Steamed (6 page)

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Authors: Jessica Conant-Park,Susan Conant

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Boston (Mass.), #Cooks, #Women Graduate Students

BOOK: Steamed
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“I
am
Chloe, and it’s very nice to meet you.” I smiled at him.
 
When Eric stood up, I put my hand out to shake his. Unfortunately, Eric leaned over to put his hands on my shoulders and kiss my cheek, and my outstretched hand slipped inside his jacket to rub against his waist.
Even though I have now inadvertently fondled my date, I will not die of embarrassment,
I assured myself. Mercifully, Eric appeared as flustered as I was and chose to ignore our fouled-up greeting. He pulled out a stool for me next to his and then repositioned himself in his seat.
 
“Well, I hope you’ll share your opinions with me about my potential investment tonight.” He waved his hand around the room. The hostess, Joelle, reappeared with a bottle of wine and held it out for Eric’s inspection. “Ah, Joelle, thank you,” Eric said. “I ordered us a bottle of sauvignon blanc. I hope that white’s okay with you?”
 
“Absolutely,” I replied. “I’m not much of a red wine drinker, so that’s perfect.”
 
Eric intently examined the bottle and nodded his approval. Joelle poured a bit into Eric’s glass, and I tried to avoid cringing as he staged a display of swirling, sniffing, and tasting. There was a long pause as Joelle and I silently awaited his judgment. I felt for Joelle, who had to humor customers who’d taken wine-tasting courses and now viewed themselves as amateur sommeliers.
 
Eric peered seriously off into space as he presumably garnered the effect of the wine on all his senses. I prayed to God he wasn’t planning to spit it out. Mercifully, he finally issued the opinion that the wine was fit for consumption. The hostess and I both sighed with relief. I smiled apologetically at her, and she gave me a knowing smile back. She filled our glasses and rushed off to seat a group of diners waiting by the entrance.
 
“Joelle does a nice job. Excellent hostess, as you could see. I like that in a restaurant. The hostess is the first person you have contact with when you go out to eat, and that encounter really sets the stage for the caliber of establishment,” Eric explained to me.
 
“I suppose you have to get a good feel for all aspects of a business if you’re considering investing?” I asked him.
So
far I was not into what struck me as Eric’s pretentious analysis, but if he was going to be dropping a bundle of money into this place, research and judgment were necessary. But pretension? Was it necessary, too?
 
“Of course. Timothy Rock, the owner, will come over, I’m sure. And we’ll talk with the chef, too. His name’s Garrett, and he does nice work. I used to eat at Magellan all the time, Tim’s old restaurant. Now
that
place will blow you away.”
 
Magellan was way out of my price range, but I’d read countless mouthwatering reviews in the papers and on the Internet. If things went well tonight with Eric, maybe I’d actually get a chance to eat there myself! Just the thought of a meal at the famous Magellan brought out the flirt in me. Smiling, I leaned in close to Eric. “So, you know Tim from dining at Magellan? Is that how you became a potential investor at Essence? I didn’t know Magellan had even changed hands.”
 
Eric took a slow drink of his wine before answering. “Yeah, I love Magellan. Great place for business dinners, and I took clients there all the time, so I got to know Tim pretty well. He was always out on the dining floor, talking to guests and making sure they had everything they needed. I mean, usually when you go out to eat, you don’t see the owners that much. Or maybe you do when the place first opens, but Magellan had been open for a few years, and Tim and his wife, Madeline, they owned the place together, and those two were always in the dining room, meeting people, talking. If you ate there once, they’d remember you when you came back, and that’s part of the reason Magellan has done so well. People like to feel important, that they’re ‘in’ with a restaurant, you know?”
 
I nodded. One person who clearly loved to feel important was Eric himself.
 
He continued. “Tim and Maddie never left things up to the general manager. They were at the restaurant every night. Probably one of the reasons they got divorced—too much time together working and not enough time away from the restaurant.” Eric took off his jacket and gestured for Joelle, who immediately swooped over, took his coat away, and left us with menus.
 
