2 cups dry white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc
1/4 cup tomato paste
1 can (35 oz.) peeled Italian plum tomatoes, drained and
coarsely chopped
2 cups chicken broth
12 cups cooked Great Northern beans or other small white
beans, drained
6 fully cooked or smoked chorizo (Spanish chorizo, not Mexican) or garlic sausage links,
about 1 1/2 lb. total, each halved on the diagonal
1 garlic head, halved crosswise
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus more for garnish
1 lb. baguette, cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices
Extra-virgin olive oil for brushing
Coarse sea salt, such as sel gris, for garnish
Season the pork generously with kosher salt and pepper; set aside. In the stovetop-safe insert of a slow cooker over medium-high heat, combine the canola oil and panko. Cook, stirring constantly, until the panko is toasted and golden, 4 to 6 minutes. Transfer the panko to a baking sheet and season with kosher salt and pepper. Add the bacon to the insert and cook until crisp on both sides, about 5 minutes. Drain on paper towels. Reserve the bacon fat in the insert. Add half of the pork to the insert and brown on all sides, 7 to 8 minutes total. Transfer to a platter. Repeat with the remaining pork. Add the onions and 1 tsp. kosher salt to the insert and cook, stirring occasionally, until golden brown and softened, about 7 minutes. Add the wine and simmer until reduced by half, about 8 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste, tomatoes and broth. Remove the insert from the heat and add the beans, pork, chorizo and garlic.
Place the insert on the slow-cooker base, cover and cook on low until the pork pulls apart easily with a fork, 9 to 10 hours. Skim off the fat, and remove and discard the garlic. Fold in the panko and the 1/4 cup parsley. Adjust the seasonings with kosher salt and pepper.
Position a rack in the lower third of an oven and preheat the broiler. Brush the baguette slices with olive oil. Arrange the slices, oiled side up, on top of the cassoulet, overlapping them. Broil until golden brown, 4 to 6 minutes.
Let the cassoulet stand at room temperature for about 30 minutes before serving. Sprinkle each serving with the reserved bacon, sea salt and parsley. Serves 8 to 10.
Adapted from a recipe by Thomas Keller, Chef/Owner, The French Laundry.
That night, lying in bed next to Derek, Nikki tried reading the latest thriller by A.K. Alexander that she’d purchased on her Kindle. No luck, because all she could think about was that damn bottle of wine, and that little part about her birthday and one of her friends possibly being a thief may have been bugging her a tad.
Derek reached over and touched her shoulder. “Hey, babe, you seem quiet tonight. Everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He started running her neck. Oh no. No way was he getting any lovin’! “I’m tired and have a headache.”
“Okay. You sure you’re okay? You’ve hardly said anything to me tonight. I know I’ve been working a lot of late hours and trying to put some new deals in place, and I am sorry. I love you so much and I promise to pay more attention to you.”
Ollie, asleep at the end of their bed, lifted his head and cocked it to the side, whining ever so slightly. “I think he’s the one who wants your attention. I am not some little girl you have to coddle. Of course you’re busy. I’m busy. We run a winery and a hotel and spa. I’m not upset with you. I just have a headache.” She knew she sounded snippy.
“Get some rest. I want you to feel better for our guests tomorrow night.”
“Speaking of the guests. Now, why is the Pearl wine so important to serve?”
“Oh, well because the old man, Mr. Jones, was a dear friend of my dad’s and my aunt’s, and he bought the last case of that wine that we ever sold. Of course it’s gone now and he asked me about it. I told him we did have a bottle here. I feel like I owe it to my father and aunt . . . and his son is the decision maker. This could be a big deal, Nik. These guys run the largest mass wholesale company in the world. They sell everything from toilet paper to dog beds to wine. It would be good growth for us, especially since the economy has been down these last few years. We put a lot into the hotel and spa, and I’m looking at other avenues to bump the bottom line.”
