Read A Purrfect Romance Online
Authors: J.M. Bronston
B
ridey’s wedding dress was a replica of the one worn by her Grandmother Caroline. They had copied it from the faded, cracked photo they’d found among Henrietta’s papers. Flowers were woven through her hair, and a soft veil fell gracefully from the band that circled her head. Her bouquet was an armful of calla lilies, tied with a broad ribbon of white satin, and as she walked down the aisle, an aura of grace and loveliness surrounded her.
For the rest of his life, Mack would remember—and always with a catch in his throat—how beautiful she looked that day.
Gerald Kinski gave her away, and he was as proud as any father as he walked her down the aisle.
Marge, whose wedding gift was a gorgeous crystal bowl from Lobmeyr, was striking in a simple suit of pale green linen, with only a small cluster of pearls in her dark hair.
Doug Braye and Art Kohler were there, too, looking as satisfied as a couple of well-fed tigers. Their gift, an exquisite sterling-silver coffee service from Tiffany, cost the firm a fortune, but nothing was too good for their best client, and anyway, their books would show it as a business expense, to be taken as a tax deduction.
Bridey’s Grandma Berrigan was there, beaming proudly at the beautiful bride, and all the cousins and aunts and uncles were there, too. They were still a little awestruck at the incredible—the miraculous—good fortune that had come into her life, what with her sudden and practically inconceivable great wealth, the publication of her book and the appearance of her picture in
Lady Fair
. Grandma Berrigan carried the magazine everywhere with her, in case she ran into someone who, by some chance, hadn’t seen it.
Present also was Gilbert Forsgren, the referee who had presided over the hearing at which it was determined that Bridey was indeed Henrietta’s first cousin once removed, which was, of course, better than a first cousin twice removed. With him, also, was His Honor Vincent Mallory, the judge who had ruled, in a separate proceeding, that a natural heir had been found and, under the terms of Henrietta’s will, the entire estate should therefore pass to Bridey, free of all claims and impediments. Of course, their invitations had not been sent until after they’d made their rulings, so as to avoid any hint of impropriety or any suggestion of an effort to influence their decisions.
The two men arrived together, bearing a joint wedding gift, the most recent edition of Greenwood’s
The Researcher’s Guide to American Genealogy
, updated to include the latest computer techniques.
But the special guests of honor were Silk and Satin, who rested on a white pillow on the front pew of the church, wearing festive white silk bows around their necks. Silk’s babies, born only three weeks earlier, were of course too young to attend and remained at home, where they slept through the whole ceremony in their nest, which Bridey had fashioned out of the “magical” storage box that had contained the Merrill box, Henrietta’s manuscript, the photos and all the documents that had revealed the connection between her and Henrietta Willey.
The wedding reception was held in the huge living room of apartment 12A, following the church ceremony. Bridey had planned the menu, from canapés to after-dinner mints, and, though she’d entrusted the food preparation to caterers, she’d insisted on making the wedding cake herself. She even agreed to allow Marge’s best photographers to move discreetly among the guests, capturing wonderful pictures of the food, the clothes, the setting, even Silk and Satin and the kittens, to be published in
Lady Fair
’s next issue, along with recipes and text by Bridey herself.
Amid the music, the marvelous food and the general merrymaking, it was soon the kittens’ turn to be the center of admiring attention, as one guest after another came into the cats’ room off the kitchen to ooh and aah over the antics of the darling babies, each one an intriguing mix of blue-gray and midnight black. Silk stayed close to them, being careful that everyone kept a safe distance, while Satin retired to his own bed, waiting for all the racket to be done with.
Only Mrs. Maudsley, sipping coolly at her martini, found something to complain about.
“And now,” she whispered to her husband, lifting her chin toward a beaming Mack, who had his arm around a glowing Bridey, “I suppose they’ll be having a mob of kids, and the whole twelfth floor will be a gaggle of noisy children and animals.” She sipped again at her martini. “What would the old girl have thought of that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Harold said. He glanced up at the portrait. “I get the feeling she’d be okay with it.”
Indeed Henrietta was smiling down from her portrait as though it pleased her, now that everything had come out right, to see that once again her home was the scene of the perfect party. The guests were enjoying themselves, the food was perfect and the champagne flowed lavishly. And when Max the doorman and Tom the elevator operator dropped by to offer their best wishes on the merger of 12A and 12B, each of them was given a piece of cake and a glass of champagne.
Yes indeed. The old girl seemed to be happy about the whole thing.
Szekely Goulash
(from Hungary)
Maria Molnar and her husband, Gabor, run a little restaurant in Bridey’s hometown, on Wren’s Road in Warrentown, just off Route 9. Bridey had summer jobs in the restaurant while she was in high school, and it was in Maria’s kitchen that Bridey discovered Hungarian cuisine, a wondrous mixture of Magyar, Turkish, Transylvanian and—from the days of Empire—Austrian.
1½ tablespoons oil or 2 tablespoons butter
1 large onion, diced
2½ tablespoons paprika
2 tablespoons tomato puree
½ teaspoon caraway seeds
1 bay leaf
2 pounds lean pork, cut in small cubes
1 bottle (12 oz.) light beer
2 pounds sauerkraut, very well drained
Salt to taste
¾ cup sour cream
In a large, deep pan or Dutch oven:
Serve with flat noodles or dumplings.
