He chuckled. “That is original, I’ll agree with you there.”
“I did make a really good bacon tomato one, though. And a delicious cookies and cream variety. I’m still working on one perfect recipe to bake if I make it to the finals. One perfect secret recipe.”
“I see. Well, would you care to come in early some morning and help out? I’d be happy to show you a few tricks of the trade.”
It seemed that I had been sized up, and that I’d passed. I grinned. “I’d love that. When?”
“How about Tuesday. Be here at four a.m.”
“Wow. Okay!”
I shook his hand again and skipped away toward State Street.
I had a good feeling about this.
I’ve got another special treat for you, readers! Zoe has created the best quiche recipe ever. You’ve got to make it, try it, and love it.
Zoe’s Veggie Quiche Recipe
Ingredients
1 frozen pie crust, thawed
1/2 pound grated cheddar cheese
1/2 cup grape tomatoes, cut in half
1/2 cup fresh mushrooms, cleaned and diced
1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, soaked and diced
1 tablespoon white onion, diced
4 large eggs
3/4 cup half-and-half
1 teaspoon chopped fresh basil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Thaw the frozen pie crust and place it in a glass pie pan. Place the cheese on the pie crust first. Place the grape tomatoes, mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, and white onion on the pie crust and spread them around evenly. In a medium-size bowl, mix the eggs, half-and-half, basil, salt, and pepper together. Add the egg mixture to the pie pan slowly. Some of the vegetables inside will float; that’s fine. Place in the oven and bake for approximately 40 to 45 minutes or until the center is solid and the blade of a paring knife comes out free of clear liquid when inserted in the center. Cool slightly and serve warm. Makes 8 servings.
August 1 8:17 a.m.
Chapter Sixteen
Tea … is a religion of the art of life.
—OKAKURA
SCONE CONTEST LEADER BOARD
1. Master Baker…………587 followers
2. Scone-y Nation………572 followers
3. PastrySwagger……….494 followers
4. SweetCakes………….431 followers
5. Miss Cuppycake……..404 followers
11. SteepingLeafScone….145 followers
Have you ever set your alarm for three thirty a.m.? I bet you haven’t, especially not in the middle of summer. Unless your parents wanted to take you on a trip and your plane was going to leave at five. Then it wouldn’t seem so crazy. Anyway, that’s what I did on Monday night, the evening before I was to learn how to bake from a real pro. I felt excited, but also sure I wouldn’t get much sleep at all. I promised myself that I would take good notes, so even if I was too tired to remember anything I learned, I’d at least have something to show for it.
My mom was veeeeery reluctant to let me go bake in the middle of the night with a stranger, but fortunately, she called Louisa. It turns out that my grandmother knew Tom Hines and had even helped him pick out which teas to serve in his café when it opened. Thank goodness Madison was such a relatively small town and that Louisa knew practically everyone who’d ever lived on the isthmus. My dad didn’t want me to bike in the middle of the night, so he agreed to drive me downtown and then just go to work early. Once in a while I have to admit it: My parents are pretty great.
When I arrived at the bakery and peered through the front door, Tom was already there, along with another person I’d never met. She had short hair dyed pink and a ring in her eyebrow. I knocked and then put my Steeping Leaf apron on. I was tying it while trying not to drop my notebook and pen when the door swung open.
“Good morning!” Tom bellowed. I winced and blinked, trying to wake up.
“Good morning,” I said, considerably quieter.
“I’m impressed you showed up,” he said. “Looks like we have a real baker here, Priscilla. This is Priscilla, she is my assistant. This is Annie.”
“Hey,” was all she said. It looked like she was preparing a work space, arranging various ingredients on a large woodblock table. It was okay with me that she wasn’t very talkative. I didn’t feel super chatty myself. Even my hair was less poofy than usual at this hour.
“We’re going to make croissants first,” Tom announced. “You know what the most important ingredient is when you’re making a croissant?”
I thought about some of the best ones I’d tried. They were always deliciously flaky and extra buttery.
“Butter?” I answered hesitantly.
“Bingo!” he cried. “You have the soul of a gourmand, my young friend.”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw Priscilla roll her eyes a little bit. I smiled.
“Thank you.” I made a note.
“Oh, you don’t need to take notes, kiddo. We’re just talking. If you want to win this thing, you have to become a baker through and through, not follow notes.”
“Okay,” I said. No wonder Louisa had encouraged my mom to let me hang out here. This Tom character was cut from the same cloth as my Zen grandmother. “How do I do that?”
