Who Moved My Goat Cheese?

by Lynn Cahoon

  “I’m just so excited to be starting up The County Seat here. I wish Nona was here to see this. She would have loved everything about it.” The door swung open and their first customers came into the foyer.

  “I’m sure she’s looking down from Heaven and blessing you right now.” Felicia squeezed her arm. “We have guests so I’m up. Stay out here and mingle for a while. They’d love to see you.”

  Angie thought the town folk would probably love to see her alive and find out how she found Moss Farm treasure cave as it was being called by the media. Even the woman who’d come out to interview them about the restaurant opening had started with questions about how she’d escaped being killed by a mad man. But she followed Felicia’s directions, visiting each table as they sat, popping into the kitchen to make sure they were okay without her, and then coming back out to mingle again.

  Appetizers started flowing along with the drinks and then there he was. Ian McNeal walked in the door dressed in a suit with a blue shirt. He took her breath away and when he saw her, he smiled. Then he turned back to the door and held it open.

  What had she been thinking? That he’d come stag? Of course he’d brought a date. Her chest tightened, but she took a deep breath and pushed the pain away. This was her night. And she wasn’t going to let him hurt her. But when he helped the woman inside, she thought her heart would burst.

  Mrs. Potter and Erica were on both sides of Ian as he escorted them up to the hostess stand. Angie stepped closer and heard him tell Felicia. “I believe we had both a table for one and a table for two, but could we combine those reservations into a table for three?”

  “Of course, let me just get it set up.” Felicia and a server went to set up a table near the exit so Mrs. Potter wouldn’t have to walk far.

  “You look lovely tonight.” Ian whispered as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “But I didn’t expect to see you out here. Shouldn’t you be cooking?”

  “Felicia wants me to do the dog and pony show for a while. She says everyone here wants to meet me.” She looked up at Ian. “Thanks for bringing them.”

  “Not a problem. I figured I could do the run in my wagon better than that little car of Erica’s. Besides, now I have company for dinner.” He turned and looked at Mrs. Potter. “And two lovely ladies at my table. A man could die happy.”

  “You are a charmer, that’s what you are.” Mrs. Potter shook a finger at him. Then she waved Angie over for a kiss on the cheek. “You need to watch that one carefully. Before you know it, he’ll have a ring on that finger of yours.”

  “Grandma, I don’t think Angie and Ian are even dating.” Erica greeted Angie with air kisses. Then she grinned. “Yet.”

  “You all are terrible.” Angie glanced back at the kitchen. “I’ve got to go, we’ll be firing main courses soon and I want to be there to expedite. Enjoy your meal.”

  “You can bet on it.” Ian nodded toward Felicia. “Looks like our table is ready. May I escort you?”

  Angie left the trio as they were slowly making their way to the table. Opening The County Seat felt different than el pescado had. There, it had been fun and exciting getting to know new people. Here, it was like having family over for dinner. The County Seat felt like home. She stepped into the kitchen and took over expediting from Estebe. She turned on her CD of classic rock and turned up the volume. “Let’s get this kitchen rocking!”

  After they’d served the last dessert and had shut down and cleaned up the kitchen, she sat at the chef’s table. Estebe was the only one left of the kitchen staff. “Well, tonight turned out amazing.”

  He brought over two bottles of beer from the fridge. “You did great. This is a happy place and we serve happy food.”

  She took a long sip from the bottle and held the cool glass on her head. “We did great. And we get to do it again tomorrow night.”

  “You make that sound like a bad thing.” Estebe clinked his bottle on hers. “To The County Seat. May this be the first of many years of exceptional nights.”

  They chatted for a while about the details of the night, what slowed down service and ways they could speed it up. Finally, she glanced at the clock. “It’s almost eleven. I’ve kept you way too late. You go home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He paused, looking at her. “I could make you something to eat before I go.”

  She rubbed her face. “I’m not hungry. Besides, I need to get home to Dom. He’s probably wondering what happened to me. This working late is going to mess with his bedtime routine.”

  “The dog loves you. He’ll manage.” Estebe stood and paused at the table. “I enjoy cooking with you, Angie.”

