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“Yeah. I didn’t let it sit on my tongue first.”
“Rookie mistake.” I take another drink. “Try again. If it doesn’t grow on you, I’ll get you something else.”
She nods, takes another sip. This time when she swallows, it goes down more easily, based on what I see from her neck and facial expression.
“Better?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She twists her lips. “It’s… I can taste licorice. It’s almost a fresh taste.”
“That’s the absinthe and the bitters.” I reach for the cocktail menu. “Would you like me to order you something else?”
She shakes her head. “I’m here for the full immersive experience. I’m going to eat and drink whatever you put in front of me tonight.”
Her words arouse me. Words of pure submission. Words of letting me have control over this meal. Over her life—at least for the next couple of hours.
My groin tightens.
God, I want my cock inside her tonight.
I’ve waited long enough.
Then I erase the thought from my mind. Waited long enough? I’ve only known her for a few days.
She’s worth it.
If I have to wait a year to have her, I will.
Did that thought really just cross my mind? I’ve never waited a year for a woman.
Mary takes another drink of her Sazerac. “You know? This definitely has promise.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
The server returns with glasses of water for both of us along with our turtle soup.
“Okay,” Mary says when the server excuses himself. “Tell me what I’m about to eat. And be very specific.”
“Do you want all the history?”
“Sure.” She leans toward the soup and inhales. “Like I said, the total immersive experience.”
“I’ve heard the story since I was a kid. My grandmother told us stories about all of her food. Turtle soup has its roots here in New Orleans. It was inspired by the turtle soup that was popular in France, where turtle meat was considered a delicacy. The original recipe here called for snapping turtle meat, which was readily available in nearby swamps and bayous.”
She nods. “What kind of turtle is in this soup?”
“My grandmother still uses snapping turtle, but it’s ethically sourced. Some restaurants that don’t want to go to the expense use other meats.”
Mary wrinkles her forehead. “Then it’s not really turtle soup, is it?”
“No.”
“I’ve heard of mock turtle soup,” she says. “Is that what it is, then?”
“If you don’t use actual turtle, then it’s always mock turtle soup. But they still call it turtle soup, and with the same spices, they can mimic the flavor pretty well.”
She stares at her bowl but doesn’t reach for her spoon. “What else is in the soup?”
“Mémé uses a traditional tomato-based broth and seasons it with bay leaf, thyme, garlic, cloves, and black pepper. It’s delicious. Rich and flavorful. She adds a touch of cayenne for a little bit of heat. Then the sherry adds a certain je ne sais quoi.”