“Take a deep breath,” he instructed. I did what he said. The shop smelled good, like butter and chocolate. “Deeper!” I tried again, this time with my eyes closed.
“Good. A real baker lives and breathes her work.” Tom sat his wide frame down on a small stool and reached for a stick of butter. I could already see that the bulk of the real baking would be done by Priscilla. She worked efficiently as her boss gestured to another stool for me to sit.
“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t try to take a note. I set my notebook on the floor, in fact.
“First, we’re going to talk ingredients. This here is the finest butter in the state. It comes directly from a farmer in Dodge County. We’ve been friends since we were both in diapers.”
“Wow.”
“Exactly,” Tom said. “It’s very important to know precisely where everything comes from. I know what the cows eat, even. Now, what do you plan to put into your winning scone?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not quite sure yet. I know that my secret ingredient will be tea—even though it’s not technically a secret anymore—and I was thinking of using currants or blackberries and small toffee pieces.”
“Sounds good. But might I suggest that you don’t need any of that?”
“I don’t?”
“Nope. If you did it right, you could easily win this contest with a plain scone using only the most basic ingredients: flour, buttermilk, baking soda, egg, and a pinch of salt. Maybe a little butter.”
“That seems … hard to believe,” I finally said. I mean, I actually loved plain scones more than most people did, because they were delicious with clotted cream and a little jam. But this was the big time. A trip to London was on the line. I was pretty sure I needed to bring as much razzle-dazzle to the stage in Chicago as was humanly possible. Assuming I made it that far, of course.
“It’s perfectly reasonable to believe. A baker lives and dies by these basic ingredients. If each one of them is of the highest quality and integrity, it doesn’t matter what frills you add.
“It’s like with people,” he continued, leaning back on his stool. Priscilla was definitely rolling her eyes now. But she also winked at me. “Say you have a person who always has the most be-yoo-tiful clothing. Tell me, would you like that person with the pretty clothes, if she were rude? No, you wouldn’t. Or take a person who happened to be an incredibly famous singer. Would you want to spend time with him if he were dishonest? I should hope not. The fashion sense and the singing talent in a person are like berries and toffee in a scone: a bonus. But what you have to have, what you must have, is character. And the character of your scone will come from the flour, the buttermilk
, and the butter … and from how you handle these cornerstones. As for the character of a human being? That, I cannot help you with. But fortunately, you don’t have to bake one of those.” He cracked up. And, I’m not even kidding, slapped his knee a few times. I grinned.
“I’m glad I came here, Mr. Hines. This is all really interesting.”
“You’re grandmother is a good baker too,” Tom said. “She loves food. And that’s the first thing you’ve got to do.”
“I love food too. Especially with tea.”
“Good. Now all you need is some practice. Bake your scone again and again until the proportion of ingredients to each other is exactly right. Practice until you could make them with your eyes closed. Then—and only then—think about what your bonus ingredients will be. But trust me. You don’t need ’em.”
“Got it. So how can I help here today?”
We got serious about baking then. Priscilla showed me how to handle the delicate croissant dough, and Tom continued to share his baking philosophy—really his philosophy about everything—with me. He thought it was important for bakers to be happy people, because he felt the emotions of the person making the food could be tasted by his customers. He also believed in sharing and trading ingredients, because that way, the goodwill of lots of people went into a single loaf of bread. Finally, he thought the best way to make truly delicious food was to make it for people that you care about.
“You know what the secret ingredient in all of my bread is, Annie?”
I wasn’t sure, so I said, “Butter?” again.
He chuckled. “Close, my new friend. Joy.”
Dear readers,
I had the honor of baking with a true Madison original this morning, Mr. Tom Hines. He taught me the importance of using high-quality ingredients in my scones and how to bake with joy. Before I forget, I wanted to share some of his life philosophies with you. Then, I need more sleep! Bakers get up EARLY.
Q: Which chefs or bakers inspire you?
Tom: Julia Child, of course. If you haven’t read My Life in France, her memoir, you must. She was filled with joie de vivre and a pure love of food, people, and experiences. She’s my hero, truly. Julia liked to say, “You don’t have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces—just good food from fresh ingredients.” I completely agree.
Q: Where do you get your ingredients?
Tom: Directly from farmers whenever possible. Sometimes I visit the farms in person; other times I go to farmer’s markets. I understand that people love the convenience of large grocery stores, but in my humble opinion, smaller is better. Getting to know my local food producers, butchers, coffee roasters, and gardeners is fun.
Q: Coffee or tea?
Tom: Coffee.
Q: What??
Tom: Sorry.
