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Authors: Dianne Blacklock

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BOOK: The Secret Ingredient
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‘Okay, I'm impressed.'

‘I'd like to be impressed too,' said Andie, feeling like they were speaking in a foreign language. Which they were, come to think of it.

‘It's Spanish ham,' Dominic explained. ‘Arguably the best in the world.'

‘But that's not all, Andie,' said Elliot. ‘It only comes from black Iberian pigs that range free in the oak forests on the border of Spain and Portugal, and for the final period before slaughter they are fed solely on acorns.'

Andie frowned. ‘Okay, so this is another one of your private jokes?'

They both laughed. ‘No,' Elliot assured her. ‘Although I know it sounds like something wanky that'd be served in Dom's kitchen, just wait until you taste it.'

Andie sat back, sipping her wine and watching the two men cook, as they riffed off each other, bouncing insults and one-liners with the synchronicity that came only after years of friendship.

‘Now, the final secret of a good paella is the layer of toasted rice at the bottom of the pan,' said Elliot. ‘At the end of cooking, you place the pan over a high flame and listen for the rice toasting. Once the aroma wafts upwards, remove it from the heat,' he said, lifting the pan and setting it down on the bench. He covered it with a tea towel. ‘The towel will absorb the remaining broth, and it'll be ready to eat in about five minutes.'

He placed it on the centre of the chef's table and passed around bowls so they could dish up themselves.

‘I'd like to serve it like this in the restaurant,' said Elliot. ‘To have parties of four or even six order it for the table. I don't know if it'll work.'

‘This is so good,' Andie said, savouring her first forkful.

‘What'd I tell you?' said Elliot. ‘This is real, unadulterated —'

‘You can't say it's unadulterated,' Dominic scoffed. ‘It has been cooked, it's what separates us from the animals.'

‘But, Andie,' Elliot appealed to her, ‘isn't this better than eating some indistinguishable, tortured piece of something or other, placed on the plate like a work of sculpture rather than a meal?'

‘If you're referring to Dominic's food, I'm the wrong person to ask, because I think it's extraordinary,' said Andie.

‘Ha, good choice of word – “extra-ordinary”. Out of this world. Like sci-fi, or postmodern art.'

‘So what if it's like art?' she said. ‘The best art fills the senses, excites, makes you see things in a different way.'

Dominic nudged Elliot. ‘What she said.'

‘All due respect, I don't know that I agree,' said Elliot. ‘I reckon fine dining has become more like those fashion shows. Regular people wouldn't be seen dead in what they parade on the catwalk, in fact, most of it's unwearable.'

‘Maybe,' said Andie, ‘but surely there's room for both – food that nurtures and satisfies and feels comforting and familiar. And food that pushes the boundaries, and offers an experience that simpler food can never achieve?'

Elliot looked at Dominic. ‘She's very diplomatic.'

Andie smiled. ‘So how do you two know each other?' she asked.

‘I had the misfortune of meeting Elliot at high school,' said Dominic.

‘What are you talking about?' he retorted. ‘You only survived high school because of me.'

‘That's true actually.'

‘He was such a nancy boy,' said Elliot, ‘straight off the boat from England. If not for me he would have been beaten up on a daily basis.'

‘Really?'

‘I'm afraid so,' Dominic admitted. ‘I had to pay him protection money.'

‘No,' said Andie, ‘I mean, you immigrated from England when you were in high school?' So that really was an accent, he wasn't just being pompous. ‘Were you one of those Ten Pound Poms?'

‘How old do you think I am?' he objected.

But Elliot just laughed. ‘Can you imagine if your old man heard that? That'd make his aristocratic blood boil.'

‘Gerou doesn't sound very English?' Andie asked, curious.

‘It isn't,' said Dominic. ‘It's my mother's name, actually. An odd blend of French and Greek, of all things, but a long way back.'

‘He was still Dominic Chamberlain when I first met him,' said Elliot.

‘Why did you change it?'

He hesitated. ‘My father and I didn't see eye to eye on much back then. So in a fit of youthful petulance, I dropped his name for my mother's. Just to piss him off, really.'

He couldn't just leave that hanging in the air. To Andie's surprise, he didn't.

‘My father was a QC,' Dominic went on. ‘I was expected to follow the same path. So I took law at university, but I wasn't very good at it, so I dropped out.'

‘You hated it,' said Elliot.

‘But I wasn't doing well.'

‘Because you hated it,' he repeated.

‘Did you always want to be a chef?' Andie asked Dominic.

Elliot laughed at that. ‘He needed a job once he got kicked out of home.'

‘They didn't kick me out,' Dominic chided. ‘My father just gave me some ultimatums that I chose not to meet.'

‘Now who's being diplomatic,' Elliot muttered.

‘It's the truth. Besides, they were going back to England, and I wanted to stay . . .'

‘I was an apprentice chef at the time,' Elliot explained, ‘and Dom was sleeping on my couch. I got him a job as a kitchenhand so at least he could pay for his own food.'

‘That's how you got started?'

Dominic nodded, with a faint, almost sheepish smile.

Andie was amazed. He was not some elite, cordon bleu career chef, he was almost an accidental chef. ‘So then you fell in love with it?'

Dominic and Elliot exchanged a glance.

‘It was a job,' Dominic shrugged, ‘no better or worse than anything else I could have got at the time. I needed to support myself.'

