Roux the Day

by Linda Wiken

  She introduced him to Alison, who winked at J.J. and spent most of the evening glancing at her and grinning. J.J. tried to ignore it all. She already felt a bit awkward having Devine there.

  They enjoyed appetizers and wine in the living room, talking mainly about Beth’s choice of cookbook and what was happening at Cups ’n’ Roses. Then they moved into the dining room for the dinner. The extra center leaf that had been added to Beth’s antique oak dining room table, along with the five chairs, filled most of the floor space in the small room. J.J. and Devine ended up sitting beside each other on one side, Alison and Evan on the other, with Beth at the head of the table near the door to the kitchen.

  After the open concept of J.J.’s apartment, she found it cozy but confining being in Beth’s. The building had been built in the ’50s and had a major dollop of charm, along with some very small rooms with high ceilings.

  “Now this,” Beth said, picking up her platter and passing it to Devine, “is Sara Paretsky’s recipe for Chicken Gabriella. If you’ve read any of her V. I. Warshawski books, about a private eye, by the way, Ty, Gabriella is her mom’s name. She was an Italian immigrant living in Chicago, and her daughter, V. I., is one of my favorite female sleuths. Next to our own J.J., that is.”

  J.J. blushed as the others laughed. She waited until the dish had gone around, and then picked up her own. “And this is from author Cathy Pickens. It’s Fried Yellow Squash.” She handed it across the table to Evan. “I dared to play around a bit with the recipe and added a blend of dried herbs to the flour mixture. I was tempted to add some red pepper flakes, too, but I admit, I chickened out.”

  “So to speak,” Beth added, with a wink.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why fry the squash?” Alison asked.

  “Well, my author writes the Southern Fried mysteries, and being set in the South, there’s a lot of food talk, too. She says that next to fried okra, fried squash is pretty much a staple at any Southern meal. Her sleuth, Avery Andrews, is a small-town lawyer, also female, who has a restaurant that’s a local haunt, but she also takes us to real restaurants. And those are going on my list if I ever visit down South.”

  J.J. dished out a spoonful as the bowl came back to her. “There aren’t any recipes in her mysteries, which is sort of unusual for cozies, I think, but she makes up for it by including this one in The Mystery Writers of America Cookbook. Enjoy.”

  “My turn,” Evan said. “I chose the Eggplant Caprese Salad with Basil Chiffonade and Olive Vinaigrette. It speaks for itself. I like to think of it as the big brother of a summer caprese salad.”

  Alison spooned some onto her plate. “It looks delicious and very Italian. So, eggplant’s been added. Anything else?”

  “My author, Lisa King, suggested using smoked mozzarella but I went straight to buffalo mozzarella. I’ve just discovered it at Baak’s Cheese Shop and now I can’t get enough of it.”

  “Oh, I love it, too,” Alison agreed.

  “Tell us about your author,” Beth prompted as she took her own serving.

  “She writes about Jean Applequist, a wine writer—my kind of writer—in San Francisco. She likes her recipes simple, something else in common with one of our members”—he winked at J.J.—“but she sure knows her wines. I read Death in a Wine Dark Sea, and like its title, it was kind of dark but it had a lot of twists and some lighter scenes, too. I’d read another by her.”

  “I’m glad we’ve gotten you started on a new series, Evan.” Beth grinned. “And even though I told Ty he didn’t have to bring anything, he insisted.”

  “I wanted to do Kinsey Millhone’s Famous Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwich”—he paused for effect, then grinned—“but Beth suggested a carb instead. So, here’s the Simplest Ever Potato Pancakes from author Hallie Ephron.” He grabbed the dish and passed it to J.J.

  “You’re a Sue Grafton fan?” J.J. asked. “Or do you just like peanut butter and pickles?”

  “I’m a reader and have kept up with all of her alphabet. Don’t look so surprised.”

  “Pleasantly so.”

  “And, I grew up eating peanut butter sandwiches, although not with pickles. Yet.”

  “And for our finale,” Beth continued, “Alison brought the dessert, didn’t you?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll tempt you with the name right now but you’ll have to wait and eat all your veggies first. It’s author Mary Jane Clark’s Sinfully Delicious Siesta Key Lime Pie.”

