A cheer went up. Gingersnap, Trixie, and even Mr. Luciano’s Gina barked and danced in crazy circles. Twinkletoes leaped to the safety of a tabletop, but she held out one paw, and Zelda seized the moment to high-five with her.
Only Ben looked on in shock.
Oma hugged me again. “Welcome home, liebling.”
Wagtail might not be as sophisticated as Washington. There weren’t any high-rises or big chain stores, and it was miles and miles away from everything. But the Sugar Maple Inn was where I wanted to be, with Trixie, Twinkletoes, Gingersnap, and especially Oma.
Author’s Note
One of my dogs suffered from severe food allergies that did not allow him to eat commercial dog food. Consequently, I learned to cook for my dogs and have done so for many years. Consult your veterinarian if you want to switch your dog over to home-cooked food. It’s not as difficult as one might think. Keep in mind that, like children, dogs need a balanced diet, not just a hamburger. Any changes to your dog’s diet should be made gradually so your dog’s stomach can adjust.
Chocolate, alcohol, caffeine, fatty foods, grapes, raisins, macadamia nuts, onions and garlic, salt, xylitol, and unbaked dough can be toxic to dogs. For more information about foods your dog should not eat, consult the Pet Poison Helpline, atpetpoisonhelpline.com/pet-owners/.
Recipes
Sugar Maple Inn Caramel Banana Oatmeal
For people. Makes 2–3 portions or 4 small portions.
Caramel
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons butter
dash of salt
Place ingredients in a microwave-safe bowl. (I use a Pyrex 2-cup measure.) Microwave in short bursts from 20–50 seconds, stirring each time until it bubbles up and is hot. Set aside to thicken and cool slightly.
Cook oatmeal in your preferred method. Or fill each individual bowl with oatmeal and add enough water to barely cover it. Microwave for 1 to 2 minutes.
Slice one banana for each serving, and cover the cooked oatmeal with the slices. Drizzle with caramel.
Oma’s Hungarian Goulash
For people. Contains onions—do not feed to dogs.
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 pounds cubed stew beef or pork (do not use lean meat, like a tenderloin)
2 cups chopped onions
2 teaspoons marjoram
2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
1 cup water or stock
4 carrots, peeled and sliced
4 medium potatoes, cubed (optional)
Heat the oil in a deep pot. Brown the meat and remove. Sauté the onions in the same pot. Add the marjoram, garlic, paprika, water, carrots, and meat. Cover and simmer 1 1/2 hours over low heat until the meat is tender.
If you wish to add potatoes, you may cook them in the goulash for the last 1/2 hour. Or, so they won’t soak up the sauce, you can cook them in another pot and add them to the goulash for the last five minutes.
Sugar Maple Inn Cherry Strudel
For people.
10 sheets 12 x 17 filo dough
2 cups pitted and halved fresh cherries
1/4 cup sugar (I use sweet black cherries, you may need more if you use sour cherries)
1/3 cup graham cracker crumbs
1/2 of a lemon
1 teaspoon vanilla or brandy (optional)
6 tablespoons butter
powdered sugar
Mix the cherries, sugar, lemon and vanilla or brandy in a bowl. (If you’re very lazy, you can skip this step. Watch for the ** later.)
Melt the butter and brush a little bit on a baking sheet. Preheat the oven to 350.
On an ungreased baking sheet, spread the first sheet of filo dough. Brush with butter. Lay another sheet of the filo dough on top of it and brush with butter. Repeat until you have ten sheets of filo dough.
Spoon the cherries onto the filo about an inch from the edge in a line along the long side of the filo. Sprinkle with the graham cracker crumbs. (** If you’re not using vanilla or brandy, you can just lay the cherries in a line, sprinkle with sugar, sprinkle with graham cracker crumbs and squeeze the lemon over top of it all.)
Roll the cherry end slowly, brushing the top of the filo as you go. Lay it seam side down on the buttered baking sheet and add one more buttery swipe to the top. Cut small diagonal vents along the top. Bake 25 minutes, brush with butter and return to oven for another 20 minutes. Sift powdered sugar over the top to dress it up—and serve. It’s good warm and cold!
Sweet Dog Barkery Cinnamon-Pumpkin Muffins
For people. Makes 12 muffins.
