Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme

by Jocelyne Rapinac

  Mariette’s Tomato Pie

  For the pastry:

  1 cup (120g) self-raising flour, plus extra for dusting

  1 cup (100g) oat flakes

  ½ tsp salt

  1 tbsp dried herbes de Provence or dried thyme

  120g butter, cut into pieces, plus extra for greasing

  For the filling:

  6 large ripe tomatoes, sliced, sprinkled with ½ tsp salt and left to marinate for 30 mins

  1–2 tbsp Dijon mustard

  ¾ cup (80g) grated hard cheese

  sea salt and ground black pepper

  fresh herbes de Provence or fresh thyme, to taste

  handful black olives

  1. In a bowl, mix together the flour, oat flakes, salt and dried herbs, then rub in the butter until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add teaspoons of cold water until the mixture comes together to form a soft dough. Leave to rest, covered, at room temperature for at least 30 mins.

  2. Preheat the oven to 190°C/375°F/Gas 5. Grease and lightly flour a 9½ in (24cm) pie dish. Roll out the pastry on a floured surface and use to line the dish, then prick all over with a fork. Cover with a sheet of greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans. Bake blind for 15 mins, then remove the paper and beans.

  3. Drain the tomatoes of their water. Spread the mustard over the pastry base, sprinkle with grated cheese and arrange the sliced tomatoes on top. Season with salt and pepper and scatter over the fresh herbs and black olives. Bake for 40 mins, until golden and bubbling. Serve hot with a green salad.

  Claudia’s Banana Bread

  120g softened butter, plus extra for greasing

  ⅓ cup (60g) caster sugar

  ½ cup (100g) soft brown sugar

  2 eggs, at room temperature

  pinch of salt

  ½ cup (100g) plain yogurt

  1½ tsp baking powder

  1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

  3 very ripe bananas, mashed with a fork

  1 cup (120g) plain flour

  1 cup (100g) oat flakes

  2 tbsp cocoa

  1 cup (80g) desiccated coconut

  ½ cup (80g) raisins

  ½ cup (50g) chocolate chips (any colour)

  3 tbsp rum

  ½ tsp each ground cinnamon and anise seeds

  1. Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas 4. In a large bowl, cream together the butter and both sugars until smooth and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, with the salt.

  2. Place the yogurt in a small bowl and stir in the baking powder and bicarbonate of soda. Pour into the egg mixture, add the mashed bananas and stir together gently. Fold in all the remaining ingredients.

  3. Grease and line a 9 x 5 in (23 x 12.5cm) loaf tin. Transfer the mixture to the tin and bake for 40 mins. Test with a skewer that the cake is cooked right through. Leave to rest in the turned-off oven for 5 mins, then take out and cool in the tin before turning out. The banana bread will keep in an airtight tin for a week, or can be frozen.

  May

  A Delicious Destination

  ‘The discovery of a new dish does more for the happiness of the human race than the discovery of a star.’

  Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, 1755–1826,

  French lawyer, politician, epicure and gastronome

  Thomas was back from his holiday in Turkey. Heidi saw him arrive through the large window that separated her office from the reception area. She was thrilled to see her closest colleague again after almost two weeks.

  He’d been in her thoughts a great deal of that time. Now they waved to each other, both smiling broadly.

  Every other day, Heidi had received emailed photos and messages from Thomas, telling her about the wonderful places he was visiting, showing her the fabulous sights and recounting what he’d been eating while he was in Istanbul.

  Istanbul … the very name made Heidi dream, evoking for her the perfect exotic and mysterious destination.

  Her holiday – only two weeks a year – was spent entirely with her mother and the twins in rural Ohio. Not that she didn’t try to get along with her mother, for the sake of the children, but with that being her only break from her monotonous routine, it wasn’t ideal. It was all she could afford, however.

  At least with Thomas she could dream of more adventurous escapes. He knew so much about the world and visited a new country twice a year – in May and October. Heidi hoped to be able to go with him one day …

  Thomas seemed very content. His holidays were obviously doing him a power of good. He never got much of a tan, although he’d been to a lot of hot, sunny places, but, as he told Heidi, he usually stayed in the shade because he was afraid of getting sunburnt and developing skin cancer.

