Hail to the Chef

by Julie Hyzy

  As I watched her, I realized that for the first time since she’d received the news of Sean’s death, Mrs. Campbell was at peace.

  CHAPTER 25

  A WEEK LATER THERE WERE STILL A HUNDRED questions I hadn’t gotten answers to, but knowing the tight-lipped nature of the White House security personnel, I counted my blessings for having gotten as much as I had out of Gav.

  I thought about this as I sat in the kitchen, today’s Washington Post on the countertop in front of me. It was quiet and I appreciated the solitude. I’d sent everyone home early tonight. Dinner was done, and with no big events scheduled till next week, I decided we all needed some time off. Agda smiled and promised to be in early the next day. Bucky actually thanked me again, and I was surprised to notice Rafe helping Cyan into her coat as the two of them made plans for spending the evening together.

  The front page of the Post caught me up on the latest in the Blanchard Blowup, as they were calling it. There was yet another picture of Bindy, who, in every shot, seemed to be running past cameras, face covered, hopping into a waiting car or being hustled into the police station. Charges against her were still pending. Next to her photo was one of a smiling Senator Blanchard, who’d been indicted along with Manny and Yi-im.

  Blanchard held his head high and gripped a microphone with both hands. The caption below the picture quoted: “I am innocent of these ridiculous allegations.” His wife stood behind him, looking stricken and gaunt. The kids were nowhere to be seen.

  I scanned for updates, but it was mostly just rehash. I turned to page five to finish the article.

  The Blowup was hot stuff-real news-and I was thankful for the shift in attention away from me. Even though all the articles still made mention of my leap under the table to prevent the explosion-after all, that’s where the Blanchard Blowup story started-my name was being mentioned less often. For that, I was grateful.

  Secret Service personnel had been my constant companions. Two agents shuttled me back and forth to work since the big holiday commotion to keep me out of reach of the mob of reporters. Hordes of them camped outside the White House gates, every one of them eager to get an exclusive interview with the chef who had literally brought down the house-the gingerbread house. I didn’t complain about my escort service-instead of taking the Metro, I’d been riding in the back of a luxury sedan, with door-to-door attention. Tom had at first offered to take over body-guarding duties, but his schedule kept him busy until late in the evening almost every night. After all, his first duty was to the president. At least in the daytime. But he was always happy to do some extra undercover work with me.

  Tonight, exactly one week after the fracas, I was on my own again. My personal Secret Service detail had informed me they deemed it safe for me to resume my normal commute. Thank goodness. As much as I’d miss the cushy comfort of the chauffeured car, I was happy to be free of constant surveillance. I wondered how the president and his family tolerated the never-ending attention.

  I was about to close the newspaper when a related sidebar headline caught my eye: “Zendy Industries Sold.” The sidebar directed me to the business section-E, which I turned to as quickly as I could.

  It can’t be true, I thought, as I pulled out the section to search for the article. Mrs. Campbell was adamant. What could have caused her to change her mind?

  I didn’t have to search far. On the first page of the section, the Zendy headline was repeated and a lengthy update appeared below. I scanned, then realized I wasn’t comprehending. Starting from the top, I began again, trying to absorb this late-breaking news update.

  Mrs. Campbell had, indeed, announced an agreement to sell Zendy Industries. But she’d done so in a spectacularly intriguing way. She was quoted: “With the recent developments of which we’re all aware, I have decided not to continue my association with my former colleagues. While Treyton Blanchard and Nick Volkov are occupied with their own personal issues, I have come to understand that they have neither the time nor the inclination to see to the best interests of Zendy. With that in mind, I have taken Nick Volkov’s offhand advice. He may have been joking, but I am quite serious.

  “Although I am unable to finance an entire buyout, I do have sufficient resources to allow me a 51 percent share. The remaining 49 percent will be acquired by other investors.”

  When pressed to name these other investors, Mrs. Campbell was further quoted as saying, “I don’t care to divulge that to the press, at this time. But I can tell you that it is refreshing to work with investors I can trust.”

  Good for her. I smiled as I pulled the newspaper back together, and dropped it into the recycle bin. After taking a moment to disinfect the countertop, I headed home.

  CHAPTER 26

  NO REPORTERS WAITED FOR ME AT THE GATE. No camera crews stalked me on my short walk to the Mac-Pherson Square station. And yet…

  That prickling feeling was back.

  The evening was dark, as it usually is after eight at night in early December, but the cold, snappy air held a hint of electricity I couldn’t put my finger on. I turned to see if anyone followed, but the street was mostly quiet. A male-female couple walked a prancing Pekinese, which wore little leather boots on each paw.

  Across the street a few other pedestrians ambled, scurried, and strode, but no one paid me any attention.

  Once at the station, I slid my new Metro pass into the machine, and picked it up when it popped out of the slot on the top of the turnstile. Over the past week I’d been able to replace almost everything that had been stolen, including credit cards. Replacement cards showed up in my apartment’s mailbox with blazing speed. I guess they didn’t want me to miss even one day of holiday shopping. I always kept my cell phone in my back pocket, so that was one headache I didn’t have to deal with. My personal stuff, like the few pictures I carried, a little cash, and some recent receipts, were gone for good.

