Sweet Bits

by Karen Moehr

  “I don’t know what to do,” he went on. “They offered me a job at the firm while I studied and took the California bar and then after I pass, I’d be a Junior Associate or something like that. I can’t remember exactly what he said. I was too stunned.”

  “The California bar? You’d have to take the bar again?”

  “Yeah, that’s the only drag. I’d need to be licensed in that state. He said that I could work as a consultant while I was studying and then once I passed I’d get a full position.”

  Ali’s calm demeanor from her wonderful bath went away and her brain raced with all Ben was saying.

  “So wadddya think?” he asked.

  “Ben…uh, I don’t know…” she was flummoxed.

  “I know. I feel the same way.” He paused. “You know with you going to school out there, I would have jumped at it, but now…”

  Ali watched him. Maybe Toni was right about how Ben felt about her… She couldn’t think about that right now.

  “Well, it certainly sounds like and amazing offer,” she said.

  “Yeah,” said Ben. “The money isn’t as good as here. It’s a whole different type of law and clients, but the work…well, it would definitely be more interesting to me.”

  “Can’t you find a job doing that type of work here?”

  Ben looked at her for a long moment. He hadn’t really thought about it. Chicago was a big city. Surely he could find something. Of course! Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

  “Seriously, Ben? You haven’t thought about it?”

  “You know, I haven’t. I know that sounds dumb, but I guess I’ve just been caught up in what’s going on my firm and didn’t think to look outside of it.”

  He stopped and looked out the window. It was dusk and the street lights were just starting to come on. “I guess I was just kind of hoping that my firm would take on more cases that I liked and I’d get to go on with those.”

  He sighed heavily. “But now my boss has informed me that won’t be happening. They basically just used me to keep the Mayor happy and make the firm look good.”

  Ali frowned. She could never understand how he could work in corporate law. Everyone knew it was unfulfilling money trap. “So put out some feelers. With your recent success, I’m sure you’ll have your pick of jobs.”

  Ben brightened. “I’m so glad I came over here. I feel so much better. Of course, I’d love to go out to San Francisco, but it’s not like it’s my dream. I like it right here.”

  Ali felt a little envious. It was her dream. Why couldn’t someone call and offer her an amazing job in California? She remembered that she had been offered an amazing job right here in her home city. She was immediately grateful and felt bad for being jealous. She smiled at him. “So, now that that’s settled, how about some dinner? I’ve been craving Chinese all day.”

  ***

  Ali’s first day at the Golden Palm was a huge disappointment. She had assumed she’d be learning to bake luscious pastries and getting in on trade secrets from their famous chef.

  Instead she spent the day working as a prep cook grating cheese for Gruyere biscuits, chopping nuts for pralines and mixing spices. The day started early, before she normally got up. It was tiring work and although she wasn’t doing anything inspiring, she enjoyed just being in the kitchen.

  “Is this right?” she asked one of the other prep cooks and got a grunt. “Go ask Marcella,” he said pointing across the kitchen.

  Ali looked over to see Marcella, a large woman with skin the color of maple syrup. She wore the largest white chef’s jacket Ali had ever seen and remained seated at all times. Ali carried her bowl of chopped nuts over for inspection.

  “Are these the right size?” she asked.

  Marcella looked at the nuts. “Did you do these by hand?”

  “Yes.”

  Marcella looked at Ali as if to say “are you an idiot?” “Why didn’t you use the processor?” She pointed over to a corner and a huge food processor.

  “No one told me…” Ali felt stupid. Of course! A food processor. She always chopped her nuts by hand when baking at home but certainly a restaurant uses equipment. She had a lot to learn.

  “Humph!” grunted Marcella loudly. “Well, ask next time.” She went back to marking things off on her clipboard.

  Ali stood there. Should she do a whole new batch? Run these through the processor? “Uh,” she hesitated, but had to ask. “What should I do with these?”

  “Who’s training you?” asked Marcella abruptly. She was obviously not happy to be interrupted with this newbie’s questions.

  “Uh, John was showing me around and then I haven’t seen him in a while. He told me to chop the nuts, so I did.”

  “John.” Marcella rolled her eyes. “OK, come with me,” she lifted her huge body off the chair while holding the table and walked to the processor. She walked like a penguin with a side-to-side gait.

  “This here’s your nut chopper, put those in here and press number three on the keypad. It’ll give you a nice, fine chop. When you’re done, let me know.”

  She walked off. “John! John!” She shouted walking to the side door of the kitchen where Ali saw John put out his cigarette and run inside.

  “John, you know better than to leave a trainee alone,” said Marcella in a loud voice the whole kitchen could here.

  John nodded and ran over to Ali. “Hey, so how’s it going?” he asked.

