He paused, fidgeting with the collection of ceramic fowl on Danielle’s desk. He moved the single white chicken out of the circle of colorful roosters and hopped her across the gigantic planner on her desktop, toward me.
“How about between us? Are we okay? I had the feeling that you were really disappointed the other day.” He bit his lip, his expression all concerned.
“You know what?” I said. “I’m really fine. I would have called things off first, but I was afraid to hurt your feelings. Afraid to give you one more sorry bit of news in your life. With your mom so sick, I hated to break the news that you were a lousy boyfriend, too.” The one zinger slipped out before I could bite it back, so I tried to make up for it by flashing a real smile. “But I’m looking forward to working with you. One thing I’m not letting go without a big fight, and that’s my job at Key Zest. I love this magazine, and Palamina’s not the only girl with great ideas and dreams for where we could go with it.”
“Good,” he said, a mixture of relief and sadness on his face. “Great. I want you on the team.” He looked like he was going to either hug me or start to cry, and either one would feel unbearably sad. So I bolted.
As I arrived at the dog park on my scooter, across from the beach and Saluté, the restaurant where we’d held Connie’s shower last year, Torrence pulled up in a squad car. He rolled the window down and pushed his sunglasses to his forehead. I got off the scooter and pocketed the key.
“What the H-E-double-L are you doing up so early? I thought you were supposed to be home taking it easy.”
“Too antsy to stay home.” I gave a sheepish shrug. “Besides, I’m meeting Bransford.”
“Crap,” he said. “Not him again. That guy is a sack of snakes, a nest of hornets, a—”
I cut him off. “I’m only going out with him once, see where it goes. Have coffee first, and then maybe lunch. Take it nice and slow. I know he acts like a jerk sometimes, but I don’t believe that’s the real him.”
“You’ve told me a hundred times that he’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.”
I blushed. “I think he’s rude and brusque because he’s trying to cover up the fact that he really does care about me. Besides, he makes my synapses crackle,” I said, feeling a silly grin spread over my face.
“You’re beginning to sound like a pulp romance novel,” he said. “Don’t you know that bad wiring equals burned girls?”
“But—”
“Have you ever tried electroconvulsive shock treatment, the kind that fries your brains?” Torrence asked. “Have you ever stuck your finger into a light socket while soaking in a tub? That’s what dating Bransford would be like.”
“But—”
“Have you ever tried to jump-start a car? But you touched the wrong terminal when you were connecting the cable to your battery and got blasted half to kingdom come? That’s what dating Bransford would be like.”
A little corner of me agreed. I had been singed by him before. And we still had to deal with the issue of his ex. Was she gone for good or simply waiting in the wings, ready to pounce if he drew closer to me?
“I could set you up with a nice man,” Torrence continued. “Remember last winter, when Officer Ryan helped find your brother? He broke up with his girlfriend not too long ago. And he asks after you all the time.”
The very same Officer Ryan who’d walked me into the school library a couple of days ago. He was adorable and sweet, but at this point, I practically had a master’s degree in identifying sparks. In this case, there were none. Not one. Nothing but warm, brotherly feelings.
The wire gate separating the big dog pen from the little dog pen squeaked open; then the main gate opened. Ziggy darted across the grass and leaped into my arms, all shiny fur and squiggling angles. He lapped my chin with his pink tongue. The anti-cat. Evinrude would despise him. Bransford followed the dog out and stalked over to where I stood next to Torrence’s car. He hadn’t shaved and he wore a ratty sleeveless T-shirt, half-soaked with sweat. I felt an immediate charge.
Lieutenant Torrence glared at Bransford and then pulled his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. “It’s possible—no, it’s likely—that I’ll kill you if you screw things up,” he said to Bransford, tipping his chin at me. And then he rolled his window up and drove away.
Recipes
Raspberry Cake
Hayley imagines this cake could seal the deal with Wally on Valentine’s Day. I think it would have, too—if only he’d tasted a bite before storming off the houseboat.
