“Like I said, she’s fine. You can tell your dad that.”
“You can tell him yourself at the alumni meeting next week.”
I roll my eyes in response. He knows full good and well I don’t talk to his father at alumni meetings. Ignoring Knox and his dad completely is the only reason I’m even able to attend.
He bends toward me and I freeze, inhaling his lemon-pineapple breath. “I know you hate me, but let me help you get these.”
I turn my head and breathe in a solid amount of cleansing air. “I won’t ever need your help.”
Okra with Corn and Tomatoes
1 cup white onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup bacon grease
3 cups okra, sliced
4 cups corn, cut from the cob
2 cups fresh tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
Heat a cast iron skillet over medium high heat and sauté onion in bacon grease for 3 minutes. Add garlic and sauté 1 minute more. Turn heat down to medium and add okra. Continue to sauté about 5 more minutes. Add remaining ingredients and cook an additional 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Cover and reduce heat to low. Simmer for 5 minutes. Add water if necessary to prevent sticking.
Yield: 8 to 10 servings
*Note: If you prefer your okra a little less gummy, soak sliced okra in 5 cups cold water with 1 tbsp lemon juice. Rinse and dry before adding to alliums.
CHAPTER TWO
This is why I don’t talk about Knox Everheart.
I really don’t like thinking about Knox Everheart. I definitely don’t like talking about him.
Sue’s sitting on a barstool just outside my kitchen, writing notes and sipping on the green drink she just made in my blender. Those green drinks obviously have benefits because her russet-brown skin is glowing. I look down at my own chestnut arm and shake my head, then flip my hoecakes onto my plate. She’s covered in dew and I’m covered in ash. Time to get the lotion, but first…syrup for my hoecakes.
“Hey, Google.” I wait for my home hub to light up. “Play ‘Mad to Cook’.”
My trusty electronic sidekick responds, “Sure. Playing ‘Mad to Cook’ by Indieknot.”
This is our pattern on Tuesdays and Fridays when I’m off and she’s on. Since I live above the restaurant, it’s an easy routine.
She puts down her pen and stares at me. “What’s your deal this morning? You’re awfully quiet. I only got two notes for today’s lunch service and three for tonight. That’s got to be a new record low.”
I set my plate on the counter across from her and pull a barstool around so I’m facing her. “What’s there to say? You’ve been doing this a couple years. You’ve got it down.”
“I’m not buying it. You always have plenty of notes.”
She puts a hand in the air when I try to object. “It’s okay. I know you trust me or you wouldn’t bother to take the day off. Something’s wrong though.”
The room lightens as the sun makes its first appearance of the day. I go over to the living room drapes and pull them open, flooding the whole apartment with light, taking a few moments to take the day in. There’re no clouds on the horizon as far as I can see. It’ll be another beautiful spring day, and I can’t wait to get outside and get those new plants in the ground. That brings my thoughts back to Knox.
“You’re chewing the inside of your cheek again. That’s never good.”
She finishes her drink, watching me as I walk back over to my cooling hoecakes.
I’m not bringing up Knox, so instead I hesitantly tell her what else is bugging me. “There’s so much I want to do with the restaurant, but my mother won’t even entertain changes. What’s the point of going to culinary school if I can’t put my degree to good use?”
Sue rests a hand on mine and smiles at me. “You bring so much to this restaurant. Your mom knows that. Five years ago, she hardly had enough people in here for lunch. Now there are folks waiting around the block. You’ve added dinner and alcohol, and it takes a month to get a reservation here. That’s all your work, love. Your idea for changing over to farm-to-table made all the difference.”
I snort and a piece of chewed hoecake comes flying out of my mouth. “Ha, please. You know half the ideas we’ve implemented have been due to your support, right? Having another trained chef has been a godsend. No way I could have done this by myself.”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Why do you do that, Rowan? You have the rawest talent of any chef I know. You never give yourself a break though. I’ve helped, but all the ideas have been yours. You’ve turned this place around. I’m just happy you gave me a chance right out of a low-level culinary school.”
Now it’s my turn to return the look she just gave me. Her school may not hold all the prestige the one Knox and I went to, but it’s hardly low-level. If anything, we’re so lucky she’s slumming it with us. “You know that’s not even close to being true.”
She takes her glass over to the sink and washes out the remaining green sludge. “Did you get my email with the new recipe I’d like to add to the menu?”
“I did and it sounds delicious. Make it for Mama and we’ll see about offering it as a special next week for dinner.”
Her shoulders fall and she gathers up her notes, tucking them in her oversize bag. “I’ll try but we barely have enough kitchen space to make a new appetizer, less known a whole cassoulet. We need to get rid of some of the slower sellers if we want to add anything substantive.”
I nod, saying out loud what we both know. “We need a bigger kitchen, Sue. Plain and simple. We’re going to have to convince Mama to move some sort of way. I was looking at reviews last