  Ali explained the past few minute’s events and the rest of the day John was never more than arm’s length away.

  After her shift, she was exhausted. As she gathered her things to leave, a woman about her age opened the locker next to hers. “Hi,” she said. “I’m April. You new in the pastry kitchen?”

  “Yeah. Today’s my first day,” she said looking at the women with strawberry blonde curls, a round face and huge blue eyes.

  “Marcella come down on you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, she did. I didn’t chop the nuts right,” Ali admitted.

  April laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Her bark is worse than her bite. She’s not bad.” April swiped on some lip balm.

  “We’re all going to over Max’s for a drink. Want to come?” she asked Ali.

  Ali was beat, but maybe getting out with the staff would help tomorrow be a little easier. She would go for one drink.

  ***

  Three hours later Ali walked into her apartment with an entirely different viewpoint. She’d stayed and had a burger and met the whole kitchen crew while learning John practically lived on smoke-break and if you couldn’t find him just look outside; Marcella was the kitchen “Mistress” as the staff called her and although she didn’t move much, she knew everything that was going on at every moment.

  The Pastry Chef was Adolphe, who was from Belgium and thought of himself as above the rest of them. The pastry kitchen was its own domain and different from the regular kitchen where the staff was three-fold larger and more boisterous. Adolphe liked a quiet, intense environment and could not bear the barroom atmosphere that went on in hot foods.

  “You may not meet him for weeks,” she was told by April who was a line cook and not only friendly but slightly protective of Ali as another female on staff. “These guys will eat you up and spit you out,” she said. “I’ll keep ‘em in line,” she said.

  “Thanks,” said Ali. The few minutes she’d spent in the hot kitchen was like a different planet from the pastry kitchen. They were all shouting orders and various other things, including several four-letter words back and forth. The kitchen where she worked was quiet and practically sterile in comparison.

  “Wish I’d had someone like me when I started. I was the only girl in a sea of rowdy guys,” said April drinking her beer.

  “Really? That must have been rough.”

  “Yeah, it was a regular frat house,” she said. “I was pretty naïve. I’d just gotten out of school and had only one other job, working at a coffee shop up in Wisconsin.”

  “
Where’d you go to school?” asked Ali.

  “Cordon Bleu, here in Chicago,” said April.

  “I’m going there,” said Ali.

  “No surprise. Most of us went there,” said April unimpressed. “It’s a workhouse, but you’ll get most of what you need to know.”

  “Most?” asked Ali.

  “Yeah, you don’t really get to know what it’s like to work in a real kitchen until you do,” said April. “Have you had other jobs?”

  “No, uh, I’ve just been baking and cooking for private families,” said Ali, suddenly feeling incredibly unprepared for her new opportunity.

  April laughed. “Well, hold steady, keep your nose down and work your butt off,” said April. “That’ll at least keep you out of trouble.”

  Ali thought it sounded like ominous, but good advice. She resolved to keep it in mind.

  By going to Max’s, which she learned was the local hangout for the restaurant crowd, Ali had had a full education in the Golden Palm’s kitchen etiquette and procedures and by the time her head hit the pillow that night she realized she had never been more tired, more confused and more happy.

  ***

  Ali didn’t meet the elusive Adolphe for several days.

  “He works when others don’t,” Marcella told her and then rolled her eyes. It was a look that told Ali most of what she needed to know about Adolphe. High strung, high maintenance, genius.

  Ali paid studious attention and worked hard. Her efforts were not unnoticed and when Adolphe appeared suddenly at her elbow, she was startled. He watched her pipe Bavarian cream onto pastries. She abruptly stopped and stood back wondering if she should continue.

  “Go on,” he said quietly. He didn’t smile or frown. He seemed impartial to her work, but later was told that he approved. He walked away quickly. He seemed to almost float above the ground and moved in swift, smooth motions. His hair was jet back and slicked back. He had an extremely thin mustache and dark, penetrating eyes. Ali thought he looked like a fiendish character from an old cartoon.

  “Wow, I didn’t know what to make of him,” said Ali as she sat across the break table from Marcella. She sipped her water and picked at a salad.

  Marcella gave her a half smile. “He doesn’t give praise, but you’ll know it if he’s unhappy.”

  “All my direction comes from John or Jenny,” said Ali. “Will he be training me at all?”

  Marcella laughed out loud. “That’s a hoot! John and Jenny are his protégés. They were each here a year before Adolphe actually worked with them.” She took a bite out of a sandwich.

  Ali’s heart sank. She was hoping to learn from the Master himself, but took solace that she was learning from Smoke-Break John when he was around or Jenny, a quiet Asian woman who rarely spoke and was fond of showing vs. telling. Whenever Ali asked a question, she usually got a head nod instead of actual words.

