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Some people said roast beef was ordinary. I say roast beef is only as interesting as the person who cooks it. Maybe those folks who think it’s ordinary should look at themselves before they limit me. My au jus was seasoned with onion, wine, and spices, and I left lots of boiled potato chunks in the mashed potatoes. I used nutritional yeast to cut the salt and added other seasonings to boost flavor without adding fat and calories. Comfort food that won’t kill you. That was my niche.
The farm was bustling with activity as I pulled into the wide drive.
“Jo!” Just Jo now. Still Sammy Jo to my family, though. Samantha Jolene. It was a nod to one of Mom’s favorite songs about a husband-stealing beauty queen, something I most definitely was not. That fact had been used to torment me in high school, along with the name “Jell-O Jolene,” which was the mean girls’ take on my body type. Otherwise, the name was fine. And high school was over, thank God.
“Welcome,” Emily greeted me. I stepped inside the big barn, closing the door against the gray drizzle. “Bob, Finn, this is Jo. We work together, and she’s catering the lunch today. She helped The Elliot cater Dan and Carrie’s wedding last week. Jo, this is my boyfriend, Finn Bakker, and his father, Bob.”
A tall, broad man with eyes only for Emily stepped closer with a warm smile and knock-out dimples. “It’s nice to meet you. We’ve been looking forward to this,” he said.
“Thank you. I hope you like it. Where should I set up?”
“We’ll grab a couple of people to help. Hang on,” Emily said as she and Finn rushed off.
“I believe you spoke with my wife, Donna.” I nodded to Bob. “How long have you been a chef?” he asked.
My mostly makeup-free face and dark ringlet curls made me look younger than twenty-seven. “It’s been about five years since I finished culinary school in the Bay Area, California. I apprenticed in pastry and worked for a few caterers in Silicon Valley. I moved to Seattle a couple of years ago to chef at a restaurant downtown. The Elliot made me an offer, and here I am. What foods do you like to eat?”
“Anything that’s bad for me,” he rubbed his rounded stomach. “But my bride would have me eat raw vegetables and salads all day.” He grimaced. “I had a heart attack last fall. If you could make something that tastes good and would pass her heart health tests, I’ll love you forever.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I liked Bob.
A tall, striking woman with rich golden skin and a soft expression appeared beside him. “You must be Jo. I’m Donna. Thank you for taking this on.”
Emily and her boyfriend approached with two men in heavy work boots swatting the dust off their Carhartt pants. “Let’s get you going in the kitchen before the masses roll in,” Donna said.
The food table was decimated,filling me with pride. Cooking for people who appreciated it filled my heart like nothing else. Empty bowls and chafing dishes stood barren on the bright green tablecloth.
“The food was excellent,” Emily said.
“Thank you again for the recommendation to your family.”
“Boyfriend’s family, but maybe mine too someday.” She blushed. “Finn’s dad retired, and he and Donna plan to travel. Handing off this meal tradition gets them closer to that.”
“Well, I appreciate it, and I’m available for other side gigs. If you know anyone who needs on-site catering or a personal chef, please keep me in mind.” I needed to get business cards printed. I added that to my mental to-do list.
“Absolutely.”
With the few leftovers packed and on the way to Donna’s kitchen fridge, I headed out to my car with the empty service pans and remaining Sterno. Rex, the Bakker’s shepherd-mix farm dog I met earlier, bounced around my feet but not too close to trip me. I gave him a pat as he escorted me back to the barn to finish cleaning up. I ducked into the kitchen and grabbed another stack of clean prep dishes.
“Roast beef?” A deep voice echoed from the adjacent hallway. “This chef thinks that’s good for Dad’s heart. That’s a fail.”
“This is not just any roast beef, Luc,” Donna said. “The meat was lean and the au jus flavorful, but not dripping with fat. Have a little faith. It's one less thing I have to worry about.” Weariness laced her upbeat tone.
“You’re right, Mom. I’m not trying to make this hard. I’m concerned about Dad’s diet. We all are. We’ll give him a few tries, but if he can’t stick to heart-healthy food, we’ll have to keep looking.”
“Luc,shewill be fine. You’ll see.”
Donna hired me. I hoped this Luc guy couldn’t get me fired. I needed this job and a few more.
Rent in a vacation town wasn’t cheap, even if the apartment and appliances were crap, and my little Subaru, Sheila, well, she needed some major work done, and that cost money I didn’t have. If I didn’t pick up more jobs soon, I would have to make a new plan, and I was getting sick and tired of making new plans.
3
LUCAS
Dressed in running gear,I kissed Mom on the cheek and passed the doorway of the barn’s big room, still filled with the savory aroma of beef and spices. My stomach growled. It may not be good for Dad’s heart, but it would be good for my stomach. Not today. I needed a run. I had eaten too many of Mom’s holiday sweets, and it was showing, despite the fact I worked out five days a week.
Outside, the midday drizzle would be invigorating, saturated with the scent of earth and trees. Quite a difference from the bus exhaust and random alley garbage smells in downtown Seattle. I loved living in the city, but I liked running in Perry Harbor.