  And then he left through the back door. She realized that was the first time he’d called her by her first name. Smiling, she went to lock the back door. Then she checked the stoves, and turned out the lights. Time to go home and fall into bed.

  Felicia stood at the bar, closing up with Jeorge. She patted him on the back and said her goodbyes. As he walked out the front, she strolled up to Angie, shoeless. “What an amazing night. We did close to fifty covers, all the servers went home with a wad of money in their pockets from tips, and no one sent back anything. I think we did all right.”

  “I think we did fantastic.” She peeled off her chef coat, exposing the glittery tank underneath. Pulling her hair free from the bun, she sighed. “This is why I love running a restaurant. Feeding people, providing a food experience, and being done at the end of the night. This is the best job in the world.”

  The door opened and they both called out, “We’re closed.”

  Ian peeked inside. “I kind of figured that, but I wanted to talk to Angie if possible.”

  Felicia squeezed Angie in a big hug. “That’s my cue. I’m going upstairs and soaking in a hot bath until the water turns cold or my bottle of wine is gone.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Angie smiled toward her friend then walked to the front where they had benches for early arrivals and waiting customers. “Come sit if you want to talk, I don’t think I’ll last long standing up. And thank you again for bringing Mrs. Potter tonight. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me for her to be here.”

  “All in a day’s work for Superman.” He sat next to her and loosened his tie. “Besides, it was my pleasure.”

  “You may be the only one who thinks of you as Superman, but I think you’re pretty amazing.”

  “Do you now?” He turned toward her. “Then this next thing I’m going to ask will be a walk in the park.”

  “What do you want? I already told Sheriff Brown I’d testify against Kirk. I hear they found the lawyer Gerald was using.” Rumors had been flying for the last few days and since they all wanted to hear Angie’s side, she heard all the gossip.

  “Yes. And he it turns out he did have a will. He left everything to Mildred. When Allen told her, she broke down sobbing.” He looked at his hands. “She really loved him.”

  “I got that impression too.” Angie wished the best for the woman who had to go on without the man she’d come to love. All because of money. She glanced at her watch. “I really have to get home. I’m going to be beat tomorrow.”

  “One more thing. I know you can’t go on a weekend, but would you have dinner with me on Tuesday night?”

  She turned toward him. “You want to have dinner with me? Is this about the market? Should I cook?”

  “No, this isn’t about the market, and no, you aren’t going to cook. I thought we’d take a drive up to Sun Valley and eat at the lodge. I can have you home at a decent hour if we leave here about two. And it’s a beautiful drive.”

  “I don’t understand.” Angie felt like her brain was foggy.

  He took in a breath. “Angie Turner, I’m asking if you want to go on a date with me?”

  She grinned. “Just because Mrs. Potter said that thing, doesn’t mean… “

 
Interrupting, he shook his head. “I’ve been planning this for weeks, but thought after you opened would be a better time. You might be less distracted. But then, when you were with Kirk, I realized time is the one thing we aren’t promised. So will you go on a bloody date with me?”

  Angie smiled. Now, it was a perfect night. “Yes, Ian, I will.”

  And now, a note from the author

  Potato Soup.

  My comfort, go-to food of choice.

  Whenever I’m feeling sick or lonely or anxious—yes, I’m an emotional eater—this is my go to recipe. When I went back home a few years ago for my mother’s surgery, I found it was a family tradition.

  My oldest sister started the potatoes, celery, and onions cooking, chatting as she peeled and chopped. Then, the second in line, took over, mixing in milk and the egg dumplings we’d all come to expect in the creamy goodness.

  When it was served, the resulting goodness filled us with a warmth that highlighted the fact that most of the family (I have two sisters, two brothers, one half-sister, and one stepbrother) was sitting at the table, brought together from four different states to support Mom. I wasn’t sure when the last time we’d all been together was and we were afraid of what the next time would be, but no one spoke of that. Instead, we talked about happy memories and the different versions of this family classic we made in our own homes.

  My version doesn’t have goat cheese, which Angie would probably find a way to incorporate during her experiments, but we love it.