  Istanbul – Heidi sighed longingly – the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, the Topkapi Palace and the vibrant bazaars. Thomas’s hotel had had a nice roof terrace where he’d spent much of the time admiring the panoramic view of the Bosphorus, sipping Doluca wine or raki.

  Thanks to his emails, Heidi had easily been able to imagine him visiting the different places, taking a break on his hotel terrace, dining on imam bayildi, borek, sis kebap, dolma, with baklava for dessert, as if she were there with him. She could almost smell the dishes, he described them so well.

  She’d enjoyed reliving Thomas’s trip in her mind. The photos that he’d downloaded on the tiny laptop he always took with him were so very picturesque, the colours so vibrant and the views so inviting. His attached comments and anecdotes were fun to read: a real travel journal.

  Heidi would rather have received postcards with actual stamps on them, but while he was away Thomas preferred to communicate only via the internet. As he said, postcards took so long that they would often arrive after he was back at his desk. For him, that would certainly ruin the charm and immediacy of his day-to-day travelogue.

  Heidi anticipated that Thomas would invite her and the twins, Nick and Tania, for dinner – maybe even as soon as the following Saturday. He’d want to cook them some of the specialities he’d discovered during his Turkish trip, and he’d conjure up the atmosphere of Istanbul with local music, decorating the dining room with a few artefacts and souvenirs he’d brought back, as if he were a magician. And then, having experienced the taste of Istanbul, they’d all sit and be transported right there by his computer slide show. Such a treat!

  Heidi thought that Thomas was amazing. When he went to a restaurant he could work out what all the ingredients were in a particular dish and then re-create it at home. A proper food connoisseur, everyone called him.

  ‘A connoisseur? Do you think so?’ he’d reply modestly. ‘You know, I just enjoy good authentic, simple food in a place that has atmosphere, and try to cook the same thing in my kitchen, that’s all.’

  One day Heidi had asked Thomas if he would teach her to cook. He’d agreed right away. Since then, he’d shown her how to prepare a whole range of the delightful recipes he’d brought back from his holidays.

  These cookery lessons took place once a month at Thomas’s comfortable home. He still lived with his mother, Mrs Reynolds, a lovely woman, who clearly enjoyed spending time with Nick and Tania, while the twins saw her as a distinguished and fun great-auntie.

  Thomas was very special to Heidi. She was secretly in love with him but believed that his kindness towards her was no more than friendship. Their monthly gatherings at his home, a few lunches en tête-à-tête – her favourite moments with him – chatting at work, and the email travelogue were all Thomas wanted to share with her, she decided.

  Heidi even tried to read the same books as Thomas. He had a taste for classic fiction and that took her back to the world of literature she’d enjoyed so much when she was younger. Comparing notes with Thomas about novels they’d both read was another source of intense enjoyment to Heidi.

  Thomas always had a compliment for her. But she wondered if he was only trying to cheer her up, knowing her life wasn’t always easy.

  Heidi bore in mind what her mother had told her coun
tless times: ‘Let’s face it, my girl, this Thomas Reynolds, who seems to lead a peaceful, intellectual life – how ready would he be to share that life with a woman like you, divorced with two kids? And aren’t you a little too young for him? Or maybe he’s a little old for you.’

  Well, I don’t care about his age, since we enjoy each other’s company. Let’s see how things go, was Heidi’s silent answer to her mother’s acerbic comments. But the seeds of doubt that anything could ever come of their friendship were planted none the less.

  ‘Heidi, so nice to see you,’ Thomas hailed her warmly as he entered her office, stretching out his hand to take hers. They kissed each other twice on the cheek.

  ‘Likewise,’ she replied. Her face felt rosier all of a sudden.

  ‘It’s easier to come back to work with your smile around. It’s the best welcome back there is, you know. Hey, I like this hairband. Nice colour. It goes so well with your eyes.’

