Pour 1/4 cup onto skillet heated at medium. Cook for a couple of minutes on one side (until edges are brown and bubbles form in batter). Flip and cook on other side a couple more minutes. Serve immediately with Blueberry syrup.
Tom’s Creamy Pasta Primavera for Two
Ingredients:
6 oz. pasta of your choice
1/4 c. chicken broth
1/4 c. heavy cream
pinch of red pepper flakes
2 c. diced, cooked vegetables (any combination of mushrooms, asparagus, peas, roasted tomatoes)
1/4 c. diced tomato
handful arugula leaves
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese, plus more to serve
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
Method
1. Set a large pot of salted water over high heat and bring to a boil.
2. In a small bowl, stir together chicken broth, cream, and red pepper flakes.
3. When water boils, add pasta and cook until just shy of al dente (subtract a minute or two from package cooking instructions).
4. Drain pasta in a colander and add back to the pot. Return pot to heat and add broth/cream mixture, vegetables, tomato, arugula, and cheese.
5. Stir to heat through and create a creamy sauce (sauce will simmer a bit), 1-2 minutes.
6. Season with salt, immediately divide between the two bowls, and top with freshly ground black pepper and extra cheese.
Cupid’s Hot Chocolate
(guaranteed to inspire love and adoration from all who drink it)
Ingredients:
2-oz chocolate, chopped
1 tbsp cocoa powder
1 tsp sugar
8-oz milk
Method
1. In a small saucepan, combine all ingredients.
2. Bring almost to a simmer over medium heat, stirring frequently, until all chocolate has been dissolved and mixture is smooth.
3. Pour into a mug to serve, and top with whipped cream.
Heart of Night
A Nightlife Short Story
by Gwendolyn Jensen-Woodard
Lady Jannessa Emilie Liliana Guillory wasn’t overly fond of her name. She always felt it was too long, and in many ways unwieldy. Her father, his Excellency Herraoud Guillory was the French ambassador to this small country south east of Hungary. The country was nice of course, from where Jannessa stood. She was really well sheltered. She knew it too. Yes, it was nice to walk among the trees, and well coifed hedges of her father’s estate, but she knew too, that beyond the walls and the road were people less advantaged, with harder lives. It was because of this knowledge; she refused to dwell on the fact that she was her father’s prisoner in all but name. He was working on making a profitable marriage for her. Well, the marriage was for her, the profits were for him.
Jannessa’s mother died when Jannessa was quite small. She was quite certain that, for some reason, her father had never forgiven her for it. She had everything she could need or want, materialistically. Silks, satins, dolls of the finest make, and of course a few choice baubles that might feed a family in the village for a year. But she never had her father’s love. He rarely spared her a word, or a glance. Never a hug, or even a pat on the head. Jannessa excelled at all of her studies with her French tutor, and yet Sir Guillory never once said “good job” or “I’m proud of you”. Instead, she was left at this estate in a strange country, while he was very nearly always somewhere else. Her nurse Sabine was always kind to her, but it wasn’t the same as a father’s love.
Jannessa swore to herself, that she’d do her best never to leave her children alone or unloved. Nor would she marry a man who didn’t love her, and wouldn’t love her children, no matter what her father wanted. Of course, pulling that off might be tricky, so she hoped he’d pick a kind, loving man for her. She wasn’t naïve however; she knew how diplomatic weddings worked. It was about wealth and power, not love and respect. Jannessa craved love and respect, but knew it was too much to ask. Sighing, and staring into darkness, she resigned herself to a life of wifely obedience.
Turning to head back to the house, Jannessa noticed that the path was darker than she remembered, even in the fall of night. She felt a slight tickle on the back of her neck, which made her turn swiftly, finding the same ahead as behind: nothing but the dark. Yet Jannessa was sure she felt eyes on her in the cold of the night.
“Who is there?” she called. Her heart thumped in her chest, but her voice remained steady and strong. She was a Guillory; she’d face all comers, and show no fear.
