting better and more entertaining.”
Jenny shook her head. “If you say so.”
Uh-oh. What now? Sophia glanced at Elliott. He had a determined expression on his face. And stubborn. That look made her nervous.
Jonathan lifted a napkin covering the individual plates for Team Baldwin and Holt. They had prepared two more beef dishes. Sophia bit her lip. She hoped her tenderloin would be able to stack up against these.
“Two lovely beef contributions from our all-male team,” he said. And then he lifted the other napkin.
He didn’t.
He did.
Sophia saw her delicate slices of tenderloin, nestled in a sauce with multi-colored peppercorns, right next to a plate with a plump piece of haggis.
He did.
The stomach was split open on the plate, exposing the haggis inside.
“Chef Adamson used a mixture of beef, lamb, and pancetta for his haggis. And of course the sheep stomach for presentation.” Jonathan let out a hearty chuckle. “God bless you, Adamson. I didn’t think you’d go for it, but you did. And I have to say this was absolutely delicious. The best haggis I’ve ever tasted.”
Tarquin approached Elliott and shook his hand. “Delicious twist on haggis. Well-played.”
Jenny smiled at the final four contestants. “I loved all of the beef dishes, especially Michael’s meatballs and Sophia’s wonderful tenderloin.” She glared at Elliott. “However, I was not as impressed with the haggis as my fellow judges. I’m all about dressing up your dinner, remember? And haggis is just not attractive. It’s not tasty, in my humble opinion, and it certainly isn’t nice to look at. Dear Lord.” Jenny grimaced for the camera and the audience laughed.
Sophia was afraid to look at Elliott, but when she finally glanced his way, she was surprised to see a look of triumph on his face. This was his moment. The quintessential Scottish dish, laid open on the plate for their entire television audience. And at least two of the judges loved it.
It was a bold move. A courageous move. An utterly fearless choice.
Mr. Smith turned to Emilia. “Just curious. What did you think about this Scottish delicacy?”
“I loved it. It tastes like liver. My mom used to make us liverwurst and cream cheese sandwiches when we were little. It was nostalgic for me. And Elliott is so proud of his heritage, it was wonderful to see him prepare this traditional Scottish dish. Anyone can make meatballs.”
Chef Baldwin glared at Emilia, but Elliott’s expression stopped him cold. Sophia knew right at that moment that he would do anything to protect her daughters, and she felt the threads tighten a little bit more on her wounds. Was it possible that she was finally healing?
Harold Smith walked to the front of the table like a monarch overlooking his kingdom. With its silly little flags and scurrying cameramen to capture every moment, every disappointment, and the thrill of victory. “Finally, the decision we’ve been working towards all week. Which pair came out on top tonight? Judges? What say you?”
Tarquin, Jonathan, and Jenny joined their producer in front of the audience. It was a tense moment, but Sophia could only focus on one thing. Elliott. He was still as stone and barely breathing. She squeezed his hand, and he turned to look at her, releasing a long, slow breath.
“Thank you, Sophia.”
“Thank you, Elliott.”
“Hey. What about me? What am I? Chopped liver?” Emilia fake punched Elliott in the side.
He chuckled. “You did fine, Daughter Number One. Just fine. And you, too, Cady. Beautiful dessert, sweetheart.”
Both of the girls smiled. They were sparkling for the cameras with their tousled black curls and dark eyes and spattering of freckles. Sophia’s daughters captured that lovely feeling somewhere between the innocence and exuberance of youth and the adult-like comprehension of the gravity
of this moment.
“One of these pairs found the magic. That magic in the kitchen when two different points of view mesh into one perfect meal.” Tarquin’s bow tie was bright orange tonight.
Jonathan clasped his hands behind his back. “And one of these meals managed to showcase rich cultural traditions with fresh ingredients and creativity.”
Sophia was sure that Elliott had stopped breathing altogether. She was afraid he would turn blue and fall over on the table. She inched closer to him.
“For me, this partnership took everything to the next level with beautiful presentation and color and whimsy. Not only was the meal well-dressed, but ultimately, it was delicious, too. Which is obviously the most important part of our dinner. Right?” Jenny winked at the camera.
Sophia wondered what she had up her sleeve. She seemed way too perky.
Mr. Smith placed the flag on the table beside him. “I’m pleased to announce our favorite pair this evening.” He shot the finalists a last, knowing smile. “Congratulations to Elliott and Sophia, who managed to combine Scottish and American flavors into a stunning meal.”
For one moment, the silence was deafening. And then all hell broke loose. Cady jumped into the air and screamed. Emilia threw her arms around Elliott’s neck and began to cry. The audience cheered and waved their blue and white flags, chanting and clapping as a fuming Chef Baldwin and his partner stepped back.
“Mom! Oh my God!” Cady grabbed her mother. “I told you! I told you! I knew you could do it.”
The girls and Sophia laughed hysterically, and finally Sophia touched Elliott’s arm.
He nodded once at her. His eyes were bright, searching hers. “Thank you. All of you.” He took all three Brown girls and pulled them close.
Cady and Emilia giggled.
“Haggis? Really? What were you thinking?” Sophia managed to croak out the words in spite of her tears.
“My darling, sweet Sophia. You are my best luck charm, aren’t you?” Elliott cupped her face with his giant hands and laughed. “My God, we did it. We actually fucking did it.” He kissed her on the lips in front of all the cast and crew and judges and family members, and Sophia forgot to breathe.