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup dark brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup regular sugar
3/4 cup canned pumpkin
Swirl
1/2 cup dark brown sugar, packed
2 teaspoons cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350. Fill cupcake pan with liners.
Mix the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and 1 teaspoon cinnamon in a bowl and stir with a fork to mix. Set aside.
Whisk the eggs, and add the vegetable oil, 1/2 cup dark brown sugar, the regular sugar, and the pumpkin. Blend well. Dump in the flour mixture and mix with a spoon until just blended. Do not overmix.
In a separate bowl, combine the 1/2 cup dark brown sugar with the 2 teaspoons of cinnamon.
Fill the liners almost full. Add 1 teaspoon or so of the cinnamon-sugar swirl mixture to the top of each muffin. Using a cake tester or bamboo skewer, sweep through the muffin to mix the cinnamon into them.
Bake at 350 for 15 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean.
Peanut Butter Cookies
For dogs.
3/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
pinch salt
1 egg
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon milk
2/3 cup peanut butter
Preheat oven to 350. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Mix flour and baking powder and set aside. In a mixer, beat the egg with olive oil and milk. Add peanut butter and mix well. Add flour and mix. The dough will be thick. Roll into 1/2 inch diameter balls for large dogs, and 1/4 inch balls for small dogs. If you prefer crisper cookies, flatten them with the heel of your hand or a fork. Bake 15 minutes.
The Blue Boar Pumpkin Dessert
For dogs.
3 tablespoons canned pumpkin (not pumpkin-pie mix)
3 tablespoons no-fat or low-fat Greek yogurt
Swirl together so there are pretty pumpkin and white swirls. Serve.
Sugar Maple Inn Seafarer Supper
For dogs. Makes 2–3 Gingersnap-size servings or 5–6 Trixie-size servings.
1 average wild-caught cod filet (about 1/2—3/4 pound raw)
3 cups cooked barley
2 cups steamed green beans
Preheat oven to 400. Place the cod in a glass baking dish, and cook 20–25 minutes or until the fish flakes apart easily. Flake the fish and combine with barley and green beans. Serve slightly warm.
Sugar Maple Inn Travel-Tummy Dinner
For dogs. Makes 2–3 Gingersnap-size servings and 5–6 Trixie-size servings.
1–2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound 4 percent fat ground beef
3–4 cups cooked white rice
1 cup cooked spinach, chopped
Heat the olive oil in a 3 to 4-inch-deep pan. Make rough burger shapes out of the ground beef, and cook on each side 3–4 minutes until the middle is red but not raw. Use a metal spatula to roughly chop the meat into pieces. (For picky eaters, chop the meat into tiny bits.) Add the rice and spinach. Mix thoroughly. Serve slightly warm.
Turn the page for a preview of Krista Davis’s next Domestic Diva Myst
ery . . .
The Diva Wraps It Up
Coming soon from Berkley Prime Crime!
Dear Natasha,
My son-in-law is quite a cook. I would love to give him a set of professional quality knives for Christmas. Can you recommend some good brands?
Hungry Mom in Turkey, Arkansas
Dear Hungry Mom,
Never give knives as a gift. The gift of a knife is believed to sever the friendship. In this case, it might even sever the relationship between your daughter and her husband! Unless, of course, that’s what you had in mind, in which case any old knives would do.
Natasha
Horace Scroggins poured hot chocolate into a mug. “It’s my own special blend.” He glanced out the door of his office as though he thought employees might be eavesdropping to hear his secret ingredients. “I add vanilla! Learned it from my true love.”
He was too cute. I accepted the mug and made a fuss like I thought vanilla in hot chocolate was very special indeed.
Horace had always reminded me of Santa Claus. A petite man with rosy round cheeks and a belly that jiggled, 364 days of the year he wore a bow tie and suspenders, and at Christmastime they were inevitably red. On the day of the Scottish Christmas Walk, he donned a kilt and proudly paraded through the streets of Old Town.
I had never heard Horace utter a bad word about anyone. In his early sixties, he had a head of fluffy hair as white as snow. He always smiled, amazing in itself since he was married to Edith Scroggins, the most odious and unfriendly woman imaginable.