As in answer the air started to whip abound her, leaves and twigs caught up in the whirl, around her, but never touching her. The sight was beautiful, haunting, and frightening. Whatever was causing this, Jannessa worried. Had the unnatural found her at last, like so many women alone in the dark? There were always stories of creatures that preyed upon young women and travelers. They were things that came in the night, and stole the people away.
“Who are you? What do you want?” She stood defiant against the dark. Strangely darkness continued, unfazed by her words. Jannessa started to feel silly at her fear, but stayed in the whirl of darkness, watching the shapes for a moment.
“Janni…Janni… you come back to the house now. We need to talk! And it’s ever so dark.” Sabine, Jannessa’s nurse broke the spell of the night. The twigs and leaves fell to the earth and lay as though they’d never moved. Jannessa turned around and could see the path back to her home without a problem. Somehow, the darkness had moved, which was impossible. The idea left her with a thrill however: maybe there was something in the night, very intriguing.
“Goodnight, darkness.” She whispered before running back to her home, and the safety of the light.
“Goodnight, my beauty.” Answered the night, once Jannessa was out of earshot.
“Oh Janni, there you are. I was so worried.” Sabine fussed over her, once Jannessa ascended the few marble steps that separated the garden path from the terrace.
“I’m all right Sabine. No need to worry.”
“You are wrong, child, there are always reasons to worry.” Sabine’s chin was stubborn and Jannessa knew there was no explaining the pull of the night. The sheer beauty of the world in the dark.
“What has you in such a state, Sabine? What is it we need to discuss?”
“It is your father, my dear, he has sent word. He has found three men he considers suitable suitors, and wants a ball in order to show you off. He wants it done, with perfection, in a mere few weeks. And, he has said he will return home just before the ball. We must get you a new dress, shine the silver, wash the linens and oh, so many things.” Sabine was so excited she failed to see Jannessa’s face fall. When Sabine next looked her way, Jannessa had a smile well affixed to her face. Inside though, her heart was heavy. Jannessa wasn’t ready for suitors, or to be shown off like a prize horse.
“All will be ready. We have the staff to clean and decorate, and we can call in the best dress-maker from Budapest. Never fear, Sabine, we won’t let Father down.” Sabine graced her with a grateful smile. Jannessa would never sully her father’s name by giving him less than perfection. If it was a grand ball, with his blond, golden eyed daughter in the middle, then that was what she’d give him. It was her place to make a good marriage to further his goals. There was nothing that said she had to like it.
The next few weeks were a flurry of fabrics, and dresses: of choosing the china and crystal that would show off her father’s wealth without being over the top. Jannessa oversaw the kitchen workers, footmen and household staff. Most of them had known her all their lives, and made sure everything was done in a manner that would not embarrass the lady of the house. The manor house was transforming from its cold and stately presence into something warm, and inviting. Gold hues showed on the walls, the candlesticks, even the goblets. The gold matched her eyes, and would help her stand out in the coming sea of bodies. Evergreen boughs graced many of the flat surfaces, and arched over door
ways, giving the house a touch of winter. The curtains were all changed, the linens cleaned, many now a golden hue to match the other gold elements. The house looked elegant, regal. Jannessa knew it was what her father wanted. It was like she could see his thoughts, though she knew deep down it merely intuition and her imagination. After all, no one could read another person’s thoughts.
Still, on the late nights, on her own time, and tucked up in her bed, Jannessa thought of the darkness: the beauty and the horror. It was the little scare that makes her blood pump just a little more, taking her breath. The magic of the leaves swirling around her, and the cold wind that never touched her, thrilled Jannessa. It was beautiful and terrifying and she knew she wanted more of it. Jannessa felt more alive in that moment than she had in all her nineteen years. It wasn’t controlled by her father, or her nurse. Nor even by herself, but yet, she felt she could have walked into the night without compunction, and perhaps find another world away from the loneliness, the tears and the indifference. Not knowing what lay in the darkness just added to the excitement. Jannessa only allowed herself to think such things late at night, away from anyone else, where she could indulge in a fantasy that could never be true without scrutiny. Though every now and then, the hair on the back of her neck would once again stand up, and Jannessa felt very much as if someone was looking at her. It surprised her to think, if it was something in the darkness, which she did not mind.