  “So how long has John been here?” Ali asked. He was never around and didn’t appear to actually be doing much. He had showed her a few things, but most of her training was from Jenny.

  Another eye roll from Marcella. “You know he’s the owner’s nephew?”

  “Oh, that explains a lot,” said Ali. Marcella agreed and that was all they said on the matter.

  CHAPTER 13

  Ben hadn’t seen Ali much since she started at the restaurant. Her hours were long and she was usually too tired to go out. Tonight she was glad to see him. They’d be sharing a pizza and watching a movie. Ali was off for two days and finally able to hang out and relax.

  She’d been stockpiling money as the pay at the Golden Palm wasn’t too bad. Slowly she was paying off her Dad’s medical bills and although she hadn’t been able to see him they’d spoke several times a week on the phone and she was relieved to know he was healing well.

  Ali swung her tired body of the soft chair and answered the door. “Hope this is OK,” he said holding up a bottle of red pinot noir.

  “Yeah, great,” said Ali plopping back into the overstuffed chair in her living room. Ben was left standing at the door. “Come on in,” she said. “Don’t mind me; I’m kind of wiped out. I worked earlier and my feet are killing me. I think I’ve got to get some better chef’s clogs. I got mine on discount and they aren’t so great.”

  Ben came in, opened the wine and poured each of them a glass. Handing one to Ali, he asked, “So how do you like it? Is it what you thought it would be?”

  “Well, Ali said, yes and no. I mean, I’m learning a lot, but the main pastry chef Adolphe won’t be working with me directly for another couple of years. I’m learning mostly from Jenny, who is a killer chef and John, who is the owner’s nephew and mostly on a smoke break.”

  Ben smiled. “Well, that’s something. Is the pastry kitchen where you want to be?”

  “Yeah, I really think so,” said Ali. In her few trips to the hot kitchen she was amazed at the level of heat, expletives and the sound level. “They are maniacs over there,” she told Ben as she finished describing it to him.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to go to school and work there?”

  “Well, they said that once school starts I should concentrate on that and just work one day a week or so. After I graduate, I’ll be trained and ready to start full-time.”

  “Wow, I still can’t believe what an amazing opportunity you’ve got.”

  “I know. I try to count my blessings,” said Ali. “Even when my feet are killing me. So what’s up with you? How’s work?”

  Ben frowned. “It’s fine. Boring.”

  “Have you located any other firms here in the city that do the type of work you want?”

  “Yeah, actually I have. I spoke to a couple and they were pretty excited about the prospect of me working with them. They saw me on the news and knew about my track record.”

  “That’s great, Ben.”

  “Unfortunately, they also have zero budgets for a new hire,” he said.

  She frowned. It was all she could muster. As much as she wanted to care, she was just too tired.

  Luckily, the doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived. Ben took care of it and Ali jumped up to grab plates and napkins and the bottle of wine. She carried all of it back to her coffee table and slid a large slice of pepperoni and mushroom onto her plate.

  Ben settled on the sofa with his slice. He was tired of talking about work. He was tired of work altogether. It was time to just enjoy Ali and some quiet time.

  ***

  When Ben woke up it was just becoming dawn. The light in the room was dim and grey. He could hear the beginning of a few birds chirping. Literally early birds, he thought. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Ali was nowhere to be seen. He’d fallen asleep on her sofa and she’d let him slumber without waking him. He stretched out on the sofa and yawned.

  Two hours later he woke up again and this time Ali stood over him smiling. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  He looked up at her. “What a nice way to wake up,” he thought, seeing her pretty face first thing.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said as he righted himself on the sofa. He stretched. “Why didn’t you wake me and kick me out last night?”

  Ali measured the coffee into the maker and turned it on. “Cause you were so cute,” she said walking back to the living room. “I didn’t have the heart.”

  “Oh, well, thanks. I actually slept great. This sofa is pretty comfy.”

  “Yeah, I’ve slept there before. It’s not bad.”

  “So, what are your plans for the day?”

  “I plan to just get some things done around here and then relax. How ‘bout you?”

  “Same. I need to do some laundry and then I’m hitting the off button. This week was kind of brutal. I was in court nearly every day.”

  Ali went to the kitchen and poured coffee into two large mugs. She knew Ben liked it with a touch of sugar. She took it black. She handed him a sweetened cup full and sat across from him sipping it. He could see the steam coming of
f of it and joined her in sipping silence.

  “How about I go home and finish my chores and give you some time to do the same?” he asked rising.

  “OK, if you must.” She smiled up at him. “How about tonight? Plans?”

  “Nope. I’m all by my lonesome,” he said.

  “How about going out for a drink and maybe some sushi or something?”