He’d already claimed a booth, and drunk half a beer, when I got to the blues club, a couple of blocks from the loft on Alaskan Way. The live show hadn’t started yet, but I swayed to the recorded rhythm of a seriously rockin’ guitarist.
I slid in. “How was Portland? How’s the story coming?”
“Uh, good. We should be ready to run the piece next week, part of a series on infrastructure problems throughout the Northwest.”
I ordered a BB King Manhattan—Crown Royal and Grand Marnier with a cherry. “So it’s not just earthquake concerns about the Viaduct and that I-5 bridge collapse?”
“Uh, no.” Alternately spinning and gripping his half-empty beer glass, he talked about bridges, highways, and resurfacing. About functional obsolescence, bottleneck, and gridlock. It should have been fascinating. It wasn’t. He broke off in the middle of a sentence about the gas tax trust fund. “Pepper, we need to talk.”
I set my drink down. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking, and—”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He stared into his beer and licked his lips. “I haven’t been honest at all.”
This wasn’t going where I expected.
“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I swear. But it’s been clear for a while that you’re just not that into me, and . . .”
The ex-girlfriend in Austin, the one he’d moved to Seattle to get away from, had taken a job with the Portland daily paper. There was a slot open on a regional weekly, and after the hearing in Olympia Monday, he’d gone down to Portland to interview. He’d been there all week. She’d found a great apartment in the very hip Pearl District, roomy enough for two. He’d given notice and intended to move by the end of the month.
It’s disconcerting to plan to break up with someone and find yourself dumped instead.
“If this is what you want, then I’m happy for you. If you two have worked things out—”
“Yeah.” His head bobbed. “Yeah, I think we have. You’re okay with this? Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” No point telling him what I’d planned to say. I’d made my choice, and it didn’t matter whether he knew. I knew what I wanted in a relationship, and that I hadn’t found it yet. Kristen had been right last spring when she said there was nothing wrong with my judgment. I’d known this wasn’t the relationship for me; I’d known something was missing. It had been fun, and fun had been what I needed. Faulty judgment would have been to try to make it more than it was.
The music changed, classic U2. “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” Bono sang, and I agreed.
I leaned across the table to kiss his cheek one last time. Then I slid out of the booth and walked out into the night.
It’s a big sea, and it’s full of fish.
Thirty-one
There is a taste of thyme-sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road.
—Steve Young, “Seven Bridges Road”
“Welcome home!” we shouted as Cayenne and her husband led the real Mr. Adams into his house Saturday morning. The doctors had pronounced him likely to outlive them, although he was going to need the help of his family, in the garden and elsewhere.
“We bought you a present.” The old man sat in his throne by the living room window, and Cayenne handed him a cane tied with a big blue bow. “See, Pops? The handle is shaped like the head of a golf club, but the shaft is strong enough to support you. Unlike the three-iron.”
“Humph. As long as I can fight off intruders.” He gave it a test swing, and we all stepped back.
In the kitchen, I unwrapped my offering, a bowl of herbed black bean pasta salad. “I’ve got to get back to the shop,” I told Cayenne. “Enjoy your day off with the family.”
“Not so fast,” she said. “There’s still one mystery to solve.”
I tilted my head, puzzled.
She waggled her brows. “Your real name.”
“You remember who signs your paychecks, right? Not Reed or Matt, and most definitely not Sandra.”
She crossed her heart with one burgundy-tipped forefinger.
“I suppose you have earned the right to know. Persephone.” She frowned, and I explained. “My mother was in her Greek goddess phase. Persephone was the maiden of spring, the daughter of Demeter, the Goddess of Corn, also called the Goddess of the Earth.”
“Is she the one who was kidnapped by what’s-his-name?”
“Hades, the King of the Dead. He took Persephone to the underworld and made her queen. Her mother was so distraught that all the crops died, and the people began to starve. Eventually, Zeus sent a messenger to Hades, and they worked out a deal. Persephone spent half the year in the underworld, with Hades, and half the year above, with her mother. And that is why we have the seasons, both spring and harvest. Joy and sadness.”
And why mother and daughter, even when they are close and the daughter is grown, always fear that they don’t measure up to each other’s expectations.
Cayenne stuck a serving spoon in my salad. “I thought my parents were crazy, naming me after an ingredient in Tabasco sauce.”
After all we’d been through in the last ten days, there was nothing like a good, long, happy hug.
But before I headed back to the Market, I dashed across the street to see Josh. I found him at the far back table, sipping coffee and tapping his fingers to the reggae filling the airwaves.
“You here to check on my cinnamon supply or gloat about your great review?”
A copy of Northwest Cuisine lay on the table, open to a picture of his bakery, with the headline PLAIN, BUT TASTY. Underneath, smaller type read “One bite and you’ll forget the lack of atmosphere in this Beacon Hill treat house.”
“Don’t worry about her,” I said. “She’s the kind of critic who uses charm as a code word to suggest style over substance, but tourists won’t understand, and locals know better.”
