Vanilla Salt

by Ada Parellada

  “We no have money for to pay a debt from when we start the restaurant and that get worse after scandal of poison food. I think you know we were not responsible. You know that?” She’s speaking slowly, to make sure he gets everything she says.

  “Yes, of course I know. I have followed the case with great interest – after all, my son works with you! I’ve read all the newspapers and my son’s even told me a bit… well, a bit, because you know what these young people are like. They don’t talk much.”

  “Well, he talk very much in restaurant. He feel happy with us. I want to tell you we cannot pay the debt and we must sell restaurant. Can Bret make us very good offer, so in fifteen days Roda el Món will belong to them and we all lose our job: Eric, us and the waitress. We have two weeks only. Unless—”

  “Unless what?” Eric’s dad is clearly irked.

  “Unless you buy restaurant.”

  “Now you’re floored me, girl. You mean you think I should buy the restaurant. Then what?”

  “Everything go on like now. You will be owner and Eric will have safe job. You can think about it this night and telephone me tomorrow? We do not have time, because the Can Bret man he is pushing us, every day more.”

  A very determined Annette hands him a document showing all the conditions of the sale of the restaurant: the price, the deadline for payment and the clause clearly stipulating that the new owner must respect the way the business is being run by its present owners. Annette’s sure she’s won the day. Eric’s dad is bound to buy the restaurant and, since the only thing he wants is to make sure his son learns some kind of trade, keeps busy, stays out of trouble and stops giving him headaches, leaving him in peace to get on with his trips to Thailand, he won’t interfere in the running of the restaurant.

  That night, after they close, Àlex and Annette have a frugal dinner at the kitchen table. Wanting Àlex to try the foods that came to Spain from the Americas, she has made guacamole. He doesn’t want to be rude, but he doesn’t like it. The texture and taste put him off. She tells him that the main ingredient, avocado, was the last of the American foods to be accepted by the Spanish people, who, like Àlex, didn’t take to it at first. It didn’t grow well in Spain and, since it ripens fast, it spoils very easily when transported, so it was never widely distributed and didn’t appear even on the tables of rich folk, although it was a staple in its natural environment. The Aztecs believed that it was an aphrodisiac because of its shape, which is why the tree was called Ahuacuatl, testicle tree.

  “You need taste new food at least ten times so you get used with it. I no surprise you no like it the first time, because it have really a strange taste. But if you try more times, I am certain you will like it in the end.”

  “And if I insist that you come upstairs to our room now, I am certain I will like you in the end,” Àlex mocks her affectionately.

  Annette has given Eric’s father until the end of the morning to respond to her offer, and he doesn’t make her wait. At one minute past eight the phone shrills hysterically. She flies out of Àlex`s room, leaps down the stairs and gets there before it rings off. In her mad rush to take the call, she shouts “I’m coming, I’m coming”, as if the person on the other end of the line could hear her.

  As she imagines, it’s Eric’s dad and, unsurprisingly, he accepts all her conditions. She hangs up, and the argument between her head and her heart immediately begins. She’s really happy, of course, but she’s also deeply sad. She knows how hard it will be to recover Roda el Món, but at least it won’t fall into the obnoxious hands of the Can Bret man.

  With the money from the sale, they’ll be able to settle their debts with the suppliers, pay back Òscar’s loan and return the advance of the Can Bret man plus whatever they are fined. They’ll have enough left over to get the flavoured-salt business off to a good start. Only one small detail remains. She has to break the news to Àlex.

  She doesn’t beat around the bush. “Àlex, I sell Roda el Món to the father of Eric.”

  She expects shouts, a bawling-out and a heap of arguments against her plan, but he is perfectly calm and thinks it an excellent idea. The only surprise for him is the identity of the buyer.

  “We’re not leaving. Like this we can to work peacefully and put this money in Vanilla Salt,” she adds.