  ‘Thanks, Thomas. I’m very happy to see you too. The agency isn’t the same without you.’

  ‘Do you want to go out for lunch?’

  ‘That would be great,’ Heidi answered quickly, pleased that the invitation was offered, as she’d expected. She hadn’t even packed a lunch this morning.

  ‘There’s no genuine Turkish food around here,’ Thomas said with a wink, ‘but Mounir’s will be Middle Eastern enough.’

  ‘Wonderful. And I like their little outdoor area so much!’

  Having been away for ten days, Thomas was swamped with work, but even so, he was determined to find time to have lunch with Heidi.

  When Thomas was on holiday he didn’t want to know anything about the agency. He preferred to forget all about the clients, their files and their demands and, instead, immerse himself in a completely different atmosphere, far away from his daily office routine.

  The only person he stayed in touch with at work was Heidi. He’d started sending her emails about his holiday two years ago when she’d timidly asked him to send her a postcard from Portugal. He’d made her promise then that she wouldn’t mention anything about work in her replies.

  Thomas wasn’t too concerned about the huge amount of work he had to do that morning. Instead he was wondering how to explain to Heidi what he had to tell her when they went to lunch. He just couldn’t lie to her any longer. She needed to know the truth, especially now he sensed their friendship was taking a different path, that his feelings for her could, in fact, be more than just friendship. He wondered if Heidi would have a relationship with a man like him, whose passions were cuisines of the world, reading and museums: a little boring for a young woman like her, and for her two spirited children. By the time he took Heidi to Mounir’s he was feeling decidedly nervous.

  ‘I really love these falafels,’ Heidi gushed, after taking a sip of her glass of ayran.

  Looking straight at Thomas, happily tucking into his stuffed aubergines, she went on enthusiastically, ‘So far I’ve done nothing but gossip about work. Tell me more about your trip!’

  Thomas set down his knife and fork and reached for his briefcase, from which he produced two nicely wrapped parcels. ‘Here’s a little gift for you first.’

  Heidi was overjoyed when she unwrapped them. One was a jar of rose jam, with the recipe attached to it. The other one comprised two smaller bottles in a pretty pink box: one of rose perfume, and one of rose oil, plus a card inviting Heidi, Nick and Tania to dinner the following Saturday.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Thomas. They’re lovely!’

  Heidi would have liked to kiss Thomas but she didn’t dare. Instead she smelt the perfume and was transported by its exotic fragrance. Then suddenly she blushed at the sight of the crimson rose design on the bottle: the flower of passionate love! And it was the first time Thomas had brought her something that was not edible or drinkable. She felt a little confused, but, at the same time, hopeful.

  Thomas was delighted by Heidi’s reaction. She’s always so easy to please, and always positive.

  ‘I really liked the food flavoured with rose when I was there. I’ll make a dessert with rose syrup on Saturday.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll love all the Turkish food you’ll prepare for us, and so will the twins. They send their love, by the way. Look what they made for you.’

  She handed Thomas two drawings depicting him on holiday: one showed him in profile, with the Blue Mosque in the background; the second had him sipping mint tea from a tiny cup outside the Topkapi Palace.

  ‘They were wondering why you’re never in the photos you email me. I told them it’s because you travel by yourself, and that you don’t want anyone to use your expensive digital camera. That’s why they wanted to draw pictures with you in them.’

  Thomas was touched and told Heidi that he was eager to see her children again. He shared his mother’s affection for Nick and Tania. Mrs Reynolds was always complimenting Heidi on how well she had raised them, often adding how unusual it was to see such well-behaved children. Thomas had explained to his mother that Heidi did her best to take care of her twins, spending all the time she wasn’t at work with them.

  ‘I’ll give you and the kids the rest of the gifts on Saturday,’ he said.

  ‘You spoil us.’ Heidi blushed. ‘So, go on, tell me about your trip. I enjoyed your lovely photos, and reading your emails. But I have so many questions to ask you …’

  Thomas didn’t answer immediately. He cleared his throat.

  He seems very hesitant today, Heidi thought. Is there anything wrong?

