“Is that the one from Chez Marc?” Kyle peered at the paper. “Yes. At least I think it is. It’s his recipe for roast chicken with something on the side. What does that say? Rots manageable? That can’t be right.”
“Root vegetables, maybe,” I suggested.
“Yes!” Kyle said enthusiastically. “Root vegetables! The chef does the most amazing root vegetable puree that he flavors with cardamom.”
“See?” Ade said. “Chloe is a natural.”
Kyle smiled at her. “I think you’re right. I better hire her, don’t you think?” He turned to me. “What do you say? Has this folder of chaos scared you off?”
I laughed. “Not at all. I can get in touch with these chefs and have them clarify any confusion we have, and then I’ll type everything up. Maybe we could get a little background on each chef? And have a short bio or an introduction of some sort for the recipe?”
“Perfect! I’ll pay you by the hour, so just keep track of your time and give me a total at the end of each week.” Kyle quoted me an hourly sum that was twice what I’d hoped for.
When our appetizers arrived, Adrianna practically inhaled her plate. “I had no idea how much I missed real food,” she said with a sigh. “This lobster mac and cheese is unbelievable. Owen refuses to eat seafood at home since he’s around it all day. Not that we can afford to be buying expensive fish fillets right now anyhow, but I’m pretty damn sick of eating plain chicken and pork chops, so this is such a luxury, Kyle.”
Kyle laughed and smiled at my pal. “Please, it’s nothing. So his work isn’t going well? I’m sorry to hear that. And you at home with a young child? It sounds like things are tough right now.”
Ade stuffed her mouth and nodded. God, she was really packing it in. Admittedly the food was excellent. My braised short ribs with hoisin sauce and wasabi mashed potatoes were outstanding. So was the watermelon appetizer. Who would’ve thought of this combination? But the sweet vinegar dressing went perfectly with the fruit, cheese, and meat. I was in heaven. But it seemed that Adrianna’s ravenous appetite had erased her memory of table manners. I signaled to her to wipe her mouth.
She paused for air. “Yeah, he works hard as a seafood salesman, believe me, but I wouldn’t complain if his paycheck was double what it is. At least he’s had the same job for longer than a month. Progress, I suppose.”
“Owen has a history of trying his hand at a… well, a varied set of careers,” I explained.
“He’s worked on a blimp, assisted a puppeteer, sold insurance,” Adrianna said as she counted on her fingers. “You get the idea. So we’re all pleased that he’s trying to stick this one out and build up a solid set of customers. But you know how tough the restaurant business is. The restaurants struggle just like everyone else does. Sometimes they don’t want to pay much above cost, so Owen ends up making pennies off of the product he sells. Plus, that damn refrigerated truck pisses through gas, and he’s got to cover that himself.”
I glared at Adrianna. How could she dare to say
“Would you like to work on the cookbook, too? You could make some extra money,” Kyle offered.
“God no! I mean, thank you and all, but organizational skills are not my thing right now. I can barely keep my eyes open most of the time. I’m so tired that I’m putting dishes away in the freezer and ice cream in the cabinet. I throw clothes in the dryer and forget to turn it on, and then I can’t figure out why they’re still wet two hours later. Besides, Chloe will be really good for you, and I wouldn’t want to mess that up.”
“Let me know if you change your mind. I’m sure there’ll be enough to do. So, Chloe, maybe you can start by seeing what you can make out of the mess in the folder. There’s a list in there of restaurants my father wants me to approach, but the one we really have to deal with immediately is a place called Simmer. Do you know anything about that place?”
My stomach dropped. Simmer was Josh’s restaurant, or rather, his former restaurant. He had slaved over helping to open Simmer last New Year’s Eve and had routinely worked twelve-hour or even fourteen-hour days, often six days a week. He had given his all to that damn restaurant until the pressure and unreasonable demands from his cokehead boss, Gavin, had nearly made Josh crack. When the owner’s drug problem hit an all-time high, pardon the pun, Gavin had been shipped off to rehab and had temporarily closed the restaurant. Josh’s friend Digger took over as the executive chef for roughly two weeks before the owner closed the doors permanently and sold the place to a buyer who turned it into a high-end bakery. Josh’s experience at Simmer was, I thought, the main reason that he’d run off to Hawaii.