  “Oh man, I can hardly wait,” J.J. said, mouth already watering. “You’re not usually a pie person, though, Alison.”

  “I’ve decided to branch out.” She stuffed a forkful of chicken in her mouth.

  “This chicken is so moist, Beth. And what’s that flavor?” Evan asked.

  “Probably the Armagnac and pinot grigio. Do I get extra points?”

  “You bet.”

  They ate in silence and, J.J. knew from the looks on everyone’s faces, in total enjoyment of the feast. She’d learned over her months with the group that this was a good thing. The chef was being honored when everyone concentrated on eating.

  “Wonderful idea, Beth,” J.J. acknowledged, finally breaking the silence.

  “Hear! Hear!” Evan added. “To Beth.”

  “To us all,” she countered as they toasted one another. “And to our J.J. So, who’s going to fill us in on what’s been going on?”

  J.J. took a sip of wine. “I don’t really know all the details. My guess is that Dawn, who’s been a volunteer on Gary Myers’s campaign for quite some time, heard Miranda arguing with the campaign manager about an affair. She assumed it was about her affair with Gary and that everyone would find out about it. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. She was at the casino night especially for that reason. I don’t know how she managed to get away undetected. She must have had a lot of blood on her.” She shuddered just thinking about it.

  “She made a quick trip to the head to change her clothes and wash up. Then she tossed the knife and her dress overboard and neither have been found as yet,” Devine said. “It was a good plan for such a flake.”

  “What do you mean?” J.J. asked.

  “There was no affair between her and Myers. It was totally in her head.”

  “You know that for a fact?”

  “Yes.”

  “But what if Myers is lying about it? He has a lot to lose, after all.”

  “I don’t believe he is. And there’s no proof. Nothing she says makes sense. Either way, the motive still stands.”

  “That’s very sad,” Beth said. “She must have really needed to be loved.”

  J.J. sat staring at her plate. How had she missed that?

  Devine covered her hand with his. “It was so real for her and continues to be. She’ll get the help she needs, though.”

  “I’m glad about that. But poor Miranda. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Most murders shouldn’t,” Alison added. “But right now, we’re here celebrating J.J.’s recovery and another Culinary Capers dinner. Let’s party.”

  Devine gave J.J.’s hand a squeeze. She squeezed back. And smiled.

  Hmm, maybe we’ll have to give that first date a try.

  Recipes

  It’s been such fun having the Culinary Capers dinner club use The Mystery Writers of America Cookbook in Roux the Day. And I’m particularly delighted that noted authors Sara Paretsky, Cathy Pickens, and Lisa King have given their permission to reprint their recipes. Enjoy!

  Chicken Gabriella

  By Sara Paretsky

  Enough olive oil to cover the bottom of a skillet, plus 1 tablespoon

  2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

  1 fryer chicken, cut into pieces

  ¼ cup Armagnac

  1 cup pinot grigio (or other dry white wine)

  6 Calimyrna figs, cut into quarters

  Coat the bottom of a skillet with olive oil and heat for about 30 seconds. Add garlic and sauté until golden brown, stirring constantly. Rem
ove garlic and reserve.

  Add the additional 1 tablespoon olive oil to the skillet. Turn heat to high, quickly add chicken, and sear each piece on both sides.

  Remove the skillet from the heat. Pour the Armagnac into the skillet and flame it with a match. (Light the Armagnac the instant you put it in the pan or it will not flame.) Return the pan to the heat.

  Once the Armagnac has cooked off, add the pinot grigio and simmer the chicken, covered on low heat until tender, approximately 30 to 45 minutes.

  Add the figs and sautéed garlic for the last 10 minutes of cooking.

  Serve with a green salad and a crisp, cold white wine.

  YIELD: 4 SERVINGS

  Fried Yellow Squash

  By Cathy Pickens

  Oil for frying

  1 to 2 eggs

  ½ cup milk (or buttermilk)

  1 to 4 medium yellow squashes, sliced into rounds about ¼ inch thick

  1 cup flour

  1 cup cornmeal

  Salt and black pepper to taste

  Heat about 2 inches of oil in a large Dutch oven or very large skillet. The oil has to be hot (350°F or 400°F) to cook the squash properly.