  ‘Hmm. Well, before I say any more about Istanbul, Heidi, there’s something I ought to tell you …’

  Oh my! Heidi bit her lip, convinced he’d figured out she had a crush on him. She’d been doing her best to hide it, but, even so, he’d caught on, and he didn’t like it.

  He’s understood my feelings, but how? Is it because I blush so easily? Heidi wondered. Who would like me anyhow? I’m really very ordinary physically as well as mediocre intellectually, a divorced mother with two kids.

  Her ex-husband had always told her she wasn’t worth much, and her mother had always been pessimistic about Heidi’s ability to attract a decent man. Thomas was the only man who had ever been kind to her.

  Chasing away these thoughts, Heidi gathered her courage to accept what Thomas was about to declare: that he cared about her only as a friend.

  ‘It’s hard for me to say this, because you may not want to see me any more,’ he said gravely. He looked at her, a worried expression on his kind face.

  ‘Please, go ahead!’ Heidi implored, unable to bear the anticipation any longer. ‘I’ve had bad news in my life before, more than a few times, and anything you have to say cannot possibly be as awful as all that.’

  Thomas knew how hard things had been for Heidi: pregnant at eighteen, the inevitable shotgun wedding, the abusive husband, the divorce, life as a working single mother who never had enough money, the death of her beloved father, the bad relationship with her mother …

  ‘I’ve never set foot in Turkey. Or Vietnam, or Morocco, or Portugal …’

  ‘Oh?’ Heidi replied calmly, wondering what Thomas meant. And then she thought: Is that all?

  For a moment she felt a bit puzzled by his declaration but, after a few seconds, she realised that Turkey, Vietnam, Morocco and Portugal were the countries that Thomas had said he’d visited on his twice-yearly trips.

  ‘So that’s it? That’s what you have to tell me?’

  Thomas looked up, surprised. He had expected a stronger reaction.

  How could Heidi explain that she was actually relieved at not having to face what she dreaded hearing?

  ‘Well, I expect you have your reasons for fabricating these trips,’ she finally conceded after a brief silence. ‘I mean, you must have some motive for travelling to these places in your imagination like that.’

  Wow, she really is open-minded! Thomas thought. But he still gazed at her with astonishment, wondering why she didn’t think him strange or bizarre. Maybe s
he was simply a big-hearted and kind person? He could never have been that broad-minded if someone had admitted lying to him for as long as they had known each other.

  ‘And what about the food: the pho, the tagines and the bacalao dishes you made? You’re so good at describing the aromas and … façons de faire, as you would say, from exotic places as if you really had been there.’ Heidi’s tone was euphoric.

  ‘Heidi, you know that world cuisine is my first passion in life,’ he replied a bit defensively.

  ‘It’s becoming more and more my own passion, thanks to you.’ Heidi smiled. She couldn’t really be mad at him. He had brought so much to her life.

  She looked so kind and trusting that Thomas had no choice but to continue to explain. He owed her that much, after all.

  ‘Every May and October, instead of actually travelling abroad, I just take the bus to New York for ten days or a couple of weeks.’

  Heidi, who had never even been to New York City, was more than eager to listen to Thomas’s story.

  ‘I stay at my brother Jack’s place, in the East Village. Jack goes away to Germany for work at the same time twice a year. So he lets me use his place, a nice one-bedroom apartment on a quiet street, which is really a treat in Manhattan.’

  ‘Don’t tell me that, like me, you’ve never been outside the States?’ Heidi asked. ‘You’ve also talked about Paris like you really went there, but … oh, it’s so confusing.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You’ll understand when you know everything.’

  Thomas stopped to eat a little of his kebab, then continued with his confession.

  ‘I used to travel for real.’

  ‘So you really went to Paris, didn’t you?’ Heidi asked, her eyes shining.

  ‘Yes, and several times.’

  ‘What happened, then?’

  Thomas explained that after a few trips abroad he became more and more irritated: longer and longer queues at the airport, overbooked planes, delays, babies bawling in the seat next to him, execrable food and bad movies, lost luggage …