‘He worked really hard,' Elliot broke in. ‘Never complained, did every shitty job that was given to him, which was impressive for a boy with blue blood running through his veins. My boss ended up putting him on as an apprentice, and the rest,' he said grandly, ‘as they say, is history.'

‘Thank you for a wonderful meal, I had such a great time,' said Andie as Elliot saw them out the side door.

They agreed to finally call it a night when they noticed it was past eleven. They all had to work tomorrow, and Dominic had to do the round trip across the bridge and back to take Andie home.

‘Thank you for getting this guy to finally come to my restaurant,' said Elliot.

‘It had nothing to do with me.'

‘Oh, I think it might have,' he said cryptically, giving Dominic a thump on the arm. ‘So, Sal will give you a call, Dom, we'll make a night at our place. I'll look forward to seeing you again then, Andie.'

He stood in the doorway as they walked down the side of the building towards the street where the car was parked.

‘And I'll be in touch about that apartment,' he called after them.

‘Thank you, I appreciate it.'

‘He's great,' Andie said after they drove away.

Dominic nodded. ‘I thought you'd like him. He's been a good friend to me, the best.'

‘I could see that.'

He glanced at her. ‘I hope you didn't mind sharing the date with him?'

‘No, of course not.'

Sharing the date with Elliot in fact had been a revelation. Dominic was the most relaxed she'd ever seen him, and she was certain she wouldn't have learned so much about his background if Elliot hadn't been there, goading him along and filling in the gaps. It was so different to the Christmas lunch where he couldn't, or wouldn't, answer a straight question. Now she knew a lot more about him, and she found herself wanting to know even more.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?' she said as they joined the expressway that would take them to the bridge.

He glanced at her. ‘Go ahead.'

‘Do you have a problem with drinking?'

Now he turned his head fully to look at her.

Andie winced. ‘Sorry, that sounded like I was asking if you're a problem drinker.'

‘I don't have a problem with drinking,' he said with a sigh. ‘Though I think this country might have a problem with drinking. It seems that if you're moderate, you're immediately suspect.'

‘I'm sorry, you're right. I shouldn't have brought it up.'

‘It's okay,' he said kindly. ‘I don't mind telling you that in my deep dark past, I made some stupid mistakes that I'm lucky to have lived through. Nowadays I just don't like that feeling of being out of control, I suppose it brings back too many bad memories, those that I can remember, at least.'

‘You have a deep dark past?' Andie raised an eyebrow.

He gave her a cryptic smile. ‘Did I say that?'

When he pulled up outside her house, he jumped out of the car so quickly he was opening the door for her before she'd picked up her handbag. Andie wondered if he was hoping to be invited inside, but he seemed too . . . reserved, or gentlemanly, or something, to be expecting to bed her at the first opportunity. Whatever Jess had to say about getting laid, it really would complicate things. Because he was her boss. Andie decided she was going to have to say something. He was standing holding the door now, offering her his hand. Andie took it as she stepped out of the car, but as soon as she was on her own two feet, he released her hand again.

‘I had a really nice time tonight, Dominic,' she said.

‘Me too.' He had that nervous look about him again; maybe he was the kind of guy who wanted to jump into bed on the first date?

‘So, I was wondering . . . well —'

‘I would ask you in,' Andie said quickly, ‘but it's my parents' house and —'

‘No, no.' He looked almost shocked. ‘I wasn't suggesting, I wouldn't suggest . . .'

‘Okay,' said Andie.

‘I was only wondering if you would like to do this again,' he said. ‘Go out, again . . . sometime.'

She hesitated. ‘Oh.'

He was watching her. ‘I see. I'm sorry, I thought it was going well.'

‘No, it is,' she assured him. ‘I really did have a nice time.'

‘But?' he prompted.

Just say it. ‘You're my boss, Dominic. I still feel uncomfortable about this.'

He nodded. ‘I don't want to make light of your feelings, Andie, but I just don't think it's an issue. You got the job through your own persistence and determination, and you've earned it on your own merits. Keeping it isn't reliant on you making nice with the boss.'

Andie was thinking. ‘All right. But what if you decide, well, that you don't want to see me any more, or I don't want to see you, or it just ends . . . for whatever reason. We work together, it'd be awkward.'

‘Well, then you would have to leave.'

Her eyes widened, but he was smiling down at her.

‘I'm kidding,' he said. ‘Andie, do you think, before we worry about messy break-ups and things getting awkward at work, that perhaps we could go out on a second date?'

She gave him a coy smile.

‘Are you usually given to such negative thought patterns?' he asked.

‘I don't know, I've been told I have a tendency to overthink things.'

‘Well, I'd like to assure you, right now, that I wouldn't let anything that happens between us, away from work, compromise your position at Viande.' He paused. ‘Okay?'

She nodded. ‘Okay.'

They stood there, facing each other. Andie sensed an air of expectation. What now? Was he going to kiss her? Probably. It was a first date, and they'd just decided on a second, it was customary . . .

‘Would you like me to walk you to the door?' Dominic said, breaking the silence.

‘It's okay, it's just there,' she said. ‘I can find my way.'

His face dropped. ‘All right then.'

Oh, blast, that was part of the etiquette, wasn't it? He had to walk her to the door to kiss her goodnight, and she'd more or less turned him down. Andie was so out of practice she had no idea. But she could hardly turn around now and say, yes, okay, walk me to the door.

BOOK: The Secret Ingredient
12.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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