She nodded. Maybe she had been really selfish pouting about a birthday. He was right. They had all been working hard so that they could keep all of their employees and try to make a profit. The wine industry, like almost all industries in the country, had been hit hard, and Derek was trying to run a business his dad had started. How could she tell him that bottle of wine was missing? She couldn’t. She would have to find it. “Was there ever a second bottle of the Pearl wine left?”
“No. Just the one in The Cave cellar. Why?”
“Oh. No reason. I had thought for some reason there was.”
“No. Only one. Now what do you say I try to help you get rid of that headache?”
Tempting. Okay, her anger at his forgetfulness had dissipated some with his reasoning behind tomorrow night’s client meeting—and her guilt over the fact that the coveted bottle of wine was missing. On top of that, her husband was golden gorgeous, and he didn’t lack talent in many places—especially in the bedroom.
She rolled over and faced him, deciding that she would try momentarily to forget the fact that someone sleeping on the vineyard—someone she considered a friend—had lied and stolen from her.
Nikki searched everywhere again for the wine. She spent most of her day with Ollie at her heels—going through their personal cellar just in case, The Cave cellar, the kitchen, and the bar. The odd thing was no one seemed to be around, or were busy-busy! She had more questions for Simon who, according to Marco, had taken Violet into town to shop for a new wardrobe to wear to her new upscale, uptight school. Alyssa was conveniently busy in the tasting room and nowhere to be found when it was her break time. On top of that, Bertrand had called in sick and the sous chef was covering for him. And Derek had driven into the city to retrieve the guests and would be back close to dinner time. He still had not mentioned her birthday. It had been completely forgotten, and she planned at this point to suck it up and hope he at least did not forget their anniversary.
She would just have to tell Derek that the Pearl wine was missing. It was gone, and she did not know what had happened to it.
Nikki was sullen and depressed as she primped for the dinner. She received a text from Derek that read, “In The Cave with clients. Hurry and bring Pearl. Love you.”
Not good. Time to bite the bullet. She kissed Ollie on the top of his head. “Not gonna be fun, my friend.”
He thumped his tail and closed his eyes. His life was rough.
She slipped into an all black dress, as it seemed to fit the occasion, and put on her heels.
She walked through the first set of double doors that opened into the caves that led to The Cave dining room and headed down the staircase. On either side of the entrance were candle sconces, and soft music was piped in through speakers.
It struck her as odd that as she made her way through the twisted pathway she didn’t hear any voices or laughter echoing off the cave walls. The music would not have drowned out the chatter of festivities unless the meeting had turned more business-like behind the doors ahead of her and Derek and his potential clients were speaking in hushed tones. That had to be it, because the only thing echoing off the walls was the sound of her voice. As she came closer to the double arched wood doors that opened up into the dining room, the hairs on her arms stood up. Something was wrong. Derek had told her to come here . . . and he’d been insistent about the frigging Pearl wine that she had not found. Here she stood empty-handed. Why was it so quiet?
She opened the doors and the room was pitch black. This had to be a mistake. “Okay. I am really confused,” she said to herself.
“Surprise!” Lighting came on around her and there stood all of her friends—Simon, Marco, Alyssa, Jonah, Bertrand,
and quite a few more from around Napa, along with her husband, who wore a huge grin across his face while holding the bottle of Pearl wine.
“What the?!” She walked over to Derek who put his arm around her waist. “What is going on?” she asked.
“I am throwing you a birthday party, my beautiful wife.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I bet you thought we had forgotten.”
“I sort of did,” she replied rather chagrinned. “But what about this?” She tapped the wine in his hand.
He laughed. “Oh, the Pearl wine. Yes, well, we all know that you love a good mystery, and so I thought I would put you to the test and see if you could solve who took the bottle.”
“You mean, you were all in on this?” She pointed her finger at her friends.
Everyone nodded.
“You guys! You about drove me crazy.”
“We were just having fun, Snow White,” Simon said.
“You’re terrible. In fact, you are the most terrible for saying that we weren’t best friends anymore.”