Serves 6–12, depending on the size of the slices
Cake
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1¾ cups cake flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 cups sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
2 sticks unsalted butter, softened but still cool, cut into cubes
4 eggs, room temperature
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon almond extract
Frosting
1 (8-ounce) block cream cheese
1 stick unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
Confectioners’ sugar
2 boxes fresh raspberries—about 30 for the frosting, and 40 or so for decoration
3 to 4 tablespoons good-quality raspberry jam
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Prepare two 9-inch cake pans by buttering them well, lining with parchment, and then buttering the parchment, too.
To make the cake, combine the flours, baking powder, sugar, and salt in the bowl of an electric mixer and mix at low speed. Add the butter, a few cubes at a time, and continue beating on low for 1 to 2 minutes. Beat the eggs in one at a time, mixing well but minimally after each.
Mix the milk with the extracts.
Add ½ cup of the milk mixture to the flour mixture and beat until combined. Add the remaining ½ cup of the milk mixture and beat for about 1 minute.
Pour the batter evenly into the two prepared cake pans.
Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the cake springs back when touched, in the neighborhood of 25 minutes. Watch this, because you don’t want to overbake.
Cool the cakes in the pans for 10 minutes. Then remove the cakes, one to a plate and the other to waxed or parchment paper, and allow them to cool to room temperature.
Meanwhile, prepare the frosting by beating together the cream cheese and butter. Add the vanilla and confectioners’ sugar to taste. (I used about 1 cup of sugar.) Now gradually beat in about 30 raspberries until your desired pink color is achieved.
Spread one of the cooled cakes with a layer of frosting, then a layer of jam.
Layer on the other cake. Frost the top and sides and decorate with the remaining berries. Refrigerate until serving.
Once in a Blue Moon Blue Cornmeal Blueberry Pancakes with Cinnamon Butter
I first tasted pancakes like this at the Hell’s Backbone Grill in Boulder, Utah. When I couldn’t get them off my mind, I knew I had to try to recreate the recipe. They are wonderful with cinnamon butter and real maple syrup, but also good and filling with plain yogurt, some chopped almonds, and maple syrup. They make even a gloomy day a little better.
This recipe should serve four.
11/3 cups blue cornmeal*
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1½ cups buttermilk (or 1½ cups milk with 1 tablespoon vinegar added)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 tablespoons melted butter, plus more for greasing the griddle
2 cups blueberries
*If you’d prefer a little lighter batter, use 1 cup blue cornmeal instead of 11/3 cups and 1 cup flour instead of 2/3 cup.
Cinnamon Butter
2 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon sugar
Stir together the blue cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar in a large mixing bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, vanilla, and 4 tablespoons melted butter. Add the buttermilk mixture to the blue cornmeal mixture and stir until mostly combined. Heat the pan or griddle and melt some butter to cover the bottom of the skillet. Add the batter to the pan (about ¼ cup per pancake) and drop 5 or 6 blueberries into each pancake. Cook over medium heat until bubbles form and pop on the top, and then flip the pancakes over and cook the other side for 1 to 2 minutes. Keep the finished pancakes in a warm (200°F) oven until all the batter is cooked. To make the cinnamon butter, combine the butter, cinnamon, and sugar until the mixture is uniform. Serve with a small scoop of cinnamon butter plus real maple syrup.
Nocciolata Fudge
What can I say? I’m not even a fudge lover, but I’m crazy for this recipe. Everyone else will be, too!
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips (make these good quality, as it will show)
1 cup Nocciolata (organic chocolate-hazelnut spread; I used the whole 9½-ounce jar)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into ½-inch pieces
½ teaspoon sea salt or pink salt
Line an 8 x 8 inch pan with two layers of parchment paper, overlapping the sides.
In a stainless steel bowl, stir together the sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, chocolate chips, hazelnut spread, and butter. Put an inch of water in a saucepan and bring it to a simmer.
Place the bowl over the pot of simmering water. (The bowl should not touch the water.)
Stir until the chocolate chips are melted and the mixture is smooth, 5 to 7 minutes.