Doro Wat
(Ethiopian Chicken)
When Bridey was in sixth grade, she did a geography report on Ethiopia. Her best friend’s big sister, Beany Norquist, from across the street, was in the Peace Corps in East Africa, and she sent back this recipe to Bridey, along with a packet of berbere spices, the recipe for injera and instructions on how to use it to scoop up the stew—but only with her right hand!
¼ pound butter
½ cup water
3 large onions diced
¾ cup water or light beer
6-ounce can tomato paste
1 whole chicken, cut into about 12 pieces
Hard-boiled eggs, peeled (1 for each person)
3 rounded tablespoons berbere (see note below)
1 teaspoon salt
In a large, deep pan or Dutch oven:
The sauce should be rather thick; if it is too thin, allow some of the water to cook off.
And mop up the sauce with Ethiopia’s crêpelike bread, injera
.
(See recipe for injera on page 189.)
Note: The berbere is a mixture of chili, coriander, cloves, cardamom, ajowan, allspice, black pepper, nigella, fenugreek seed, cinnamon and ginger.
Berbere spices used in Ethiopian cooking, such as ajowan and nigella seeds, are available online from Amazon and from Zamouri Spices, Kalustyan’s Spices and Sweets and Nirmala’s Kitchen.
Injera
(Ethiopian crêpes)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup buckwheat flour
2 tablespoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups club soda or light beer
1 cup rice vinegar
Oil for the pan
Chili con Carne
(Grandma Berrigan’s version, feeds many)
Every year, at Halloween, the fall evenings were nippy in Warrentown, and the trick-or-treaters had to wear coats and mittens over their costumes. Grandma Berrigan would make up a big pot of chili and the kids would stop by on Bridey’s front porch so her grandmother could warm them up with a bowl of hot chili handed out through the kitchen window. Her recipe required a lot of work, so she made it only once a year, but it was so good and so festive and so easy to spoon up, even with mittens on, it was well worth it.
Bridey likes to cook from scratch. But she’s learned that some dishes are improved by a mix of fresh and canned ingredients. Her version of Grandma Berrigan’s chili, for example, combines dry beans and canned, and also adds some canned chili to the pot.
Her recipe is very flexible and can be easily modified to suit any taste. Purists shouldn’t object to the bottled ketchup. It works extremely well.
1½ pounds dry beans, any variety (1½ pounds, altogether)
cold water to cover, plus 2 inches
1 pound ground beef
1 pound sausage (hot or mild, to your taste; Bridey likes sweet Italian)
1 pound beef (round or chuck), cut in small chunks, as for
stroganoff
1½ tablespoons olive oil
3 medium onions, diced
2 cloves minced garlic
¼ teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon marjoram or thyme
½ teaspoon cumin
6-ounce can tomato paste
2 cans cooked beans (any variety)
1 can chili con carne
handful of fresh cilantro, chopped, but not too fine
12 ounces tomato ketchup or to taste
3–4 tablespoons masa harina
Salt, to taste
Pepper flakes (added later, if more bite is wanted)
1 whole green pepper, diced
1 red onion, sliced thin
shredded cheese (cheddar, for example)
And serve—to loud acclaim!
Swedish Beef with capers, beets and egg yolks
(Biff a la Lindström)
Parties at the Norquist home across the street always featured a magnificent smörgåsbord—a fabulous buffet array of Swedish delicacies—and Mrs. Norquist loved to have the children cook with her. Bridey and Mrs. Norquist’s youngest daughter, Pia, were only four years old and already best friends, and both girls loved to cook “like grown-ups.” Bridey remembers the day Mrs. Norquist pulled a couple of tall chairs over to the kitchen counter and taught the little girls how to mash and form the mixture that makes this delicious version of little Scandinavian hamburgers. Bridey felt so special, being allowed to prepare treats for the guests, and still believes this affectionate and homey environment was the beginning of her love of good cooking.
2 pounds ground beef (chuck or round, lean)
3 baking potatoes, boiled and mashed
3 egg yolks
¾ cup heavy cream or sour cream
3 pickled beets, diced
1 large onion, chopped fine
3 tablespoons capers, chopped
salt
white pepper or sweet paprika
3 tablespoons butter
Parsley sprigs
Serve with fried potatoes (Swedish style, fried with a little sugar).
Beef Bourguignon
(so French, so very French!)
Bridey knows that great cuisine comes from every corner of the earth, but she is convinced the French have something special. As she told Mack, you can’t have good cooking without something from France. One of her dreams is to someday spend many weeks wandering all over France, learning how that “something special” is achieved. Her recipe for beef bourguignon is one version; she knows there are others.
½ pound bacon, cut in small cubes
2 teaspoons olive oil (more if needed)
3 pounds stewing beef, cut in small cubes
1 medium onion, sliced
1 clove garlic minced
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons flour
3 cups full-bodied red wine
1 tablespoon tomato paste (optional)
¼ teaspoon marjoram
¼ teaspoon thyme
1 dried bay leaf
2 cups beef bouillon or beef stock (canned is okay)
(Optional: flambé a small glass of cognac or brandy and add to the meat just before serving.)
Serve with small buttered potatoes.