The Gourmet Girl Mysteries, Volume 1

by Jessica Conant-Park

  “Oops, sorry.” Nelson careened into me while trying to capture me slicing the peaches for the peach and raspberry cobbler.

  “Watch it, Nelson!” Marlee shook her head in disgust at the cameraman’s clumsiness.

  “Yeah, man,” Digger added. “Watch where you’re going.”

  Nelson looked truly apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s crowded here.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine,” I assured Nelson, who was right about the crowding. Although the kitchen was spacious in the sense of being a large room, the work areas were infuriatingly cramped.

  “No, you’re not fine,” Robin informed me. “Nelson, get yourself and your goddamn camera over here. Here, where the chef is cooking the food!” She pointed sharply at the innocent gnocchi. “Zoom in and give me something to work with. Stay on the food until I say otherwise.”

  Despite Robin’s demanding attitude and Nelson’s repeated need to reshoot cooking steps and instructions, Josh was able to teach Francie and Leo how to prepare the rest of the meal and how to coordinate the timing so that the separate components of the dinner were ready at the same time. When the gnocchi floated to the top of the pot of boiling water, the lamb chops were perfectly cooked in a nest of herbed vegetables, and the fish was seared to perfection. At that moment, Josh popped the peach and berry cobbler into the oven to cook while dinner was being served and eaten. The cheeses were on a platter, and the tomato salad had been tossed in an aromatic dressing. The cheese and salad course would follow the main course, and the cobbler would be served last.

  I was not used to watching Josh cook without being free to sample his delectable creations. Although he’d put me and everyone else to work, I felt stuck at the periphery of the scene. My stomach obviously did, too: it began to growl. When Josh tossed the hot gnocchi into the pesto, I couldn’t resist any longer. Catching his eye and glaring at him, I transmitted the message that unless I got some of this food, he was going to have one cranky, miserable girlfriend. I was absolutely ravenous, since it was nearing eight o’clock. As Josh must have sensed, everyone else clearly felt the same way I did. In the chaos of getting plates and serving platters to the table, he let everyone get in a few spoonfuls of food and practically had to swat Robin away from the gnocchi. He also remembered to set aside gnocchi with butter only for Leo. I grimaced when I saw Marlee double-dip her spoon back into the bowl. How uncheflike! Between her dirty fingernails and germ-sharing tasting method, I wondered how this woman’s restaurant ever passed a health inspection.

  At last it was time to film the dinner scene. The large dining room was painted a deep green that I hoped wouldn’t be too dark for the camera. Francie and Leo took their seats on delicate Windsor chairs at a round wooden table beneath what I thought was a fake crystal chandelier. The table was too small for the generously proportioned room and too chunky for the chairs. The piece of furniture that dominated the dining room was a gigantic sideboard with little mirrors and elaborate carving. It seemed to me that the dining room, like the kitchen, had been assembled bit by bit, without any sort of overall plan or theme to guide the selection of elements, none of which had anything in common with any of the others. While I’d been busy in the kitchen, someone had tried to impose eye appeal on the unfortunate dining room by creating an attractive table setting. The matching runner, place mats, and napkins were made of a Victorian-looking fabric with stylized flowers and vines on a black background. The stainless flatware was heavy and oversized—at a guess, the pattern had the word Hotel in its name—and each of the two places had two stemmed wineglasses, one large and one small. Someone, maybe Marlee, had opened two bottles of wine, one red and one white, and had placed them on the table. Although I knew very little about wine, I knew that red wine, or at least some red wine, was supposed to be opened ahead of time so that it could breathe. But white wine? And wasn’t white wine supposed to be cold? Or at least cool? I didn’t ask. Fortunately, as I reminded myself, the show was more about food than about wine; it certainly wasn’t supposed to be about interior decorating.