Scrape the mixture into the papered pan, smooth the top, and sprinkle with sea salt. (Use pink sea salt if you have it on hand—so pretty!)
Refrigerate until the fudge is firm, at least 2 hours.
Lift the fudge out of the pan using the parchment paper. Cut the fudge into bite-sized pieces and arrange on a pretty plate. Store leftovers (if there are any) in an airtight container in the fridge. The fudge can also be made ahead and frozen.
Chicken Enchiladas in Tomatillo Sauce
Hayley’s favorite thing to make with green tomatillos is an enchilada sauce. It isn’t hard and it freezes just fine, so if you make extra, you can save half and freeze it for a winter supper. These yummy enchiladas don’t take long, especially if you have access to half a roasted chicken.
The dish serves 4, or 2 with leftovers.
Green Sauce
15 or so medium tomatillos, paper husks removed and tomatillos washed (You can include a few green tomatoes if you’re short on the tomatillos.)
1 onion, quartered
1 to 3 cloves garlic
2 cups organic chicken broth (or homemade, of course, if you have that lying around)
½ bunch cilantro, washed well, stems removed, coarsely chopped (This yields about ¾ cup. I know some folks don’t like cilantro—and I’m sorry for you; I think you could substitute parsley.)
Place the tomatillos, onion, garlic, and chicken broth in a pan and simmer for about 10 minutes, until the veggies are soft.
Cool and then pulse the broth and veggies in a food processor, adding the cilantro at the end. The sauce should not be entirely smooth but rather a little chunky in texture. Set that aside. If you’re cooking the enchiladas right away, oil a 9 x 13 inch pan and pour enough sauce in to generously cover the bottom of the pan. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Enchiladas
1 onion, halved and sliced (white is fine but red is prettier)
2 to 3 green or red bell peppers, halved and sliced
Olive oil
½ roasted chicken, deboned, skinned, and shredded
4 to 5 ounces cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese, shredded, plus more for topping
½ cup sour cream or Greek yogurt, plus more for serving
1 package (about 8) tortillas (whole wheat tastes just as good as white and is better for you)
Sauté the onion and peppers in a teaspoon of olive oil until soft. Then combine them with the chicken, cheese, and sour cream. Spread a heaping spoonful down the center of each tortilla and roll tightly into little tubes. Nestle these into the sauce in the pan. Top with a little extra shredded cheese and a tablespoon or two of the green sauce. Bake for ½ hour or until bubbly. Serve with an extra dollop of sour cream if desired and a nice green salad.
Winter Walnut and Spinach Pesto
In wintertime, even in tropical Key West, vegetables are not at their best. Miss Gloria keeps a few pots of herbs and tomatoes on the deck of the houseboat so their food always has a touch of summer.
If you have the ingredients on hand, this is a super-fast meal that can be on the table in thirty minutes and looks as if you’ve been cooking all day. I serve it with a mixed green salad with winter radishes and some cherry tomatoes. We love this version of pesto—I think that the addition of the spinach tones down the sharpness of the basil just enough.
Serves 4
1 large garlic clove
3 ounces walnuts
3 to 4 ounces good-quality Parmesan
2 large sprigs basil, about 10 leaves
3 ounces fresh spinach
¼ to ½ cup olive oil
Salt and pepper
In a food processor, whir the garlic for 30 seconds, and then add the walnuts and Parmesan in succession. Add the basil and spinach and process until almost smooth. Pour in the olive oil, continuing to pulse until absorbed. Add salt and pepper to taste.
To serve, cook ¾ pound of good-quality Italian pasta until al dente (just soft) and drain. (I have gotten addicted to the pasta sold at Eataly in New York City. You can buy their products online. Yes, the pasta is three times as expensive as supermarket spaghetti, but it is honestly light-years better.) Add the pesto to the pasta in a large bowl and mix thoroughly. That’s it!