The menus were presented in leather-bound folders, suitable covers for the delectable descriptions inside. I looked at the appetizers, but just after drooling over Roasted Porto-bello Mushroom and Arugula with Stilton-Pink Pepper-corn Vinaigrette, I was interrupted by Eric, who resumed his monologue. “And, actually, I was such a good customer there that I ended up partying with the staff after hours. I became friendly with Tim, and when he opened Essence, he called me to invest. Partying there was also how I hooked up with my ex-girlfriend, Veronica. She does the books for Magellan, and now she works here at Essence, too.”
 
Oh, great, we’ve been here fifteen minutes, and he’s already talking about his ex. Probably hung up on her, and this is his way of letting me know he’s not totally available. Well, if he’d shut up, maybe we could get to eat, which is half the point of being here.
 
“So,” I said, trying to change the subject, “I’ve never sat so close to a kitchen like this before. It’s fun to be able to watch the chef work. I can’t wait to taste the food.” I took a gulp from my wineglass and surveyed the busy scene in front of me. Our counter curved gently around the kitchen to offer a clear view of the stoves and the prep counter. The chef, who wore the usual white coat, was rattling a pan over a hot flame. In front of us, a cook was mincing herbs with a gigantic knife.
 
But back to the menu. The appetizers all looked amazing: Steamed Countneck Clams and Nauset Mussels in a Spicy Orange Bouillon, Vegetable Spring Rolls with Spicy Strawberry Sauce and Black Vinegar Reduction . . . Oh, choosing would be impossible! Glancing ahead, I studied the entrées: Seared Trout with Purple Potato Puree; Caramelized Pineapple and a Lemon-Thyme Essence; Grilled Filet with Finger-ling Potatoes, Lobster and Artichoke Hash, and Cognac Sauce. Good God, I’d died and gone to culinary heaven! I kept reading in spite of Eric’s background commentary: “Ah, the pork is a new dish . . . Oh, good, the prawns were taken off. Not my favorite. What else? Oh, dammit, where’s the guinea fowl? And the venison? I thought that would be on by now. They must be saving my favorites for the fall menu,” Eric rambled.
 
I’d just about narrowed my choice of entrée to the Osso Buco with Sweet Potato Polenta and Roasted Root Vegetables or the Roasted Half Chicken with Warm Potato Salad and Roasted Corn Salsa when Eric snapped his fingers to summon the server to take our order. “Cassie? We’re ready.”
 
“Oh, sorry. I haven’t quite decided,” I apologized. I glanced up at Cassie and was horrified at how attractive she was. Shouldn’t the ugly servers be sent to take care of couples on a first date? With the way my love life had been going, I didn’t need nearby competition. Worse than just being hot in a
Playboy
centerfold kind of way, she was way too
cute
: gorgeous tanned skin, black hair that looked
naturally straight
, and beautiful dark eyes. Well, if things didn’t work out with Eric, maybe I’d ask her out . . . no, no, I hadn’t given up on men yet.
 
Eric shook his head while smiling at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things. I just had menus brought over to see how they read from a customer’s point of view.” Funny, since he hadn’t asked me for my supposedly valuable input. He looked over at the waitress. “Cassie, why don’t you have Garrett cook us up something special? Anything he wants. But no clams. And no cilantro. I’m tired of cilantro all over everything.” A bad sign. I love clams
and
cilantro. And his manners! My mother would have had an aneurism. But at least he hadn’t sat gawking at Cassie and her killer clevage.
 
“Of course, Mr. Rafferty. I’m sure Garrett will prepare something wonderful for you two.” She flashed a perfect, toothy smile, whisked the menu out of my hands, and dashed off into the kitchen to speak to the chef. I had wanted to order off the delectable menu and again felt embarrassed by Eric’s request for special treatment. But having the executive chef create something on his own? How many times would I get that treat?
 
“Oh, great! Here comes Timothy.” Eric looked over me and waved.
 
Timothy appeared and stood between us. He was attractive, probably in his early forties, with dark hair and only a little gray just beginning to show on the sides. He was dressed in a pair of khakis and a long-sleeved navy pullover. His dark brown eyes looked exhausted, but even fatigue couldn’t hide the obvious excitement he felt about Essence.
 