Jannessa’s nights may belonged to the darkness. But the days, belonged to her father. The weeks had flown by with all the preparation for the ball, and for her betrothal, that she knew was coming. His Excellency Herraoud Guillory would be in house later that day, with the ball two nights later. She needed to be ready for him, and for what was to come. Jannessa was dreading every second.
“Janni, Janni!” Her nurse shouted excitedly shouted, running into her room carrying a long parcel. “Your dress, it’s here! We must try it on!” Sabine wasn’t happy that her little Jannessa was going to be given away to some man she didn’t love. On the other hand, Sabine loved a party.
Inwardly Jannessa sighed. Her last day of freedom, she now realized, was yesterday.
“Okay Sabine, let us do that. I’m sure the dressmaker did a wonderful job.”
Sabine laid the cedar box on the bed, the lid having already been removed by the footmen. She threw back the folds of parchment and tissue paper to reveal both pieces of this new dress. The satin yellow/gold underdress and petticoat, and the evergreen brocade dress with the few, but well placed golden ribbons. It was everything Jannessa had envisioned and more. This dress would definitely get her noticed.
“Oh well,” she thought, “If I’m to be auctioned off, this is the dress to do it in.”
“It’s beautiful,” Sabine gushed, “Perfect for a lady such as you. “
“The dress is very pretty,” Jannessa knew as soon as it was out of her mouth, that it was an understatement. “It should be for what father paid for it.” She shimmed out of her clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Once she was down to her linen chemise, Sabine first pulled the underdress from the box. As she’d done much of Jannessa’s life, she slide it smoothly over her head, and past her shoulders. Jannessa barely felt the fabric settle once it’d cascaded over her body.
“That is lovely all on its own, my child. Not that you could wear it for anyone except your husband.” Jannessa nodded, but kept her eyes closed. She wanted to see the effect of the whole ball costume, not just bits and pieces of it. The brocade was heavy as it was placed over her arms, and then fastened tightly across her bust. She felt Sabine straighten it to the floor, and pull Jannessa’s hair out from under the weight.
“Oh my dear look, even without having done your hair, you look beautiful.”
Jannessa opened her eyes, and studied the glass in front of her. The gold inlets were slightly darker than her hair, making it shine a bit more in the dim light of the afternoon. It also brought a sparkle to her eyes, that had always been more golden than brown. The green was magnificent, exactly the color of the boughs that graced the house and helping set off her pale skin. This was definitely the gown to go to any ball. Or sadly, to win a husband.
“It’s beautiful,” she gasped, “I wish we were using it for a better occasion.” She squared her shoulders, and took another look. Jannessa knew she could be the wife to anyone her father wished, and make him proud. No matter how miserable she was.
“Sabine, this is exactly what we needed for Father’s ball. Now, help me get changed before he returns home. We don’t want to ruin the surprise.” Jannessa tried to put humor and happiness into her voice. Sabine had known her all of her life. The old nurse loved the younger girl dearly, and knew better. She was also too wise to mention it.
His Excellency Herraoud Guillory rode toward home during the twilight, his mind a thousand places at once. He shivered under his tunics and furs, the night colder than he’d expected. Herraoud didn’t let that bother him, as he focused on his mental imagine of his wife. Fioria was beautiful, long golden hair, and eyes, the same as the daughter they shared. Soft spoken, and yet brilliant. When she disappeared, he found he couldn’t love the daughter they made together. He missed her every day, with every breath. Yet when he looked at Jannessa he felt nothing. Without Fioria, his daughter was a burden and nothing more. This week, he would rid himself of the anchor around his neck. Jannessa would be betrothed, to a man of his choosing, before the ball was over and Herraoud himself would be left in peace.