  “Yes, yes, I get it, and if everything goes to plan we’ll never again be slaves of our overheads as we are now. We’ve got to make sure that everything works well, because our income depends on it, but at least we’ll be relieved of that never-ending pressure. You’ve done very well, Annette.”

  A very cheerful Àlex gets to work on the day’s menu and, listening to him singing, Annette hears the tender tones she heard when she first came to work here. Everything will be easy today at Roda el Món. She starts getting the dining room ready, but then, on the spur of the moment, she rushes outside and gives Can Bret the finger. She’s learnt that this silent but eloquent “Up yours” is called a botifarra in Catalonia, and doing it makes her feel even more relaxed. She goes into the kitchen and, inspired by the cheerful atmosphere, makes a large, generous apple cake, like the ones she used to make when she was a rich woman in Canada. She’s like a cat on hot bricks, excited and relaxed all at once. While she’s waiting to take her cake out of the oven and for the future owner of Roda el Món to arrive, she amuses herself by dusting the wine shelf and then decides that a drop of Priorat red would be a good thing, so she pours herself a glass from an open bottle of Embruix. “To the eternal good health of our love,” she toasts, all by herself. She’s got till mid-morning before Eric’s dad comes in his Porsche Cayenne and takes her to the notary’s to sign all the papers.

  At the notary’s, the fish dealer opens a briefcase, takes out the money and pays cash. No problems. The papers are signed. Annette phones Òscar. She wants to invite him to dinner, pay off her debt to him and celebrate the new, calm, less complicated journey they’re embarking on in such style. As she waits for him to answer, her hands are trembling. What does the future hold?

  She gets back just before the first lunchtime customers start arriving. Even the reservation book seems to be bustling round the desk as the bookings come in, and there are already quite a few tables reserved. Everything will run smoothly today and they won’t even notice the time passing.

  Graça is just putting the final touches to the tables when a well-dressed man arrives, asking if he can speak to Annette. She sashays off to the kitchen and calls, “Annette, fashion man, he desire talk with you!”

  Annette comes out, wiping her hands on a tea towel, thinking it must be one of the usual wine salesmen, but to her great surprise she finds that the “mysterious customer”, as she and Àlex call him, is waiting for her. What on earth could he want?

  He suggests that they sit down to talk at an out-of-the-way table, because the matter is delicate and he doesn’t want anybody to overhear.

  “How can I to help you?” she asks, intrigued.

  “My name is Alain Dumaine and I work for a big Canadian insurance company.”

  The expression on Annette’s face speaks volumes. She shifts in her chair and Monsieur Dumaine continues in French, “I’ve been sent to Catalonia to discover your whereabouts and inform the Canadian authorities where you are hiding. It hasn’t been difficult, because you’re not very discreet. I found you here a few months ago thanks to an article in a mainstream newspaper signed by a famous food critic, Carol Amigó. I am sure you will know who I am talking about. My mission wasn’t very risky, but it was important, and I couldn’t afford to make any mistake in identifying Annette Chaubel.”

  “My name is Annette Wilson,” she replies, now very anxious.

  “Yes, of course, Annette Wilson, I know that everyone around here knows you by your husband’s name and that you use an American name in an attempt to cover your tracks. But this was very ingenuous. It may have been effective in keeping the Canadian police at bay, because when they come up against the first obstacle they call
off the search and slap a great big red ‘MISSING’ on the file, but there are also economic interests involved. This means there are people who will move heaven and earth to track you down. For example, the insurance company I work for had to pay out a fortune to the people affected by the clenbuterol you fed to your calves. You will know what I am referring to.”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Well, I had to find you. And I’ve done that.”

  Annette sees her whole world falling apart in a microsecond. This is the end. When the scandal broke in Canada she feared this would happen, and now it has. She’s finished. She listens impassively to Monsieur Dumaine, without fear and without sadness. She feels nothing at all, as if all her emotions have escaped from her body and left her sitting there like a machine, nodding and shaking her head as if by remote control. Her features are frozen and her eyes are staring into space. Alain Dumaine is completely unperturbed.