  As Josh served Francie and Leo, I noted that he deserved a lot of credit for seamlessly putting together separate dishes for a couple with radically different food preferences. Leo’s plate of halibut and buttered gnocchi, Francie’s plate of lamb chops and pesto gnocchi, and a platter of roasted vegetables all looked divine. Probably because of the shared vegetables, I had the sense of one coordinated meal, not just a collection of separate items. Leo’s willingness to eat the vegetables had surprised me, since they’d been cooked in the same roasting pan as the lamb, as Leo knew. Leo had participated in the cooking, he’d seen the vegetables in the roasting pan, and Josh had even pointed out that they’d been cooked with the meat, but Leo had said that they were fine for him. I’d heard him myself. In any case, now that the main course had been served, the table looked beautiful.

  Nelson’s camera light shone on the pair of diners. Looking jovial and pleased with himself, Leo poured white wine into his own glass and red into Francie’s. Then, just as Leo raised his glass, presumably to make a toast, Robin stopped him. “Wait!” she cried. “We need to get some good footage of the dishes before anyone eats them. Marlee and Digger? Why don’t you carry everything back to the kitchen, to the breakfast table, and Nelson can shoot the plates there, where the light’s better.”

  “Sure thing,” Marlee said as she handed the vegetable platter to Digger and then removed Francie’s and Leo’s plates. “While we’re at it, we’ll sneak a little taste for ourselves from the leftovers in the bowls.”

  Josh, I knew, would take it as a compliment that another chef wanted to sample his food. My private thought was that Marlee was hungry. I certainly was, and I suspected that everyone else was, too.

  Digger sighed as he carried away the platter. “At this rate, the food is going to be dead cold by the time they get to eat it.”

  He wasn’t kidding. It must’ve taken Nelson ten minutes to film the food that had been taken away, and when it was finally returned and Leo and Francie finally got to take their first bites, Nelson stopped them and announced that they’d have to reenact their first tasting. Poor Josh looked ready to wring someone’s neck, and Francie and Leo were exchanging glances of exasperation. Marlee and Digger both looked uncomfortable in some way that I couldn’t interpret. Was Josh’s competition sympathizing with him? I doubted it. And when Digger suddenly started to beckon Josh, as if he wanted to call him aside to have a word with him, I was furious. This was no the time to chat it up with Josh! This was his big moment! The thought crossed my mind that when Digger and Marlee had carried the food back to the kitchen, they’d concocted some nasty plot to spoil Josh’s chances of winning, a scheme that began with getting him away from the table. Fortunately, Josh ignored Digger and, with Robin’s unwanted help, rearranged the food on the plates. My heart went out to Josh. He took tremendous pride in everything he prepared. Although the plates now looked appetizing, Josh’s hot food must now be lukewarm, if not outright cold.

  Even so, once Leo and Francie were at last permitted to eat, Leo raved about his halibut. “This is just spectacular. The fish is cooked perfectly, and I love the sweet crust on it. That’s just from the sugar you sprinkled on it?” He took a bite of the gnocchi. “These are heavenly. And the roasted vegetables smell incredible!”

  Francie, on the other hand, looked anything but enthusiastic. After she’d tasted her lamb, she grabbed a water glass and took a large gulp. My stomach dropped as I watched her force herself to swallow a few more bites. I looked nervously at Josh, who was staring so intently at Francie that he looked frozen in place. What could possibly be wrong? Even the best chef makes a mediocre dish now and then, but Josh had never cooked anything inedible. Of course, the lamb chops should have been served hot. Maybe the fat had congealed, I told myself. Still, even if the lamb wasn’t at its best, it just couldn’t be as repugnant as Francie seemed to find it. Francie, I told myself, must be a picky eater, someone who whined and complai
ned about everything she tasted.

  “And how’s your dish, Francie?” prompted Robin, who had been so focused on Leo that she’d obviously failed to notice Francie’s grimacing.

  Francie dropped her fork and made eye contact with the camera. “The truth is,” she said emphatically, “it’s just awful.”

  Buy Fed Up Now!

  RECIPES

  In this book, Chloe and the gang feast on many culinary delights. Here are the recipes for some of the dishes they enjoy. Many thanks to the chefs, professional and amateur, who contributed their talents to this section! Be sure to read through each recipe before cooking because some of these dishes require preparation the day before or hours before serving.