  Chop one onion and mince a clove or two of garlic. Brown this in a large heavy stockpot with a couple tablespoons of olive oil. Crumble a pound or so of a fresh sausage into the pan. I like the spicy Italian sausage my grocer makes for this. Sprinkle in a teaspoon of red pepper flakes.

  Cook until the meat is done but not overcooked and dry. Then set the mixture aside in a colander, draining out the fat from the olive oil as well as the sausage.

  Pour a box of chicken stock into the empty stock pan. Don’t worry that there might be bits and pieces from the sausage mixture still in the pan.

  Peel 4-6 large russet potatoes, chopping into small pieces. Add these to the stockpot along with two stalks of celery chopped into small slices. Add the leaves and chopped stalks into the pot. Add enough water to cover the potatoes, add in salt (I like a lot of salt, so I’d say at least a teaspoon here, but this can be adjusted up or down for your own salt liking) and pepper and let the mixture boil for thirty minutes, checking the water level at different times. You don’t want this to dry out and burn. When the potatoes are soft, mash up some of the potatoes. Not all of the pot. You can also do this by inserting an immersion blender, but it seems a bit fancy for the recipe.

  Add back in the drained meat mixture, a cup of heavy cream, and enough milk to make the soup appear creamy.

  Then in a separate bowl, add a ½ cup of flour, and generous sprinklings (or dashes) of salt, pepper, garlic salt, seasonal salt to the dry mixture. Then crack an egg in the middle. Mix together in the bowl, then drop by spoonful into the soup. If there are left over crumblings, add those as well as the flour/egg mixture will thicken your soup.

  Put a lid on the soup, heat until the egg dumplings are cooked through, and serve.

  My husband, who’s a meat-and-potatoes dinner lover, finds this soup perfect for a weekend meal. I like to add some fresh rolls to the mix (yes, more carbs) but he likes the soup all by itself.

  Enjoy.

  Lynn

  Got a craving for more Angie Turner adventures?

  Be sure to keep an eye out for more

  Farm-to-Fork Mysteries

  Coming soon from

  Lynn Cahoon

  And

  Lyrical Underground

  And don’t miss her other series

  The Cat Latimer Mysteries

  And

  The Tourist Trap Mysteries

  Available wherever books are sold!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho expat. She grew up living the small town life she now loves to write about. Currently, she’s living with her husband and two fur babies in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap series, won the 2015 Reader’s Crown award for Mystery Fiction.

  A STORY TO KILL

  A Cat Latimer Mystery

  Former English professor Cat Latimer is back in Colorado, hosting writers’ retreats in the big blue Victorian she’s inherited, much to her surprise, from none other than her carousing ex-husband! Now it’s an authors’ getaway—but Cat won’t let anyone get away with murder…

  The bed-and-breakfast is open for business, and bestselling author Tom Cook is among its first guests. Cat doesn’t know why he came all the way from New York, but she’s glad to have him among the quirkier—and far less famous—attendees.

  Cat’s high school sweetheart Seth, who’s fixing up the weathered home, brings on mixed emotions for Cat…some of them a little overpowering. But it’s her uncle, the local police chief, whom she’ll call for help when there’s a surprise ending for Tom Cook in his cozy guest room. Will a killer have the last word on the new life Cat has barely begun?

  GUIDEBOOK TO MURDER

  A Tourist Trap Mystery

  In the gentle coastal town of South Cove, California, all Jill Gardner wants is to keep her store—Coffee, Books, and More—open and running. So why is she caught up in the business of murder?

  When Jill’s elderly friend, Miss Emily, calls in a fit of pique, she already knows the city council is trying to force Emily to sell her dilapidated old house. But Emily’s gumption goes for naught when she dies unexpectedly and leaves the house to Jill—along with all of her problems…and her enemies. Convinced her friend was murdered, Jill is finding the list of suspects longer than the list of repairs needed on the house. But Jill is determined to uncover the culprit—especially if it gets her closer to South Cove’s finest, Detective Greg King. Problem is, the killer knows she’s on the case—and is determined to close the book on Jill permanently…