He shrugged. “I had to play my part, and I do think I deserve an Oscar and those Gucci sunglasses!” He sidled up next to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Who is the best Nancy Drew in Napa now, Sugar? Uh huh, uh huh—you be looking at him.”
“Oh brother,” she said trying not to laugh. “You guys had me so fooled and on a wild goose chase. And I thought you were all lying to me. It was awful.”
“You didn’t solve it, did you?” Derek asked. “The mystery, I mean.”
“For a change, no I did not. You have definitely surprised me.”
“Good.” He handed the bottle to Simon. “Open it up, and let’s toast to the most amazing woman in the world. Not to mention, she’s also quite a detective.”
Nikki took the wine that Simon handed her and glanced around at her family and friends feeling fortunate to have people who loved her so much, and also feeling fortunate for once that the mystery she’d been trying to solve had not involved a dead body.
Not this time, anyway.
Enjoy an excerpt from
A KILLER MARGARITA
Out December 2012
Chapter One
“Guess where we’re going?” Derek Malveaux snuck behind his wife Nikki and wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear.
She set down the lettuce she was getting ready to rinse off to fix for dinner and turned around. “Are you taking me to dinner?” She smiled.
“Oh, it’s so much better than that. Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s go sit outside on the patio and I’ll tell you.”
“Better than dinner out?” She giggled. “This must be good. Should I get us a bottle of wine?”
“Already on the table outside, and so is your sweater. It’s a little chilly.”
“Hmm, you’ve thought of everything. My interest is piqued.”
“Good.”
They went outside onto the back porch of their ranch style farm house that crested the top of a knoll where below them was a large pond, and beyond that rows of grapevines that had been cultivated for years, in order to produce some of the best wines to come out of Napa Valley. Their Rhodesian Ridgeback, Ollie, followed them out and flopped his large self down at Nikki’s feet. A couple of ducks flew overhead and landed on the pond, a ripple effect spreading out across the water on the cool early December evening. “Ooh, it’s cold out here,” Nikki said.
“It is December,” Derek replied with a grin. “And did you know we’re expecting rain next week?”
Nikki made a face. “Good for the vines.”
“It is, but cold Christmas. Brrr.” He ran his hands up and down his arms and then wrapped them around Nikki. “It’s no coincidence I asked you to come outside into the cold and told you about the rain on the way.”
“You’re acting weird.”
He reached into his back pocket and handed her a brochure.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“This is where we’re going for the holidays.”
“What?” Nikki looked at the cover of the brochure and then opened it. “Puerto Vallarta? Oh my gosh! Really?”
He nodded. “Yes. Remember the other night when we had dinner at Costa Azul and we were talking about how delicious the food is and the margaritas and how nice it would be to just get away and sit in the sun somewhere?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“I took it to heart and got on the phone the next day and started making arrangements.”
“You are the best husband ever.” She wrapped her arms tightly around him and looked up at him. He planted his lips down on hers.
“Yoo hoo. Okay makey out session time is up. It’s time to get all rated G again, people. Little person on the premises. And what in the world are you two doing out here in the freezing cold?”
“Simon,” they said in unison.
“Your favorite brother, at your service, and tiny tot,” Derek’s brother stated.
His two-year-old daughter Violet reached out for Nikki. “Hello, baby girl. Come see Aunt Nikki. You are getting so big. Where’s your Poppy?” she asked, referring to Simon’s partner Marco. Violet called Simon “Daddy” and Marco “Poppy.”
“Poppy had to make a trek into the city. He says he had a doctor’s appointment, but he is such a bad liar. He went for Christmas presents. I just know it. Oh, what do we have here?” He pointed to the brochure in Nikki’s hand and then grabbed it. “Puerto Vallarta, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “So when we going?”
“We are not going,” Derek said. “We . . .” he pointed at Nikki and then himself, “are going on a holiday vacation. Alone.”