He made a “you may be right” gesture. “She raved about our cream puffs—she calls them profiteroles—with coffee ice cream, but dismisses cupcakes as quaint. I’ll have her know we sell dozens of cupcakes every day. And she called our interior ‘bare bones’ and ‘yesteryear.’”
I surveyed the stark walls, the utilitarian furniture, the scuffed linoleum floor. “She’s got a point. Though you’d think she’d save her barbs for the coffee shops that try to distance themselves from Starbucks while aping their decor. Or the opposite extreme—designers who mistake intentionally mismatched tables and cat knickknacks for style.”
“So I shouldn’t ask you to go shopping for cast-off tables and chairs with me? Hey, on a more serious note, thanks for the chocolates. And for finding Bonnie’s killer. Not to mention underscoring my resolve to work less and make time for a relationship that actually works.”
“All that? Wow. You’re welcome. I’ve got a few friends in the artist community, including a couple who need a studio and apartment while they search for a building of their own.”
He spread his hands. “Send ’em in. I’ll give ’em a free month’s rent if they’ll paint this joint.”
* * *
I left the bakery and walked down the block, past the wedding boutique. The green silk dress was gone.
Didn’t matter. My destination was the gift shop. The owner listened to my pitch about custom herb blends as wedding favors while she wrapped up my prize: the vintage Dr Pepper cooler. The perfect companion to the picnic basket. I didn’t know when I’d use either one, but I trusted that the time would come.
In the car, I checked my phone for messages. The car. My mother hadn’t said which six months of the year they might spend in Seattle, but I had little doubt it would be the driest six months. Mustang weather.
I patted the leather seat. All good things must end.
A text from Tag. Drink that champagne this weekend? No strings attached.
Seriously tempting. But I had another temptation in mind. Instead of hitting reply, I called the shop and said I’d be back later than planned.
Odd as it was to set out on an adventure without my dog, I drove with purpose. Found a parking spot up front. Passed by the patio full of Seattleites and tourists enjoying lunch in the sunshine, beside the pleasantly fish-scented waters, and strolled past the docks until I reached the right one.
The slip was empty. I set my calling card—a jar of the Spice Shop’s new cocoa spice rub, with a hint of thyme—in the fisherman’s creel tied to the dock post, a makeshift mail box accented with old rope and a glass float.
Because life is about the choices we make.
Recipes and Spice Notes
The Seattle Spice Shop recommends . . .
COCOA-PAPRIKA STEAK RUB
The combination of paprikas and a touch of cayenne makes for a great flavor that will enhance any cut of steak. If you have cocoa nibs, substitute them for half the cocoa—they add a darker note and a bit of texture. Ground thyme—not leaves—adds a mellow complement.
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder OR 1½ teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder and 1½ teaspoons cocoa nibs
2 teaspoons sweet (standard) paprika
¼ teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon packed light brown sugar or turbinado (raw) sugar
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons kosher salt
¼ teaspoon ground thyme (optional)
Combine all ingredients. Spices can be stored and used within a week or two.
Makes about 3 tablespoons, enough for about 2 pounds of steak.
ITALIAN HERB BLEND
This is a good basic blend that you can adjust for your own taste. Remember that blends take a few hours for the flavors to meld; because of the mildness of these herbs, you can use the blend generously right away, and taste how the flavors improve over time.
3 tablespoons dried basil
2 tablespoons dried thyme
4 teaspoons dried marjoram
4 teaspoons dried oregano
2 teaspoons dried sage
2 teaspoons dried garlic flakes or garlic powder
2 teaspoons dried rosemary (break the needles with a mortar and pestle or in a small bowl with the back of a sturdy spoon)
Mix herbs in a small bowl.
Fabulous in tomato sauce over pasta or on pizza, in a pasta salad with cooked or raw veggies, or in eggs. Try it in place of the red pepper flakes, fennel, and cayenne in Laurel’s Spicy Morning Sausage in Assault and Pepper. Toss into a soup, stew, or casserole. Try the blend whenever a recipe calls for two or three of its ingredients.
Makes about 10 tablespoons, just over ½ cup.
Thyme for a backyard party
TEQUILA-THYME LEMONADE
Serve as a spiked lemonade, at cocktail strength, or allow guests to choose. Tequila adds a fun summer flavor, but gin, vodka, or white rum are also tasty—and it’s equally delicious without alcohol.
1½ cups sugar
8 to 10 sprigs thyme or lemon thyme
Cold water
2 cups fresh lemon juice (about 10 lemons)
1 cup tequila (or other alcohol) for spiked lemonade; 2 cups for cocktail strength
Thyme sprigs for garnish (optional)
In a small saucepan, bring sugar, thyme, and 1 cup cold water to a boil. Stir until the sugar is dissolved—about 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside to cool, allowing the thyme to continue infusing the syrup.
Juice the lemons.
Strain the syrup into a medium bowl, and discard the thyme sprigs. Strain the lemon juice into the bowl, and discard the pulp. Stir the mixture and pour it into a serving pitcher. Add 6 cups of cold water. Chill at least an hour before serving.