“Eric! What do you think? The place is doing okay tonight, huh? In about half an hour, we’ve got another few parties coming in. Things are picking up, I think. And this is Chloe? I’ve heard so much about you. It’s wonderful to have you here tonight. And you must convince this fine man that investing in Essence will be the best move he’s ever made.”
 
How has he heard so much about me?
I wondered.
And why does he think I have any influence over Eric and his money?
 
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said. “This is a beautiful restaurant you have. I can’t wait to try the food.”
 
“Yeah, Tim, what happened to the lobster dish you told me about? I was hoping to see that on the menu tonight,” Eric told Tim.
 
“Well, another reason to invest, my friend. I’ve been keeping the food costs down. Everything has just been so expensive. When Maddie and I opened Magellan, she took care of most of the financial arrangements and left the creative and staffing parts up to me. I didn’t realize how tough this would be. So, for now, I’ve asked Garrett to try to stick with chicken, pork, salmon . . . ingredients that can make us a good profit. I’d like to get in venison and halibut, and I’d love some Kobe beef. Garrett’s good, though—he can dress up the lower-cost food and come up with solid dishes on our budget. But he needs some pricier ingredients to work with to make the menu spectacular. Fresh morels, foie gras, that sort of stuff. We’ve got a few high-priced items thrown in, like the filet with the lobster hash. Got to have a filet—there are always people who have to have
steak
. Chefs get so damn tired of making it, so I let Garrett splurge on that—spruce it up and make it a unique dish.”
 
“That looked wonderful,” I spoke up. “I was thinking about ordering it, but Eric is having the chef do something for us.” I paused. “I hope that’s all right?”
 
“Excellent. I’m glad you went ahead and asked. Actually, I’ve already arranged for Garrett to give you a tasting. I’ve brought in a few more ingredients for him to play with tonight so you can see what the menu could look like if we had another investor to increase our budget.” Tim winked at me and patted Eric’s shoulder. “But Garrett’s coming along. This is his first
executive
chef gig, and he’s struggling a bit, but I think he’s going to work out. I begged Maddie to let me take Josh from Magellan, but there was no way she was parting with him. Not that I blame her. I wouldn’t have parted with him either. Josh Driscoll is unreal. I don’t know how we were lucky enough to find him. But she let him help Garrett with the menu, which has been great. And she let me take Magellan’s hostess, Joelle, and one of the waiters, Ian, so that’s helped me out a ton. And even Veronica to do the books here, too.”
 
Just then, a tall flame leaped from the grill, and Tim, Eric, and I reflexively leaned away from the heat.
 
Chef Garrett started yelling at no one in particular. “Dammit! Who turned the heat up? Where are my apps? Move it, move it!” He rubbed his eyes and continued working over the now-subdued grill, sweat visible on his forehead and neck.
 
Eric just shook his head and smiled and called over to Garrett, “You okay?”
 
“Yeah, just my damn eyebrows again. Third time this week I’ve singed ’em. Might as well just shave them off and get it over with,” he answered. Garrett shook a saucepan, violently mixing its contents and sending an aromatic cloud our way. He turned around to face us. “Hey, Eric! Sorry, I’ve been so crazed tonight, I didn’t even see you at my counter. Hope I haven’t scared you off from joining forces?” Garrett reached out to shake Eric’s hand.
 
“No way, kid. Things are looking good to me.” Eric pumped Garrett’s hand. “Just gotta taste your dishes tonight, though, to make sure! I can’t pass up a free meal,” Eric snickered.
 
“Don’t worry,” Tim assured him. “If you get on board with Essence, every meal here’ll be on the house, of course.” A look of concern cut across his face.
 
“Hey, I’m just kidding. I know you’ll take care of me,” Eric said. “Oh, Garrett, this is Chloe. She’s the one you’re really going to have to impress.”
 
“Well, then, Chloe. What’ll it be?” Garrett asked. “Any special requests?”
 
I was momentarily distracted by the chef ’s charred eyebrows but managed to regain my composure enough to say that I was sure anything he made would be outstanding.

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