Baklava
Quite a few years ago, I was asked to help our son’s elementary school class make baklava, when they were studying food from various countries around the world. Though I’ve always been a fan of this pastry, I had never had the nerve to try making it myself. Believe me, if a group of schoolkids can make it, anyone can. The only problem we had was discovering occasional brush bristles in the finished pastry—this I blame on poor-quality pastry brushes and intense paint strokes. Hayley gets around this by using a silicone brush.
1 pound walnuts or mixture of pistachios and walnuts (I used 1/3 salted pistachios and 2/3 walnuts), plus roughly ground pistachios for garnish
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1-pound package phyllo dough, thawed overnight, then brought to room temperature
3 sticks unsalted butter, melted
12 ounces honey
Preheat the oven to 325°F. Butter a 13 x 9 inch baking dish.
Chop the nuts finely in a food processor and then add the sugar and cinnamon and pulse to combine. Set this aside.
Remove the phyllo dough from the package and unroll it on a clean counter. Into the baking dish layer eight of the phyllo sheets, one at a time, buttering each sheet with a pastry brush dipped in the melted butter.
While you work, cover the remaining sheets of phyllo with a damp towel so they don’t dry out. (Don’t sweat any little tears—they won’t show up in the end.)
Pour 1 cup of the nut mixture over the eight layers of phyllo and spread it evenly to the edges. Continue to layer eight more sheets of dough, painting each with melted butter.
Spread another cup of the nut mixture over the top. Repeat the layers and the nut mixture until all the nuts are used, ending with eight layers of phyllo.
With a sharp knife, cut the baklava into diamond shapes. Bake for 45 minutes, or until golden.
Remove the dish from the oven and drizzle honey over the dough until it does not abs
orb any further. (I used a full 12-ounce jar of local honey.) Sprinkle with some ground-up pistachios if you like that look. (I did.)
Let it cool at room temperature for 6 hours or overnight, well wrapped. Then serve. Oh, the agony of waiting! But it’s worth it. My guests told me this was the best baklava they had ever eaten. My hub and I had to agree. (There’s no need to refrigerate the finished pastry unless you plan to keep it around more than a few days.)
Read on for a sneak peek at
KILLER TAKEOUT
the next in the national bestselling Key West Food Critic Mysteries, coming in April 2016 from Obsidian.
Resident islanders couldn’t remember a hotter Key West summer. Not only hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, they agreed, but hot enough to crisp bacon, too. So far, the advent of fall was bringing no relief. Today’s temperature registered ninety-three degrees and climbing—fierce-hot for October, with the humidity as dense as steam from my grandmother’s kettle. And the local news anchor promised it would get hotter as the week continued, along with the party on Duval Street.
Me? I’d rather eat canned sardines from China than march down Key West’s Duval Street wearing not much more than body paint. But a hundred thousand out-of-town revelers didn’t agree. They were arriving on the island this week to do just that—or watch it happen—during Fantasy Fest, the celebration taking place during the ten days leading up to Halloween, including a slew of adult-themed costume parties, culminating in a massive and rowdy parade.
Worst of all, the Weather Channel was tracking the path of a tropical storm in the eastern Caribbean. They had already begun to mutter semihysterical recommendations: Visitors should prepare to head up the Keys to the mainland and take refuge in a safer area. But based on the crowds I’d seen, no one was listening. These hordes weren’t leaving until the event was over. Besides, with a four-hour drive to Miami on a good-traffic day, getting all those people out would be like trying to squeeze ketchup back into a bottle. Might as well party.
Since no right-minded local resident would attempt to get near a restaurant this week, I had fewer food critic duties at my workplace, the style magazine Key Zest. I was looking forward to covering some of the tamer Fantasy Fest events for the magazine, including the Zombie Bike Ride, the locals’ parade, and a pet masquerade contest. And since restaurants were my beat, I’d promised my bosses an article on reliable takeout food, too. If that didn’t keep me busy enough, my own mother, Janet Snow, and Sam, her fiancé, were arriving for the week to visit with my dear friend Connie’s new baby, and then get themselves hitched on the beach.
Fatal Reservations : A Key West Food Critic Mystery (9780698192003) Page 24