  As I returned the Metro pass to my purse, my fingers sought and found the pepper spray. Just wrapping my hand around the little canister made me feel more secure. Still, the uncomfortable feeling of being watched stayed with me until the train arrived. I paid careful attention to those who boarded the same time I did, but saw no one suspicious.

  Once settled in my seat, the feeling disappeared, and I attributed my paranoia to having gotten used to being followed by Secret Service agents every day for the past week. I’d get over it.

  At my stop, I took care to take note of the folks who got off with me. A woman with a baby, an elderly gentleman, and two young men with Mohawks. So far, so good.

  When I made it outside, however, the oppressive sense of being watched was back. I twisted, making a complete 360, but I saw no one of interest.

  Keeping my head down to fight off the wind, I hurried to make the quick trek from the station to my apartment building. I’d just gotten past the very spot I’d been accosted when I heard it.

  Double-tap footsteps behind me.

  I spun. My hand dug straight for my pepper spray.

  Nobody there.

  The footsteps stopped.

  I stole a quick glance in the direction of my building, gauging how fast I could get there, and how best to outpace the big guy, for I had no doubt he was back. In that instant I knew with certainty that the little Asian guy and his bulky cohort had been in league with Yi-im, and, it followed, with Blanchard.

  I scanned the area, knowing they would be bent on revenge.

  A rustle to my left.

  Shan-Yu, my would-be abductor, stepped from the shadows.

  I jumped backward as my heart thudded-crazed, like a gong in my chest.

  “You not smart woman,” he said. Behind him, Mr. Tap Shoes emerged, arms at his sides, his stance telling me he was ready to tackle me if I tried to move. I inched backward, my cold-sweaty hands fighting for a better grip on my pepper spray.

  “I’m not?” I asked, buying myself precious seconds. My hand still tucked inside my purse, I needed to get my index finger and thumb into pos
ition. There. I released the safety catch.

  Shan-Yu’s eyes caught the streetlight’s beam, glittering as he stepped closer.

  “You think you so smart,” he said, again. “But you not.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, knowing I needed a distraction. “Then how come you didn’t notice the Secret Service agents following me?”

  Instinctively, they both looked up. I leaped forward, dragging out the spray, holding my breath as I shot them both in the face. I held down the plunger as long as I could before backing up fast and averting my eyes.

  The two yelped, coughing and waving their hands as I bolted away from them, squinting to keep the chemical from burning my own eyes.

  I’d gone only two steps when I slammed into something hard. My first thought was that I’d hit a wall, or a tree, but when the limbs reached out to grab me, I knew better. I screamed, scratched, and tried to bite.

  “Ollie!”

  At the familiarity I stopped fighting. I looked up. “Gav?”

  He pushed me behind him and moved toward Shan-Yu and Mr. Tap Shoes, who were already being cuffed by two other agents. Seconds later, an unmarked car eased around the corner and the agents hustled the coughing creeps inside.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “How did you know?”

  Gav conferred with the men before turning to answer me. “We didn’t.”

  Realization was beginning to dawn. “You suspected these guys were part of Blanchard’s army.”

  He made a so-so motion. “We assumed.”

  “But you couldn’t find them.”

  “No.”

  “So you hung me out as bait?”

  Gav winced. “Something like that.”

  The two agents who’d corralled my attackers were finished loading them into the car. A second later they pulled away from the curb, and the agent in the passenger seat waved. I watched them for a long moment before I could speak again. “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

  “When you shouted about being protected by the Secret Service, I actually thought our cover had been blown,” he said. His mouth twitched-an almost smile. “Did you know we were tailing you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you seemed to be doing just fine on your own. I don’t think you even needed us.”

  I tried to smile, but I was shaking too much. Gav noticed.

  He walked me to my door, one hand on my elbow. “We’re packing it in, you know. We completed the staff training. Time to take the explosive show on the road.”

  “You’re not coming back?”

  “Not until we’re needed again.”

  I was surprised to realize I was sorry to see him go. I said as much, then added, “But for the president’s sake, I hope your team isn’t called back for a long time.”

  He held open the building’s front door. “Until then, Ollie,” he said, “I’m counting on you being our eyes and ears.”

  I scooted inside, then turned back. But I didn’t know what to say.

  Gav gave a quick two-fingered salute, and was gone.

  AN ADORABLE ASSEMBLY OF APPETIZERS

  FORGIVE THE TITLE-I CAN’T RESIST A GOOD alliteration. But it’s true that there’s nothing better to have in your cooking repertoire than a bunch of appetizer recipes. Most appetizers are fabulously tasty, and many are good for you, too (though not all; the cheese straws, brownies, and cookies below are pure sin). When you want to throw a fancy reception or a party and you don’t want to drag in waiters and bartenders to lend a hand, whipping together a big bunch of appetizers is a surefire way to feed a crowd and keep them happy without having to go through the trauma of a big sit-down dinner. Even at the White House, the number of affairs where we field a wide assortment of appetizers for guests to nibble on far exceeds the number of big State dinners we host each year. One real advantage of this kind of spread is that it makes it so much easier for people to mingle and talk. Washington really is a fairly small town, so the guests at most White House receptions are likely to have met one another before. But even when they haven’t, conversations always start at the appetizer tables. Usually it’s just advice not to miss a particularly succulent item in the array; but from such simple beginnings, real conversations grow.

