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I looked at the textbook in his hands. It was something about psychology. I wondered why he was reading it. I noticed a stack of folders on his desk as well and what appeared to be a bunch of papers with grades. Interesting. I wonder if he graded his employees to decide which ones he was going to keep and which ones he was going to fire.
“So, what are the choices?” he said, leaning back, his arms crossed against his chest.
“I was thinking we could start with deviled eggs.”
“Deviled eggs? Okay.”
“And a salad for those who like to be healthy,” I said quickly.
“Okay. And what else?”
“I was thinking that I could also create a rack of lamb, French style.”
“Don’t even know what that means,” he said, grinning, “but okay. You’re going to be able to cook that perfectly?”
“Of course,” I said, biting my lower lip.
I didn’t know what he meant by perfectly, but the recipe said all I had to do was put olive oil, salt, and pepper on some lamb and then stick it in the oven, unless I missed a step. Then we were going to make mashed potatoes, and by “we” I meant Chelsea, who said she had a mashed potato recipe she’d found several years ago, and I thought I could do some steamed broccoli with that.
“Okay, and then what else?”
“I was thinking about cheesecake for dessert.”
Polly had said there was a Jell-O no-bake cheesecake that she always got at the grocery store that tasted just as good as Cheesecake Pantry, and all you had to do was add a couple of ingredients, stir it a couple of minutes, and put it in the fridge. That seemed easy enough to me.
“Okay then, that sounds good. What sort of cheesecake is it going to be?”
“It’s a surprise,” I said.
I didn’t want to say something I couldn’t deliver because I didn’t know what would be in the grocery store. If they only had the plain one, I’d have to do the plain one, but if they had the strawberry or the raspberry cheesecake, I could do that. Polly had also told me that Sarah Lee had a frozen cheesecake that, if you left out of the freezer for a good couple of hours to dethaw, it could pass as homemade as well. That was going to be my plan B, just in case the Jell-O no-bake cheesecake didn’t work.
“Okay, well, it sounds…” He paused. “Homey.”
“What do you mean by homey?” I asked. Was he dissing my menu?
“Oh, no. I’m just saying that it doesn’t really sound like something a Michelin Star-trained chef would create for a business party.”
“Oh, really? You don’t think French rack of lamb is something that—”
“Well, I’m more talking about deviled eggs and cheesecake.”
“Why? What did you want me to make for dessert? If you had other options or other ideas, please do tell me and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Well, I was really hoping maybe we can have a baked brie with some strawberry compote and maybe some pecans and walnuts.”
“Sure. Of course I can add that.”
“Great,” he said, “and then maybe for my non meat-eater guests you could do some scallops or a branzino.”
“Of course. I’ll do all three,” I said.
I didn’t even know what branzino was, but that was why Google was my best friend, and thank God I had my sisters here with me. Out of the three of us, we should be able to figure something out.
“Great,” he said, smiling. “I’m really looking forward to this.”
“Me too,” I said. “I’m really very excited to show you what I can do in the kitchen.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, leaning forward. “What can you do in the kitchen, Harriet?”