As an event planner, I didn’t typically handle small company gatherings, but for the past few years, Horace had talked me into arranging his real estate company’s Christmas party. It kicked off the Christmas season in Old Town. Horace had bought a magnificent historical town house for his real estate business many long years ago. His staff delighted in decorating it with a towering balsam fir in the two-story foyer. Scottish tartan ribbons curled through wreaths in the most tasteful and elegant manner, and groups of ruby red poinsettias graced antique tables and mantels. The muted colonial green walls provided a perfect backdrop for the tartan ribbons and bold reds.
It was Horace’s habit to invite people to whom his company had sold homes in Old Town, Alexandria, which included half my neighbors.
He sat down in his desk chair. The weathered leather gave, soft and cushy under his weight. He drank from his mug like he was thirsty and smiled at me. “Always settles my stomach. There’s nothing like hot chocolate to cure whatever ails you.” He held an orange box out to me. “Peanut brittle?”
“No, thanks. Queasy tummy?” I asked. “The party is going very well. You needn’t worry.”
“You did a lovely job, Sophie. Just getting older, I guess. Can’t eat everything I used to.”
Luis Simon, a prominent psychiatrist who had bought a home on my street through Scroggins Realty, popped his head in the doorway. With prominent cheekbones and sultry bedroom eyes, Luis was worthy of posing for the cover of a romance novel. He carried a cup of English Bishop, a flaming holiday punch loaded with rum and oranges studded with cloves. “Horace! Where’s the Scottish dirk you were telling me about?”
“Dirk?” I asked.
Horace jumped up. He steadied himself briefly, his fingertips on his desk. “A traditional Scottish dagger, my dear.” He turned to the bookcase behind his desk, took a tiny key from a book, and unlocked a desk drawer. He removed the knife gingerly and proudly presented it in his open palms as though it were a prized possession.
“An antique. The sheath bears sterling silver thistles.”
Probably hand carved, the sheath appeared to be ebony. I didn’t have to be an antiques expert to see that it bore the hallmarks of age.
He grasped the handle. A silver crown on the top held a large amber stone. Horace withdrew the handle to reveal a gleaming knife. “I like to imagine that it was really used, and not just worn for ceremonies.”
Luis whistled his admiration and took the knife from Horace. “It’s sharp! And heavier than I expected. You could do some damage with this thing.” He danced backward and extended his arm as though it were a sword.
“They made things to last in the old days, didn’t they?” Horace beamed. “Let’s find Babineaux. He wanted to see it, too.” He locked the drawer again and tucked the key back into the book.
They scuttled out of Horace’s office with the enthusiasm of little boys who had found a shiny object. I followed them out, and moseyed toward the buffet to check on the food. Guests couldn’t seem to get enough of the oysters on the half shell and rolls of salmon on pumpernickel with pink peppercorns and crème fraîche. The baked Brie with toasted pecans and fig glaze was always a hit. I couldn’t resist a taste of the melting cheese with a hint of salt and a smidge of sweet fig. Heavenly! And I had to try the seared foie gras with caramelized pears. The caterer had outdone himself.
Everyone appeared to be having fun. I checked my watch, grabbed my pashmina, and slipped out the front door in search of the carolers I’d hired, shivering at the chill. Mother Nature had cooperated beautifully, sending us sparkling snowflakes. Not enough to have to shovel, but the right amount for perfect ambiance. I had worn a red velvet dress in the spirit of the season, but it lacked sleeves. No matter. The pashmina would cover my bare arms. Besides, I didn’t plan to be outdoors long.
The carolers hurried along the street toward me. Dressed in traditional Victorian garb, with white faux fur trim on their clothes, they fit in perfectly on Old Town’s colonial streets.
They gathered in front of the door, and at the signal, I opened the door and stepped aside on the sidewalk to watch them.
They began with “Deck the Halls.” The doors to the upstairs balcony opened, and Horace led a small group out to watch. From below I couldn’t help but notice the blanched color of his normally rosy face. He still smiled, though, and listened to the voices blend.
But then I saw him grasp the railing with both hands and appear to sway. None of the people behind him seemed to realize that he wasn’t well.
He leaned forward, his upper body draped against the railing, and they finally clustered around him in concern. With an enormous snap, the railing split, and Horace plunged headlong onto the sidewalk.
Murder, She Barked: A Paws & Claws Mystery (A Paws and Claws Mystery) Page 28