that chipmunky look ? sorry ? and handed me a package. It was a gift-wrapped box, mind you, but the box was one that said, Church Frankincense. When I opened it, he said, ?Sorry, no myrrh today.? Then he laughed like he was some kind of biblical jokester and should go on Jeopardy. I mean, the guy had an attitude.? With that, she smiled broadly at Julian and took another slice of pizza.
?He was a good confirmation teacher,? said Arch.
?He was weird,? said Julian.
After Marla left and Arch reluctantly had finished his homework, while Julian was still banging around cleaning up the kitchen ? at his insistence ? I took my second shower of the day and resolved to get some sleep. I had been so tired when we finished dinner that twice I had felt myself sway forward with my eyes closed. The Sheriff?s Department would call if anything developed. As my head touched the pillow, I belatedly remembered my promise to call Lucille Boatwright. Undoubtedly Zelda had already done so, and with much embellishment told of the policemen?s untimely arrival at her door. I wondered if she also mentioned the interview at the Catholic church.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I visualized the ocean on a calm day. I saw Arch as a baby, laughing. I imagined seeing Tom Schulz again, what I would say, how I would hold him and not let go. I sent him a silent message to hang one.
All for nothing. Wakefulness pierced every thought. The dishwasher finished its cycle. The distant whine from Julian?s radio subsided. Snow whisked against the house. When I felt panic rise in my chest, I opened a window, inhaled the chilly, moist air, and exhaled steam. Since traffic through town was sparse, the rush of swollen Cottonwood Creek was unusually loud. I closed the window and sat down on the bed. Sleep would be impossible.
I stared at the wall. The one utterly predictable aspect of being a caterer is that you always have cooking to do. The work never ends unless you go out of town. With a noisy sigh, I trundled down to the kitchen to get a start on preparing for the women?s luncheon.
I fixed myself an espresso and pulled out the pile of Tom?s recipes. Immediately, I felt better, as if his presence emanated from the three-by-five cards. At church, Lucille had requested a seafood dish. Since it was Lent, she?d said. I had nodded to her arched eyebrow and question, I don?t suppose you have any shrimp? I had told her, Oh sure. So much for fasting.
Tom?s collection yielded a shrimp and pasta concoction that would ideally suit the churchwomen. With a cheese-based sauce, it would hold well in a chafing dish; the deep green of peas beside the pink of shrimp would make it look beautiful; and if I used wagon wheel-shaped pasta instead of spaghetti, nothing would dribble embarrassingly down anyone?s chin. Since cooked shrimp demand last-minute preparation, I set the recipe on the counter and turned with zest to the dessert section.
I flipped through Tom?s cards for apple cheese tart and Chocolate Truffle Cheesecake. Ladies? luncheons do better with cookies for dessert, I?d discovered long ago, for a couple of reasons. The dieters can take only a few and not feel cheated. Unlike cake, where the public taking of more than one piece is viewed as piggish, the nondieters can have numerous cookies in unobtrusive fashion. I would offer two types, I figured, one with chocolate and one without. For the chocolatey ones, I decided on Canterbury Jumbles, a chocolate-chip-and-nut affair that had such a wonderful Anglican name the women would feel duty-bound to eat them. I mixed up that batter, put it in the cooler, and then flipped through Tom?s recipes until I came to Lemon Butter Wafers. On the side of the card, Tom had written, B. ? Dinner ? Captain.
Canterbury Jumbles
? cup solid vegetable shortening
? cup (1 stick) of unsalted butter
2 cups firmly packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
? cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 ? cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sweetened flaked coconut
1 cup coarsely chopped macadamia nuts
1 ? cup raisins
3 cups semisweet chocolate chips
Preheat the oven to 400 . In a large mixing bowl, beat the shortening, butter, and brown sugar together until smooth. Beat in the eggs, then stir in the buttermilk and vanilla. Blend the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a small bowl; stir the flour mixture into the butter mixture until incorporated. Stir in the coconut, nuts, raisins, and chocolate chips. Drop by level half-tablespoons onto greased cookie sheets. Bake for 7 to 10 minutes, until the cookies are puffed and slightly brown. Cool on a rack. The cookies keep well in an airtight tin.
Makes 11 dozen
There was that B. again. B. for what? B. ? Read? Judas. In the dinner context, it looked less like someone?s name. Before? British? Bring? Big? I had no idea.
In any event, the Lemon Butter Wafers called for ingredients I had on hand, so I softened unsalted butter and wielded my zester over plump lemons. A fine mist of fragrant oil from the golden citrus fruit sprayed my face. I closed the door to the kitchen so as not to wake Arch and Julian, then pulverized almonds in a small food processor and carefully mixed the ingredients together. I did a trial batch: The first hot cookie was buttery, crunchy, and as lemony as a meringue pie. It melted in my mouth. I set the rest of the batter in to chill and mentally thanked Tom for his culinary expertise. The churchwomen would think their dessert was sent from heaven.
Lemon Butter Wafers
z cups (1 ? sticks) unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 z cups sifted flour
2 tablespoons very finely minced lemon zest (see note)
1/3 cup ground almonds (see note)
In the large bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter until smooth and add the sugar, beating until creamy. Beat in the eggs, scraping down the sides of the bowl. Add the flour, beating just until combined. Add the lemon zest and almonds, stirring until well incorporated. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator until well chilled, at least 3 hours.
Preheat the oven to 350 . Butter a nonstick cookie sheet. Using a ? tablespoon measure, spoon out level ? tablespoons of chilled cookie dough onto the cookie sheet, placing them 3 inches apart. Bake for about 10 minutes or until the cookies have just flattened and are lightly browned around the edges. Cool the cookies on racks. Store in a covered tin.
Makes 64.
Note: It is best to grind the almonds and mince the lemon zest in a small electric grinder such as a coffee grinder. The result is superior to that obtained with an ordinary food processor.
Variation: Spread 1 tablespoon best-quality seedless raspberry jam on the bottom of one cookie, then place