  Layer some paper towels on a large plate and set it beside the stove.

  Lightly beat the eggs in a bowl and add the milk. Soak the squash in the milk-egg mixture for a few minutes while you prepare the flour mixture.

  In a bowl or large plastic bag, mix the flour, cornmeal, salt, and pepper.

  Remove some squash from the milk mixture (enough for one layer in your Dutch oven or pot) and add to the flour mixture. Dredge or gently shake to thoroughly coat.

  Add the squash to the hot oil in a single layer and fry until toasty brown (about 3 minutes). The oil should sizzle when you drop in a test piece. Lift out the cooked squash and drain on the paper towels. Cook the remaining squash in batches and serve immediately, while hot.

  YIELD: 2-4 SERVINGS

  Eggplant Caprese Salad with Basil Chiffonade and Olive Vinaigrette

  By Lisa King

  1 medium eggplant, about 1 pound

  ¼ cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing the eggplant

  Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  1 8-ounce ball smoked mozzarella

  4 Kalamata or other brine-cured black olives, pitted and chopped fine

  1 garlic clove, minced

  1 tablespoon sherry vinegar (you can substitute red wine vinegar)

  6 to 8 large basil leaves

  Preheat a broiler with a rack placed about 4 inches from the heat. Line a sheet pan with foil.

  Trim the eggplant and cut it crosswise into ½-inch slices. You should have 8 slices. Brush them on both sides with oil and season lightly with salt and pepper.

  Put the slices in one layer on the foil-covered sheet pan and broil until browned and tender, turning once and moving slices around to ensure even cooking. (You can also grill the eggplant over medium coals.) Let cool to room temperature.

  Arrange the eggplant slices on a platter. Trim the rounded ends from the smoked mozzarella ball and cut it crosswise into 8 slices. Put one on each eggplant slice.

  Make the vinaigrette: Put the olives, garlic, and vinegar in a small bowl. Whisk in the olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

  Make the basil chiffonade: Stack the basil leaves on a cutting board and roll up the long way. Slice the rolled-up basil into thin strips.

  Scatter the basil chiffonade over the eggplant and mozzarella. Stir the vinaigrette and spoon it over the salad.

  Serve at room temperature, accompanied by any remaining vinaigrette.

  YIELD: 4 SERVINGS

  The horn of a passing car blared so loudly J.J. Tanner almost knocked herself out when her head snapped up and hit the doorframe of the SUV she was helping to pack.

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

  “Are you okay, J.J.? It’s that idiot Darrel Moses making a fool of himself each time he passes by.” Alison Manovich glared at the taillights of the old, beat-up Ford pickup.

  J.J. rubbed the back of her head and tried not to wince too much. “An admirer, is he?”

  Alison made a face. “Just erase that thought from your head, girl. He’s the last guy on earth I’d be interested in, if I were even interested in meeting someone.” She leaned the folding camp chairs up against the side panel inside the back of her silver SUV. “There should be enough room for a couple of coolers in here. Surely all the food we need for the picnic will fit into two.”

  J.J. joined her at the back of the SUV and glanced in. “I’d say that’s plenty of room. In fact, there’s also lots of space for Beth, Connor, and me. And if Evan decides to drive his new sports car, he can put some food on his passenger seat, after all.” She grinned. “It will serve him right. Show-off.”

  Alison shook her head, her blonde ponytail flipping from side to side. “Who would have thought those two would just up and buy a sports car? It’s a totally new image for Evan and Michael. It must have cost a small fortune.”

  “Well, it’s not as if they have a family to support. They both have very good jobs and a house, so they’re entitled to play with a car.”

  Alison sighed. “You’re right of course. I’m just seeing a little green, I guess.”

  “I can see you behind the wheel of a convertible, especially in your cop uniform. Now that would be an attention getter.”

  Alison’s answer was drowned out by the very loud arrival of a motorcycle. Both girls stared in surprise, wondering who’d joined the party. When the Harley Davidson came to a stop just inches away from them and Connor Mac lifted off his helmet, they broke into shrieks.

