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“Something like that,” Nolan says.
I look between the two men. It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago that they couldn’t be in the same room without nearly coming to blows. Now, Zander actually looks excited to be sharing the kitchen with Nolan?
It amazes me how easily men can overcome their differences. Apparently, all it took was Nolan telling Zander he’d try to stop thinking about punching him in the face so often. Now they’re best bros? Ridiculous.
I’m smiling, though. “How is this going to work?” I ask.
“Easy,” Zander says. “I’m going to boss Nolan around and he’s going to use his skills to make our lives easier and our food tastier. Right?”
Nolan eyes him for several long seconds, as if making sure we all have time to understand he could refuse Zander’s suggestion and insist on taking the reins. “Alright,” Nolan says. “One other thing. I want to start staying an hour or so late to experiment with new recipes. Anybody is welcome to join me.”
“I’ll do it,” I say quickly.
Zander and Nolan both shoot me a look.
“I have all kinds of ideas,” I say. “I want to help.”
Both men nod, but I can feel Nolan still watching me after I’ve looked away. Maybe he’s wondering if I’m only offering to stay because I want to spend time with him. Maybe I’m wondering that, too.
“Alright,” Zander claps his hands. “Enough standing around. Nolan, we need to break down the steaks still, brine the fish, and cut the crust of the dry aged meat. Where do you want to start?”
I brace myself for Nolan to get pissed at Zander ordering him around. Instead, Nolan simply takes a knife from the magnetic rack on the wall and starts sharpening it. “I got all three,” he says.
23
NOLAN
Most nights, the whole cooking staff stays for our recipe tests. Over the past week, the hour or so of experimentation we spend in the kitchen after our closing work has become a highlight for me.
It’s Friday, though, and Zander went with Paisley to a bar where they’re meeting Andi, Caroline, and most of the guys from the team.
“You’re not joining them?” I ask Mia, who is still lingering in the dining room after they leave.
“We got that special imported beef tallow in this morning,” she says, giving me a look like I’m stupid. “I’m not going to let you taste that reduction idea by yourself.”
I grin. “Suit yourself.”
We head back in the kitchen and start working silently. We’ve been at this for a few days. The idea is to show off an entire cut of meat from the cow. I don’t want to be one of those restaurants that picks the easy cuts and discards or ships off the rest. I want to find a way to showcase even the less glamorous parts of the animal. Something about that level of respect just feels right, and once I started chasing it with these recent recipes, I feel a clock ticking to figure it all out before the season starts again in a couple months.
Mia starts up several batches of the same sauce while I work on chopping the experimental ingredients. We’re trying to add a specific, high-quality beef tallow tonight, and I want to make sure we test a few variations.
I’m chopping herbs while Mia has her back to me. My eyes are drawn to the red braid dangling down her back. I focus back on my work and try not to think about what was just going through my head.
“So,” Mia says without looking my way. She’s moving side to side, stirring six separate pots of the same sauce base as hot steam rises up, filling the kitchen with a pleasant aroma. “You’ve seemed really happy since you started cooking with us here.”
“Have I?” I ask.
“You have,” she says. “Are you going to be sad when the hockey season starts?”
“No,” I say, maybe a little too quickly. “This coming season is our year. It’s like I said. Stanley Cup or bust. But I think we can do it.”
“What about Taste?”
“It’s in good hands,” I say. “I don’t know if I’ve told you this, Mia, but you are doing a good job here. You all are.”
She fully turns to look at me in surprise, fists on her hips and a smile on her face “Nolan Saulters, was that a genuine compliment?”
I look down, lips curving up. “Only if you don’t tell anyone.”