Herraoud jumped slightly as a fox screamed in the night, shaking him out of his reverie. The dark of the night had deepened while he’d been wallowing in his sorrows. Home was close now, he could just see the lights ahead. Suddenly his horse froze, shrieking at the night. Herraoud saw nothing, just darkness so dense, that had moved in so quickly, that the lights were no longer visible. He felt certain that the darkness was looking back at him: into his very soul. Herraoud couldn’t stand it.
“Hello? Who is out there?” His voice shook slightly, but still held the edge of authority. He was a Guillory after all, he would not show fear. The night itself did not answer.
“I demand that you answer me. I know someone is there, and this is a trick. I am the French Ambassador and I demand to know who you are!” This time, it was all authority and strength.
A cold wind whipped past him then, and Herraoud could see the lights once again. As he began the last leg of his ride, he could have sworn he heard a voice.
“Be careful what you ask for.” The cold wind was gone.
Jannessa saw her father heading for the house. The footmen and servants were organized at the door to greet him upon arrival, as was she. Jannessa sighed, all of this fantasy and fanfare for a man who would walk by, face straight ahead, and say no more than three words to her. Yet, there were protocols to be followed. No matter what her father did, or didn’t think of her, Jannessa proved she could run a household and staff without bothering her father: which in turn meant, once she was married, she could do the same without bothering her husband.
“Everyone, look sharp, he’s here. Toby, Rassiam, go help his Excellency from his horse, and with his bags.”
The younger of the footmen nodded, and ran down the steps to help Herraoud. His Excellency dismounted without their help, barely acknowledging them as he walked up the stone steps to the home.
“Welcome home, father.” Jannessa curtsied. Herraoud nodded ever so slightly, and ignored most of the house staff, tapping one servant to follow him to his room. He quickly disappeared up the stairs, and Jannessa knew she’d been dismissed.
“All right everyone, back to work. Thank you.” She always said thank you. Jannessa appreciated the staff, and everyone deserved praise and encouragement.
Jannessa stole away, into the darkness of the garden. There was no one there to judge her clothes, or mannerisms. No one in the dark to ignore her, and break her heart. The crisp air didn’t bother her in the least. She pulled her coat a little further around
her, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The slight stings of the frigid wind reminded her that she was alive. Jannessa sat on the marble bench, and stared into the stars.
“Bonjour mon petite,” A voice whispered through the night.
“Who’s there?” Jannessa realized, she should be afraid, but really wasn’t.
“My name would mean nothing to you. But I’ve seen you: intelligent, composed and beyond beautiful.” The voice’s French was excellent, but there was an accent that Jannessa could not place. When it talked, it gave her shivers. But not from fear.
“Where? Where did you see me?”
“Here, of course. You make a habit of welcoming the night. As do I.”
“So you are a voyeur, watching girls when they are unaware of you. That is not very nice, you know.” Jannessa tried to sound angry, but she barely managed indignant. The voice was nearly compelling.
“Not many girls, no: just you Lady Jannessa. You are a rare gem indeed. It has been…a long time since I wanted to talk to a girl such as you.”
“Then why don’t you show yourself? Come and introduce yourself like a proper gentleman? Or you could sit by me, and we can talk. About the night, the stars, and so many things. But it’s hard when I can’t see you.” It was brazen and she knew it, but she had to see the body that went with such a voice.
“Alas, I can not do that tonight.” Jannessa thought he, for the voice was that of a man, sounded a little sad.
“Why not?”
“Because tonight is not the night for us. But we will meet, and fairly soon.”
Jannessa was a little taken aback. It was such a strange thing to say.
“On that day, you’ll understand. It will be a night so dark, not even the moon would dare shine.”
HeartWorks Page 20