  “OMG, when did you get that?” Alison asked, dancing around the shiny black bike, giving it a thorough once-over.

  “I picked it up this afternoon. What do you both think?”

  “I love it.” Alison answered first. “I’m in awe. I need a ride and soon.”

  Connor looked delighted. “Happy to oblige anytime.”

  J.J. eyed it skeptically. “I think the next time we go to a movie, I’m walking.”

  She smiled to keep it light. They’d gone out to one movie since the murder last fall of his on-again, off-again girlfriend. It was complicated. He was still grieving. The bike was a total surprise. Maybe it was part of the recovery process. She had to admit, it looked like it might be working.

  “So, are you driving it to the picnic tomorrow?” Alison queried.

  “Of course. It’s going to be great weather and that’s exactly what a bike is for.”

  “What about your food?” J.J. asked. She wasn’t fond of motorcycles, feeling they were too loud and much too dangerous, but she tried not to let that show and put a damper on his obvious delight.

  Connor’s smile was all little-boy-begging. “I thought you might take it up for me, J.J. Maybe you could swing by on your way over here tomorrow morning?”

  J.J. sighed. She was such a pushover. “All right. But I have dibs on any extra chocolate that may find its way there.”

  “Are we going to convoy?” Alison asked, back to packing her SUV, stuffing a large golf umbrella behind the chairs.

  “I’m up for anything,” Connor answered, climbing off his bike and releasing the kickstand. He looked around. “No Evan or Beth yet?”

  “Well done,” J.J. said, as Beth’s red van pulled into the driveway, stopping a few inches from the bike. “You must have conjured her up.”

  Connor had thrown up his hands to warn Beth away from his bike, an exaggerated look of terror on his face.

  Beth opened her driver’s door and leaned out. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me. Connor, you didn’t go over to the dark side, did you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Lord help us.” Beth struggled out of the car and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths and glaring at the bike.

  “Are you all right, Beth?” J.J. asked. Beth looked even more tired than usual. Maybe it had been a hard day at her Cups ‘n‘ Roses c
afé. She hoped that’s all it was. J.J. marveled at the amount of energy her older friend seemed to always have.

  “A little fatigued, that’s all.” Beth tucked her short gray hair behind both ears and turned to the street. “Evan wanted to drive his new baby over so I expect he’ll be making his big entrance any minute now.”

  On cue, a shiny red Miata, top down, pulled up in front of Alison’s townhouse. Evan parked, blocking the driveway, and took his time getting out and sauntering over to the rest of the Culinary Capers Dinner Club.

  “Do you like it?” He beamed like a proud papa. Then he noticed the Harley. “What’s this? Am I to be outdone by a biker?” He added a note of scorn to his voice but smiled.

  “Boys and their toys,” Beth said in a loud voice, and wandered over to Alison’s SUV. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nope,” Alison said. “I think with the chairs pushed up against one side, there’ll be plenty of room for most of the food. You’re riding with me tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “I’d be happy to.” Beth looked at Evan. “And just what are you going to be able to bring along to the picnic in that cream puff?”

  “I thought I’d bring J.J.”

  J.J.’s mouth dropped open. “First I’ve heard of it but I’d be delighted. Can I drive?”

  Evan sputtered. “In a word, no.”

  He leaned into the car, pulled out a long red scarf, and passed it to J.J. “But you can wear this. Don’t you think it brings a certain je ne sais quoi?”

  “Very continental, sir. But I seem to remember that a long scarf and a sports car can be a deadly combination.” J.J. grimaced, thinking of Isadora Duncan. “And where did you get the scarf? Did it come with the car?”

  “It was a gift from the salesperson I bought the car from. A woman.” He grinned and wrapped it around his neck. “Now, what’s the final game plan?”

  “I was just saying we could meet here around ten, load up and then convoy over to North Island,” Alison suggested. “It shouldn’t take too much more than a half hour to reach the beach and if we get there early, we can snag a good picnic table.”

  J.J. shot a covert glance at Connor. North Island had played a big part in all that had happened in the fall. He didn’t let on if he was upset.