Simon’s lower lip sunk into an immediate pout. “Wait a minute. You’re going away for the holidays?” He shook his head. “Uh uh. No, I don’t think so. This is the first year that tiny tot even remotely understands who St. Nicholas is.”
“Santa Claus.” Violet laughed and clapped her hands. “Santa, Santa.”
“That’s right, sweetie girl, Santa,” Simon said. “But it looks like Uncle Derek and Auntie Nikki will be doing tequila shooters down south, and missing you getting the goodies out of your stocking.”
“Stocking. Tequila. Santa,” Violet said.
“Hmmm, somehow that doesn’t all work together. Look what you two made her say.”
Nikki looked at Derek imploringly. “Oh no. No. No,” he said. “I know that look. This is about you and me. Going away. Some sunshine. Fun. Fiesta time. Siesta time.”
“I know,” she said.
“You can still have all that,” Simon interrupted.
“It is Christmas, honey, and I don’t know. It just, well, it just wouldn’t really feel like Christmas without family.”
“That’s the point,” Derek said.
“Bah humbug,” Simon said.
Nikki now pouted.
“Oh God. I think I’m being ganged up on,” Derek replied. “Fine. We’ll all go.”
Simon hugged him. “You are so wonderful. Oh piñatas and tacos and what do you think they call Santa in Mexico?”
“Santa Claus,” Nikki said.
“Santa Claus,” Simon repeated with a Mexican accent. “I was going to mooch some dinner off the two of you, but I think I’ll order a pizza and go see if I can find my poncho.”
“Poncho?” Derek asked.
“It’s gorgeous. It’s green and red with a little splash of yellow. Very festive.”
“Hmm. I can’t wait to see it.”
“You’ll love it. Tah tah. Call me with the details, Snow White. Say bye-bye to Aunt Nikki and Uncle Derek.”
Violet waved and her little voice said, “Bye bye.”
As Simon walked off the patio, Derek turned to Nikki and mouthed the word, Poncho.
She shrugged.
“What did you just commit me to?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, honey. I really love being around family, and Violet is so precious. We will have our alone time. We will.”
“This is my
brother we’re talking about.”
“I know, but it’ll be great. You’ll see. Promise. Now let’s get out of this cold, start a fire, and find a way to celebrate.”
“Any ideas?” he asked.
“A few. Oh, and they include a poncho and a little salsa dance.”
“Oh Señora, I like the way you think.”
Chapter Two
“Pass me the guacamole, sister, and someone get some more margis over here. I’m feeling a bit parched,” Simon said.“Parched? I’m thinking you should be feeling a bit tanked right about now,” Nikki replied. They were lying by the pool at the Four Seasons in Punta de Mita, Puerto Vallarta. Derek, Marco, and the baby had gone into town to do a little Christmas shopping.
Simon lazily waved a hand at her. “Pleeeses, Snow White. I am Irish you know.”
“Okay, so what does that mean?”
“We can soooooo hold our liquor,” he slurred slightly. “Oh my God!” He sat up and moved his sunglasses down onto his nose, peering over them.
“What?” Nikki said, sitting up as well.
“Check it out. Isn’t that like Eminem?”
Nikki took a close look at the young, skinny guy loaded with tattoos, his blond hair tucked under a black baseball cap. He was closely followed by a pretty woman—also with a slew of tattoos down her arms and backside. “I don’t know, I don’t think so.”
“I do. I totally think so.” Simon started to raise his hand and started waving, then he started singing, “You gonna stand there and watch me burn, that’s alright because I like . . .”
Nikki slapped his hand down. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m hip. I’m a fan. I’m gonna buy him a drink.”
“Oh no you’re not.”
“Oh yes I am.” Simon stood up and swayed.
Nikki sunk back down and took a long sip from her margarita, trying not to watch the spectacle that she was certain was about to happen. And, sure enough, one did.
As Simon approached “Eminem,” another dude who was on his way to feeling no pain bumped into Simon, knocking him into the pool.
A Perfectly Purloined Pinot (Nikki Sands' Mysteries) Page 3