To serve, add the tequila to the pitcher, garnish, and serve over ice. Or set out a variety of spirits and a jigger, and allow guests to choose their own flavor and strength. In a standard highball or cocktail glass, ½ ounce of alcohol will “spike” the lemonade, while 1 ounce will make a standard-strength cocktail.
Makes 8 to 10 servings.
HERBED BLACK BEAN PASTA SALAD
This salad is terrific by itself or as a side dish, especially with chicken or salmon. Whole-grain pasta and beans make it an excellent source of protein for vegetarians—something Laurel keeps in mind when stocking Ripe’s deli case. You’ll love the color the turmeric and fresh herbs add—and the combination of fresh herbs in the salad and the dried herbs in the dressing gives an extra punch of flavor.
FOR THE SALAD:
1 pound regular or whole-grain penne pasta
1 15-ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed
2 to 3 carrots, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 yellow or green bell pepper, chopped
1 small sweet onion, diced
1 cup marinated artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
¼ to ½ cup fresh basil, chopped
1 to 2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano
1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage
2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
FOR THE DRESSING:
⅓ cup mayonnaise
¼ cup Dijon mustard
1 heaping tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning blend
½ teaspoon turmeric
½ teaspoon sea salt
Freshly ground pepper
Cook the pasta until al dente. Drain and rinse in cool water to stop the cooking. Meanwhile, drain and rinse the beans and chop the vegetables and fresh herbs. Place the beans, veggies, and herbs in a large bowl. Add the pasta and stir to mix.
To make the dressing, place all the ingredients in a blender or a small food processor, or use an immersion blender, and mix until smooth. Add the dressing to the salad mixture and toss gently until well combined. (You may fear not having enough dressing, but don’t worry—it will surprise you!)
Serve warm or chilled, by itself or over a bed of chilled hearty greens, such as a mixture of spinach, arugula, romaine, or other sturdy lettuces.
Makes 8 to 10 servings.
CUCUMBER CANTALOUPE SALAD
For Kristen and Eric’s party, Laurel sliced the green onions on the bias in 2-inch lengths and threaded them on skewers with the cucumber slices and cantaloupe chunks. But she’s a caterer, and they do things like that. Pepper just dumps it all in a bowl. If you’re among the cilantro-averse, use mint.
¼ cup fresh lime juice
½ teaspoon sea salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 English cucumber, peeled in alternating stripes and coarsely chopped
8 cups cantaloupe, cut in chunks (roughly one large or two small melons)
3 to 5 green onions, sliced
½ cup fresh cilantro or mint, chopped
In a bowl large enough to hold all the ingredients, whisk lime juice, salt, and pepper together. Add cucumber, cantaloupe, onions, and herbs. Stir to coat.
Makes about 10 cups.
LEMON THYME COOKIES
The herbs give these shortbread squares a light, summery touch that tastes terrific in any season. Serve with lemon sorbet for an elegant pairing.
½ cup butter, softened
¼ cup white sugar
1 tablespoon fresh thyme or lemon thyme leaves
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
¼ teaspoon ground cardamom
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
Coarse white or granulated sugar, for topping
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Beat butter with an electric mixer on medium speed for 30 seconds. Add ¼ cup white sugar and mix until combined. Add thyme, lemon zest, lemon juice, a
nd cardamom, scraping the sides of the bowl if necessary to get all ingredients combined. Gradually stir in the flour and mix.
Form the dough into a ball. To make it easier to work, divide dough into three equal portions. Roll each out on a floured surface into a 6-by-4½ inch rectangle, about ¼ inch thick. Cut into 11⁄2 inch squares with a knife or a serrated pastry wheel. Sprinkle with coarse or granulated sugar. Place squares on ungreased cookie sheets.
Bake 12 to 15 minutes, until edges and bottom are golden. Cool on a wire rack.
Makes 36 small cookies.
At home with Pepper
STEAKS WITH COCOA-PAPRIKA RUB
Letting the rubbed steaks sit half an hour before grilling takes the peppery edge off.
Choose any cut of steak. Rub cocoa-paprika spice blend into all surfaces, including the sides, with your fingers. (You can also lay the steak in the spice mixture, as if you were breading it, then pat the spices into the surface of the meat.) Allow steaks to sit 30 minutes before grilling or pan-frying to your desired temperature.
HERBY-CHEESY SPREAD
This spread is even better the second or third day if you can keep yourself from eating it all at once. An easy flavor variation: substitute 2 tablespoons of the Italian blend for the herbs and spices listed below, and omit the ½ teaspoon salt.
4 to 5 ounces Parmesan or Parmesan-Reggiano, cut in small cubes
4 to 5 ounces Asiago, cut in small cubes
4 scallions or ¼ cup chives, roughly chopped
1 teaspoon fresh or 2 teaspoons dried oregano
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1½ teaspoons Aleppo pepper
1 clove garlic
½ teaspoon salt
Killing Thyme Page 26