  “My job was to find you, and I did find you, but I didn’t notify the Canadian authorities. I’ve been watching you all these months. I was never in any doubt about your identity and I could have put an end to the matter a couple of weeks after arriving here. It was so easy to find you. But Catalonia is a lovely place and, as a humble employee in the Frauds Department of an insurance company, I don’t get too many chances to enjoy this wonderful Mediterranean world. So I decided to deceive the company and stay on here for a few months. From time to time I came to the restaurant to make sure you hadn’t escaped – and, I must say, the food is great here. I was softening up. I saw that you are a very vulnerable, noble, hard-working woman who is attentive to the well-being of her clients, and I began to feel sorry for you.”

  Annette listens carefully, without the slightest idea of how all this is going to end. He continues, “Yes, I got fond of you and Graça. Àlex too. You make a great team. So I decided not to write the report I should have written to the authorities. Instead I said that it was impossible to find you, and that, deeply regretting that I had failed in my mission, I would soon be returning to Canada empty-handed. I must confess that I only have a few months left with the company before I retire, so I haven’t taken a huge risk. On the other hand, this was my chance to offer a new life to a girl who deserves it. I felt magnanimous, pleased and proud of my decision. But then the food-poisoning story broke in all the newspapers.”

  “It wasn’t our fault. We have proof that this was the work of Carol Amigó,” Annette says, clutching at straws.

  “I know, I know. I’m well informed about everything concerning Roda el Món and Annette Wilson. Let me finish, please. When I read in the papers that you were accused of poisoning the journalists, I believed that I had got carried away by all the good Mediterranean vibes and misinterpreted what I thought was your open character. If you were guilty of two large-scale poisoning crimes, there was no way you could be a good person. Angry with myself for being so naive and for my professional lapse, I wrote to my company telling them your exact whereabouts.”

  Alain Dumaine needs a sip of water, as he’s upset, despite his serene appearance. He is sure that this woman is a good person who has been greatly harmed after being deceived twice, but it is his job to send her to prison. And that would be very unjust.

  “You were in luck, though. There was some kind of computer glitch and the email didn’t go through. Three days ago the company phoned me to ask what was happening. Surprised by this, I told them I’d already notified them as to your whereabouts and also gave them the details on the phone. Then I re-sent the email with the precise information. Some hours later I read the denouement of the poisoning story on the Internet, and learnt that Carol Amigó was guilty of poisoning the journalists. It was too late. I felt like a traitor. I’ve been trying to come here and warn you for the last two days, but problems and work commitments kept cropping up. I’m getting old and everything’s too much for me. But you’ve still got time. You must leave today. Go to some place far away from here. They won’t find you. They’ll get tired of looking for you. Listen to me, please. Leave now. Don’t let them catch you with your hands in the dough… of that gorgeous carrot cake.”

  19

  SUNFLOWER

  My definition of man is a “Cooking Animal”. The beasts have memory, judgement, and all the faculties and passions of our mind, in a certain degree; but no beast is a cook.

  JAMES BOSWELL

  Annette races down the street. One of these days, she thinks, she’ll have to stop leaping around like a little girl. She runs into the house calling, “Àlex, À-a-a-lex!”

  “What’s up? Anyone’d think you’ve just seen Dracula with a garlic necklace round his neck like a rosary.”

  “You say crazy things! Look, look at the newspaper. We have won at last!”

  “What?”

  “I was having a cup of tea in the bar with time to read all the newspaper, even the smallest things. Like this.”

  Àlex reads the brief item:

  A court has begun hearing evidence against Carol Amigó, who is accused of poisoning food served in a Vallès restaurant. There is considerable public interest in the trial, because the accused is a well-known food critic.

  At last! They’ve been waiting for months to find out how the food-poisoning story would end, both of them fearing that Carol would spread her tentacles and try to pervert the course of justice. However, it seems that sometimes justice is justice in this country, and Carol hasn’t been able to manipulate it in her favour. She will pay for her deeds. Whether she has to pay a lot or a little is not the main issue. The important thing is that justice is done.