  Roasted Pork Quesadillas with Apple Salsa

  Courtesy of Michael Ricco, Executive Chef and Owner,

  Café Teresa, Londonderry, New Hampshire

  The apple salsa here is delicious. If you have any left over, you can serve it with grilled or roasted chicken.

  Makes 6—8 quesadillas

  Roasted Pork

  1 tbsp. kosher salt

  1 tbsp. cracked black pepper

  1 tbsp. fennel seeds

  1 boneless pork loin, about 1½ lbs.

  1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  Mix the salt, pepper, and fennel seeds together. Rub the pork loin with the olive oil and then rub the spice mixture onto the pork, covering the entire loin. Place the pork on a cooking sheet and cook in the oven until the internal temperature of the meat reaches 150°, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Remove and let rest until cool enough to handle. Cut the pork into thin slices and then cut those slices into ¼” strips. Set aside until ready to assemble the quesadillas.

  Fuji Apple Salsa

  2 Fuji apples, cored and finely chopped

  ½ small red onion, finely chopped

  1 small bunch cilantro, finely chopped

  1 yellow pepper, seeded and finely chopped

  1 jalapeño pepper, seeded and finely chopped

  1 tbsp. honey

  2 tbsp. rice wine vinegar or cider vinegar

  1 tsp. kosher salt

  Combine all ingredients and mix well. Set aside.

  Quesadillas Assembly

  ½ cup good quality shredded Cheddar cheese

  1½ cups good quality shredded Monterey Jack cheese

  1 package of 12-inch flour tortillas

  1 thinly sliced red onion

  1 jalapeño pepper, finely chopped

  Sliced roasted pork

  4 tbsp. melted butter

  Fresh cilantro for garnish

  Spread equal amounts of Cheddar and Jack cheese, thinly and evenly, over one half of a tortilla. Lay a few sliced onion rings on the cheese and then sprinkle with jalapeños. Place a few of the pork strips on top and then fold the tortilla in half. Brush with a bit of the melted butter, and cook in batches. Lay the quesadillas on a preheated griddle or large pan over medium heat, and cook until the cheese has started to melt. Turn the quesadillas over and finish cooking until golden brown. Remove from the pan and cut into quarters. Place a scoop of apple salsa in the center of the plate and arrange the quesadilla quarters on top. Garnish with sprigs of fresh cilantro.

  Coriander Seared Sea Scallops with Grilled Pancetta, Honey Parsnip Puree, and Warm Pear Chutney

  Justin Lyonnais, Executive Chef, Commercial Street Fisheries, Manchester, New Hampshire

  One of the things that makes eating out at a fine-dining restaurant so enjoyable and delicious is that chefs often make three or more components separately, then bring them together to create one dish. Each separate element here is simple to whip up, but the combination makes a restaurant-worthy plate. Taking a few extra minutes when arranging the scallops, pancetta, parsnip puree, and pear chutney will give a beautiful presentation.

  Makes 4—6 servings

  Pear Ginger Chutney

  ½ cup sliced almonds

  4 Bartlett pears, peeled and cut into roughly 1” pieces

  1 cup golden raisins

  ½ cup rice wine vinegar

  ½ cup sugar

  1 tbsp. fresh ginger, minced

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  Spread the almonds onto a baking sheet and toast in the oven for 5 to 6 minutes until just browned. Keep an eye on them, since they will burn easily. This can be done a day ahead if you like.

  In a small saucepan, add the rest of ingredients. Cover the pot and cook over medium heat for fifteen minutes, or until the pears are tender. Cool the chutney and mix in the toasted almonds.

  Parsnip Puree

  1 lb. of parsnips, peeled and sliced into ½-inch-thick slices

  ½ cup honey

  ½ cup water

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Place parsnips in a large pot with just enough water to cover them. Bring to a boil, cook until very tender, and then drain. While still hot, puree the parsnips in a blender with the honey and ½ cup water until smooth. The puree should be the consistency of mayonnaise, so add more water if needed. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

  Pancetta

  12 slices of pancetta, about ¼ inch thick (sliced like bacon)

  Simply cook the pancetta slices over a grill or on a stove top skillet until nicely browned on each side. Remove from pan and pat off any grease with paper towels. Set aside.