  And if you put out the right kind of appetizer spread, people can truly make a meal out of it. The recipes below, some of which Mrs. Campbell chose for her receptions this year, are easy to make, easy to eat, and work well together as a display. With a wide variety of colors, textures, and tastes, these items create a wonderful appetizer party. All are made with ingredients easily available at any supermarket. (Though I have to say, it’s nice to grow your own herbs. If you have a sunny window, a few pots overflowing with chives, basil, sage, and parsley can really punch up your cooking. And they’re very easy to grow.) Most of these recipes can be prepared ahead of time, so you can enjoy your own party. Even the ones that need to be prepared right before the party are fast. Each recipe also stands well on its own, so you can also add them to your regular meal rotations if they strike your fancy.

  Enjoy the party-and happy noshing!

  Ollie

  APPETIZER PARTY MENU

  Blue-Cheese Straws

  Stuffed Cherry Tomatoes

  Asparagus Spears and Lemon Butter

  Garlic-Green Bean Bundles

  Mini Red Potatoes with Sour Cream, Cheddar, and Chives

  Bacon-and-Cornbread Muffins

  Little White Rolls

  Sugar-Cured Ham with White-Wine Honey Mustard

  Chicken-Fried Beef Tenderloin with White Onion Gravy

  Brownie Bites

  Gingerbread Men

  BLUE-CHEESE STRAWS

  ½ pound blue cheese, softened

  ½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened

  3 ounces cream cheese, softened

  2 tablespoons heavy cream

  ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

  ¼ teaspoon kosher salt

  3 cups flour, sifted

  ½ cup finely chopped smoked almonds (optional)

  Preheat oven to 400°F.

  Place blue cheese, butter, and cream cheese in bowl or mixer. Cream them together. Mixing by hand, add the rest of the ingredients, one at a time, until fully incorporated.

  Turn the dough out on a floured board. Roll out to a medium-thin dough (about ¼-inch thick). With a sharp knife, cut the dough into ½-inch-wide strips. Twist each strip until it is a loose spiral from top to bottom and lay the spirals on an ungreased cookie sheet, not touching their neighbors.

  Bake until strips are golden brown, 5-10 minutes. Remove to wire racks and let cool.

  Store in tightly covered tins lined with wax paper until ready to serve.

  STUFFED CHERRY TOMATOES

  1 8-ounce block cream cheese, softened

  ¼ cup sour cream

  1 small bunch chives, washed and chopped, about 3-4

  tablespoons (Reserve 1 tablespoon for garnish.)

  2 cloves garlic, cleaned and minced

  20 fresh basil leaves, washed and cut into thin strips

  Pinch kosher or sea salt, to taste

  1 pint cherry tomatoes, washed and dried

  Make the filling by combining the first six ingredients in a bowl and stirring well. Place in a pastry bag fitted with a large star point, if desired. Otherwise, the filling can be spooned into the tomatoes. Set filling aside.

  Using a sharp paring knife, cut a small slice off the bottom of a cherry tomato so that it will sit firmly on its tray without rolling around. Cut an X into the top of the cherry tomato with the same knife. Either use a watermelon baller to remove the pulp from the tomato, or squeeze it gently over a waste bowl to get the pulp out. Repeat with all the cherry tomatoes, laying them out in rows on the serving tray, ready to be filled.

  Pipe the cream-cheese mixture into the prepared tomatoes, or spoon it, for a more rustic look.

  Sprinkle finished dish with reserved chopped chives. Serve chilled.

  ASPARAGUS SPEARS AND LEMON
BUTTER

  1 pound fresh asparagus stalks, washed, tough stems cut away

  ¼ pound butter (if unsalted, add ¼ teaspoon salt)

  Fresh cracked pepper, to taste

  1 tablespoon fresh chopped parsley

  Juice of one medium lemon

  Place asparagus in a steamer basket. Place steamer basket into a large pot with about a half inch of boiling water in the bottom, and cover. Steam asparagus until bright green, but still a bit crisp, about 3-7 minutes, depending on the size of the asparagus.

  While asparagus is steaming, melt butter in a small saucepan. Add salt, pepper, parsley, and lemon juice and whisk well. Pour into serving bowl.

  Remove steamed asparagus. Place on oblong platter. Place the bowl of butter on one end of the platter with a small ladle for guests to pour it over their asparagus as they serve themselves.

  Serve warm.

  GARLIC-GREEN BEAN BUNDLES

  Two pounds fresh green beans, washed, ends and strings removed

  1 pound good-quality smoked bacon, sliced