  They had to leave Roda el Món with nothing but the clothes on their backs, so to speak, the very same day that Monsieur Dumaine came to visit Annette. They only had time to go to and see the Can Bret man and repay the advance, plus the fine that had been imposed because they hadn’t sold him the restaurant. All above board. Immediately after paying, they packed up whatever clothes they could, a few CDs, videos and some chef’s equipment, loaded it into the car and set out without really knowing where they were going.

  The person who was most affected was Eric, who still doesn’t understand anything. Àlex took him aside, telling him, “We have to go. Right now. We didn’t expect this, but we have no choice in the matter.”

  “What time will you be back?” Eric’s not very interested.

  “Sorry, I haven’t been very clear. We’re not coming back.”

  “What do you mean? Are you crazy? Who’s going to run the restaurant?”

  “You. The restaurant is yours.”

  “But I can’t do it by myself. I don’t know how to!” Now Eric is distressed.

  “Listen to me. To begin with, you can do it. I’ve seen that you can. You’ve got a good gastronomic sensibility and you’re very smart. That’s what you need to run a kitchen. Moreover, you’re a fast learner. You’re a sponge, soaking up everything, immediately. You only have to do what you’ve seen me doing – and, in fact, I’ve been watching you these last few days and have noted that you’ve adopted my routine. Don’t forget it. That’s important. It’s true you’re very young, but you can make up for inexperience with discipline. I have great faith in you. You’ve never missed a day and you’re always punctual, which is an extremely important aspect of good cooking. Finally, you have to remember that the restaurant is yours and the success or failure of the business depends on you and you alone. If you understand that, the mechanisms of ambition and effort will kick in and help you get through the moments of exhaustion.”

  “Your advice sounds all very nice, man, but me, by myself… it won’t work.” Eric is unconvinced.

  “You won’t be alone. You’ll have me. You can always phone me whenever you need advice. And if you have an especially busy time or feel out of your depth, let me know and I’ll come and give you a hand. In fact, I was thinking that I could drop in from time to time, but not on any day in particular. I don’t want you to be dependent on my help. Try to do it yourself.
The satisfaction is greater and the feeling of pride is deeper when you achieve something through your own efforts. Lots of young guys would love to have this chance you have now, to know that success lies in their own hands. Be brave, determined and tough on yourself, and enjoy your small triumphs. Don’t go hankering after what the other lads have, but take pleasure in what you’ve got. You already know that taking over a restaurant means you can’t do the things other young people do. Bye-bye weekends! But this in no way means that your wings will be clipped. On the contrary, you’ll be free to make your own decisions. Go for it and do a good job. Plenty of young people will never be able to make their own professional decisions. You’ll do a wonderful job, Eric!”

  “I’m shitting myself. You’ve given me a great sermon, but it’s only words. I’m going to be left here all by myself, lonelier than a nun’s vagina!”

  “OK, you need a kitchen hand. But you’re the chef and you have to give the orders. I know a good, reliable girl. You’ll have to teach her how to make our dishes, but she’s like you. She learns fast. Since she’s from Barcelona, she’ll have to sleep here. She can also help you out with cleaning. Here name’s Gladys. I’ll phone her today and ask her to start tomorrow. I’ll bring her here myself. She’s been working as a prostitute.”

  “Bloody hell! A pro in the kitchen. That’s just what I need.” Eric clasps his forehead in despair.

  “So? Let’s see if you’re capable of getting it into your head that not all engineers are smart, not all cops are good and not all whores were born to be whores. Gladys never had the chance to choose. That’s all. She’s clean, clever and she wants to get out of the mess she’s in. She’ll be eternally grateful for this chance you can give her. She’ll never let you down. An opportunity is the most valuable gift you can give anyone. You got your chance and now Gladys can have hers. I’ve also got a new opportunity right in front of my nose and I have to grab it before it flies away to someone else’s house.”