  Scallops

  4 tbsp. whole coriander seeds

  1 tbsp. salt

  1½ lbs. of fresh sea scallops, patted dry with a towel

  1 oz. canola oil

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  Spread the coriander seeds on a baking sheet and toast in the oven until golden brown. Grind the toasted seeds in a clean coffee grinder and mix with the salt. Generously season both sides of the scallops with the coriander and salt mixture. Heat a sauté pan over medium high heat. Add the canola oil and sear the scallops for two minutes on each side.

  To Plate

  Arrange three slices of the grilled pancetta in the center of a plate. Top with some pear chutney, and place the scallops around the plate in a circle. Drizzle with the parsnip puree.

  Fish Fillets with Vegetables and Herbs

  Jessica Park, Manchester, New Hampshire

  This is a very easy way to cook fish fillets. It is nearly impossible to mess up unless you absolutely forget about the fish and let it completely overcook! Feel free to substitute or add whatever seasonal vegetables you like. Fresh herbs will really make a difference here. You may want to stick with one variety if it is particularly pungent, like thyme. (Basil and parsley will match up well with other herbs, but you wouldn’t want thyme competing with cilantro.) If you’ve got a grill fired up, these fillets will cook up beautifully for an outdoor supper.

  Serves 4 people

  4 6–8-oz. pieces of white fish (cod, baddock, red snapper, halibut), preferably fresh

  Salt and pepper

  2 plum tomatoes, halved and then sliced, or a handful of yellow or red cherry or pear tomatoes, sliced in half

  1 red pepper, thinly sliced

  1 small zucchini, thinly sliced

  1 small yellow summer squash, thinly sliced

  2 scallions, finely sliced

  1–2 cloves garlic, minced or finely sliced

  1 cup white wine

  4 tbsp. butter

  4 tbsp. olive oil

  Handful of fresh herbs (thyme, basil, cilantro, oregano, parsley), roughly chopped

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  Spread out four good-sized pieces of tinfoil (roughly 15” to 18” long) on two baking sheets. Place each fish fillet on one half of the foil piece. Season well with salt and pepper. Lift up the sides of the foil so your toppings won’t leak out and then top each fillet with equal amounts of tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, squash, scallions, garlic, wine, butter, olive oil, more salt and pepper, and the herbs. Fold the foil over the top and seal the edges. Place the trays in the oven and check after 12 minutes. When the fish is fully cooked and th
e meat is flaky, remove from the oven. Top with more fresh herbs if you like and then serve with plain couscous, rice, or French bread (to soak up all the delicious juices), and a salad.

  Crispy Calamari with an Asian Slaw and Roasted Pineapple Dressing

  Mark Porcaro, Executive Chef, Top of the Hub, Boston, Massachusetts

  The roasted pineapple dressing in this recipe is outstanding and very simple to make. You will need to let the slaw marinate in the dressing for a bit so that the vegetables will soften and all the delicious flavors will come together. Topped with the hot fried calamari, this slaw creates a fantastic summer entrée!

  Makes 6 servings

  Roasted Pineapple Dressing

  1 tsp. canola oil

  ½ pineapple, skin and crown removed, quartered

  1 cup orange juice

  ½ tbsp. red Thai curry paste

  ½ cup honey

  2 cups canola oil

  Optional: 1–2 tbsp. scallions, cilantro, chives, or lemongrass

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  Rub 1 tsp. of canola oil onto pineapple quarters and roast on a baking sheet for about 15 minutes or until nicely browned.

  Puree the roasted pineapple in an electric blender with the orange juice, curry paste, and honey. Add canola oil in a steady stream until the dressing has emulsified and thickened. Add any of the fresh herbs listed above and pulse the blender a few times to incorporate.

  Slaw

  1½ cups cooked cappellini, cooled under running water

  1 tsp. canola oil

  1½ lbs. Chinese cabbage, shredded

  1 cup shiitake mushrooms, thickly sliced

  ½ cup carrots, shredded or julienned

  1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced

  ½ bunch cilantro

  ½ cup water chestnuts, sliced

  1 Vidalia onion, thinly sliced