My face must have turned ashen, because Adrianna nudged me under the table. Finally, she spoke. “Chloe knows all about Simmer. It was a wonderful restaurant that served some of the best food in Boston, but it closed a few months ago.”
Kyle’s face lit up. “Oh, Chloe, do you know the chef? Josh something, right? Do you know where he is now?”
I cleared my throat. “Um, I think he’s in Hawaii.”
“Damn.” Kyle sighed. “My father ate at Simmer once last spring. He said that the food was outstanding. He had a fresh vegetable spring roll with mango sauce that he still talks about. It’s the one restaurant that he insisted on. He said that it had to be in the book.” Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really needed the chef for this project. My father is going to kill me. I probably shouldn’t even be trying to make this whole thing happen.” Kyle looked at us. “Sorry, I’m just really stressed out about my father’s visit, as you can tell. He’s not exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type.”
I did have Josh’s e-mail address, so technically I could get in touch with him. But it didn’t seem right to have ignored all of his attempts to contact me and then suddenly write him a note to beg for a recipe. What could I say?
“A guy named Digger replaced Josh briefly before they closed, but I’m sure we can do something with the material you already have, Kyle.” I tried to sound reassuring. “There’s probably a lot more here in your folder than you think, and we’ll get some more recipes before your father comes. He won’t even notice that Josh’s recipe isn’t included.”
Kyle managed a smile. “Believe me, he’ll notice. He notices everything. Well, what about this Digger person that you said took over after Josh left? Do you know where he is?”
Ade shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Digger might have been and maybe still was Josh’s good friend, but the details of how he’d taken over Josh’s job had been a little sketchy. The sequence of his accepting the job and Josh’s quitting was open to question, and even if Josh had resigned first, there was an unwritten rule in the restaurant world that banned moving in on another chef’s territory the way Digger had. Josh had spent months complaining about how he was being treated at Simmer, and for Digger to move there with no hesitation suggested callousness about how beaten up Josh had been. But Josh had let it go. He and Digger had gone to culinary school together and had been close friends ever since. I was much more bothered by Digger’s behavior than Josh was.
I hadn’t seen Digger since Josh had taken off, but I had his phone number. As reluctant as I was to contact someone so close to Josh, I desperately needed a job, and this one was really perfect for me. “Yes, I know Digger. I’m sure he’d contribute some recipes for the cookbook. I’m not sure what restaurant he’s at now, but he’s a very skilled chef-excellent-so it’s probably someplace you’ll be glad to include.”
Kyle brightened. “Do you think he’d have any recipes from Simmer?”
I shrugged. “Possibly. He wasn’t there that long, but he might.” As pissed as I was at Josh, I would never ask Digger for Josh’s recipes, which belonged to Josh and not to Digger. Besides, chefs kept some recipes secret, so Josh might not have told even his good friend how to make some of his specialties. There was also Digger’s pride to consider: although I hadn’t quite forgiven him for taking Josh’s job, I could hardly show more eagerness for Josh’s recipes than for his own. When I talked to him, I’d need to be tactful.
“That would be fantastic! I’ll e-mail my father and let him know that we’re working on a lead. It’ll be better if he thinks this book is well underway, and I ought to be able to catch up before he gets to Boston.”
“What’s he doing in France?” I asked.
“Oh, supposedly he’s traveling the country for research purposes. Learning new regional cuisines and all that. But mostly he’s just showing off his latest trophy wife, Miranda. This is his fourth wife in the past eleven years. Once this most recent young wife shows the first sign of losing her looks, my father will drop her and move on. But for now, Dad is enjoying showing Miranda off, and I’m sure she’s been paraded around at every possible European
