Burn, Baby, Burn by Michael Seale (Chapter 17)

 Chapter 17

New Menu

Buffalo Soldier rang out through the kitchen. It was deafening. Tom sang along as he cooked. I watched on, wishing my hangover away. 

“Dude, how the fuck can you think with it so loud,” I yelled as I made my way to the CD player. 

I turned the music down. Tom turned his head and smiled. 

“What?” I asked.

“Dude, I woke up on the sofa at that chick’s house, you were buck naked in front of me.”

I stared at him, I couldn’t for the life of me remember. 

“You're lucky you're not my type." He said with a smile. “What the fuck was that. What did you think that you could stick it in my mouth as I slept?” 

“What? No. Sick fuck.” 

I told him what happened. He said that he woke up to me sitting across from him, he could describe my balls in curious detail. The last thing he said was I wondered into the kitchen, like I was sleepwalking or in a trance or something. 

“Seriously, I don’t recall any of that.” 

He shrugged his shoulders; I suppose he’s had more nights that he has forgotten then he can remember. 

I went downstairs to change my clothes; I wasn’t out of the kitchen for two seconds before Tom had cranked the music back to full blast. Bob was soldiering on again. I guess I don’t understand reggae. I know that they are protesting something, but it really all sounds the same to me. Maybe I should smoke a joint or two more with Tom and then I’ll understand.

Trish came in a bit later. I had been prepping the vegetables for the Bolognese again. It seems we are making it every other day right now. She came stomping up to me. 

“I need to speak to you” she said formally.

“What’s up?” I replied.

She looked to Tom and asked if we could go up front before anyone else came in. I followed her to the bar. She turned the espresso machine on and waited for it to heat. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She started. I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms of my chest. So, this is how it is, I thought.

“Kimber is devastated.” That’s not where I thought this was going. 

“What?” I asked.

“Kimber?” she was getting even more worked up again. “Do you remember her? The young woman that you are leading on.”

“I’m not leading anyone on. She is leading me on.”

“Don’t be so stupid.” She turned to the coffee machine. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have done that to you. I used you to get Bill jealous. That’s it. But Kimber really likes you, and you are blowing it.”

“I tried, she said that she wasn’t interested.” 

“Well, duh, she wants you to chase her.”

I stared out the large window next to the entrance it was almost as big as the entire wall. Bill had talked about taking the window out and installing some sort of garage door that he could open up in the summer and bring the outdoors inside. Why my mind jumps to things like that in these situations, I’ll never understand. 

“Are you there, Mike? Hello.” She asked and snapped her fingers in front of my face.  

“Yeah, sorry, look, I don’t know about Kimber. I mean she’s hot and I like her but she is one of your best friends. Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Not for me, not for her. I just want her to be happy and right now, I know that my friend isn’t happy.”

I nodded. “Ok.” I said.

“Just make it right. Tell her what you want and everything. And stop picking up other girls when she is around.”

I smirked, “You heard about that?”

“Half of Barrington knows about that.” 

Tom yelled from the kitchen. I made my way back to the kitchen. 

“Bill’s coming.” I knew what that meant, don’t get caught talking to his chick again. Otherwise, I gotta find a new job. 

We had a few menu changes to go over. Bill held court with me, Tom and Ollie, Gustavo was never with us. Ollie wasn’t much use, but Bill, Tom and I usually came up with a few good ideas.

We would keep the few items that sold well. The rest would change. It’s not like the menu was that big, but we had to stay current. 

We set out with our notepads and got to work. It didn’t take long, Bill knew more or less what he wanted, but he always included us. It made us feel like we decided with him. 

The new menu was so:

Starters

Ted’s Baby Arugula Salad with red wine Poached Pears, Candied Walnuts, Port Wine Vinaigrette & Shaved Blue Cheese

Antipasti with Garbanzo Beans with Green Olive Pesto and Red Onions, White Anchovies with Grapefruit and Mint, Marinated and Grilled Eggplant, Prosciutto & Lardo

Foie Gras with Toasted Brioche, Earl Grey Poached Italian Plum Compote, Micro Greens & Fleur de Sel   

Ginger & Garlic Fried Calamari with Lemon Aioli & Sundried Tomato-Basil Pesto

Pizza

Homemade Italian Sausage Pizza with Broccoli Rabe, Peperocini & Smoked Mozzarella 

Prosciutto, Lardo, Arugula, Parmesan and Mozzarella

Seafood Pizza with Anchovies, Mussels, Clams, and Calamari 

Main

Sepia Ink Risotto with Truffle Oil & 24 karat Gold Dust, sauteed Scallop & Micro Greens

Porcini & Herb Crusted Lamb Rack with White Polenta, stewed Peppers & Porcini-Balsamic Jus

Wood Grilled Ribeye, Garlic Mashed Potatoes, Broccoli Rabe & Fried Shallots

Wood Grilled Beef Tenderloin, Roasted Peppers, White Wine Risotto and Arugula

Potato Gnocchi, Sage Brown Butter, Pine nuts and Parmesan

Fava Bean Ravioli with Carrot Jus and Baby Carrots

Wood Grilled Quail, White Corn Polenta & Roasted Grapes

Wild Boar Bolognese with Bucatini and Parmesan

Dessert

Dark Chocolate Whiskey Ice Cream, Selection of Cookies

Garrotxa Cheese with Bee Pollen, Local Honey Comb 

Homemade Tiramisu 

That was it there, there it was. We had worked for a good hour on it. Bill was happy; Tom said that too much of the work relied on him. I knew that he secretly loved that. It meant Bill needed him. My work load changed little, which I was happy about. I wasn’t in any place to have more stress.

My hand ached. The cut was deeper than I had thought; thank goodness it was my left hand. Since I’m right handed, I could do all of my work, but I knew that it would take a while for the cut to heal up. Right now, my palm was bandaged. 

We made our way back to the kitchen, Gustavo and Kimber walked in laughing. 

“¡Muchas gracias!” she said. 

“De nada, siempre ayudo a una bella dama.” he said.

“Hi Kimmie,” I called to her. “Hey Goose.”

“Hola, Papi chulo,” he called back and disappeared down the stairs.

“What’s that all about?” I asked Kimber.

“Come on, Mike, everyone knows that you went home with that slutty little bartender last night. He just calls it like he sees it.”

Kimber smelled amazing. Like she bathed in perfume, it was intoxicating, flowery, and almost like buttered vanilla. Her hair pulled back in a bun, her white button down blouse was open just enough that a bit of cleavage showed. Gone was the hippie persona from the concert. This was serious Kimber, ready to work. But she still looked amazing. 

“I’m sorry; I thought that you weren’t interested. Didn’t know.”

“Who said that I was interested?” I glanced up at Trish without realizing it.

“Oh.” Was all she said. “Well, I’m not anymore.” She walked away, towards the service nook. 

I was at lost for a moment. I needed to get back into the kitchen, but I knew that I shouldn’t leave it like that. The service nook was small, and she had her back to me as I approached. 

“Kimber, I am sorry. For what it’s worth, I shouldn’t have picked her up. That was a real douche bag move on my part. I hope we can start over. Forget it happen.” I walked away without an answer.