Q: Any advice for new bakers?
Tom: Don’t be afraid to get creative. Don’t be afraid of any part of it, really. Try everything, learn from your mistakes, do it again. Food is life, and life is supposed to be messy. If you’re clean all the time, you’re not trying hard enough. I want to see flour in your hair, people!
Q: Thank you. Even though you like coffee better than tea, I still think you’re cool.
Tom: I’m honored, Annie Green. Knock ’em dead. I’ll certainly try, Mr. Hines!
<3 Annie
August 4 9:03 a.m.
Chapter Seventeen
I am so fond of tea that I could write a whole dissertation on its virtues.
—JAMES BOSWELL
My time with Tom Hines made a big impression on me. After I went home at nine a.m. to take a nap, I couldn’t fall asleep right away. I kept thinking about what Tom had said about the basic ingredients of the scone and how they compared to the basic ingredients of a person. I was lucky to know people with so many great flavors: Zoe with her tennis talents and gardening skills, Genna with her artistic ability and outgoing nature, Louisa with her warmth and knowledge of tea and yoga and healthy food. But then I thought about how, according to Tom, all of that stuff was just a bonus. What really mattered was that they were all good people. Genna, Zoe, and Louisa were kind. They were loyal. They were honest, and they cared.
My mind leaped to Zach. What ingredients was he made of? If you had asked me six months ago, I would have said that he was made of all rotten things and, like, gum wrappers. Energy drinks. Saliva. Then, around the beginning of summer, I’d begun to change my mind. It seemed like he was made of mostly good ingredients, with a few snotty ones that still needed to be picked out and discarded. Or ignored.
Now? I had no idea, but I was tempted to return to my original assessment. It was all so confusing. Since I couldn’t fall asleep, I turned on the computer and checked all of the leader blogs. Master Baker had just posted an all-organic scone recipe that was getting a lot of comments. I made a note to myself to look for organic ingredients the next time I went shopping. SweetCakes had a very complicated recipe for biscotti posted. I was glad the contest was scones and not biscotti … that had to be baked twice! I saw that she didn’t have many comments at all. Unfortunately, she did have a lot of followers.
Zmoney: Attention Teashop Girl … your system has been breached by a double agent.
cuppaAnnie: ZACH! So you admit it. Spy.
I hadn’t realized my chat dot was green. The smart thing to do would’ve been to sign off. But I didn’t want to.
Zmoney: I admit nothing.
cuppaAnnie: What do you want, Zach?
Zmoney: I am at the Leaf right now, contaminating your ingredients. Just so you know.
cuppaAnnie:!!! Stop it!
Zmoney: LOL
I buckled my sandals. I had to go make sure everything was okay at the Leaf. It was one thing if Zach wanted to hang around and bother me … but I couldn’t have him pestering Louisa or getting into my stuff!
cuppaAnnie: Are you there or not?
Zmoney: Not.
cuppaAnnie: Fine. Can I ask you a question?
Zmoney: No.
cuppaAnnie: Why did you kiss me?
I held my breath. I’d wanted to ask him ever since it happened. But there was no way I could do it in person. It would be too weird. And besides, he’d probably just pretend he had no idea what I was talking about. Online, maybe we could have a real conversation. Maybe.
Zmoney: I have to go.
I stared at the computer screen, dismayed. Of course he had to go. His dot turned gray. I frowned and went back to reading scone blogs. There were so many helpful comments from readers. Maybe my readers could help too. I decided to post a poll to see what everyone’s favorite scone was so far.
After I finished my poll I was about to log off when I noticed Zach’s chat dot was green again. I know this is silly, but I wanted to talk to him, so I tried a different tack.
cuppaAnnie: My brother is trying to invent a sheet you put in the freezer.
Zmoney: Why?
cuppaAnnie: To stay cool while you’re sleeping.
Zmoney: Huh. That could work. If you used the same gel stuff they make ice packs out of. But if the layer of gel was too thin, it wouldn’t work, and if it was too thick, the thing would be too big for the freezer.
I smiled. Nothing like nerd talk to get Zach perked up. I wasn’t sure how to go from talking about weird inventions to asking if he planned to try to kiss me again, though. It turns out that talking isn’t really easier online after all.
cuppaAnnie: Yeah.
Zmoney: You know what else they should make sheets out of? Bubble wrap.
cuppaAnnie: Why?
Zmoney: It would be comfortable. And if you couldn’t sleep, you could pop it.
cuppaAnnie: I guess.
Zmoney: Don’t pretend you don’t love popping bubble wrap. And pimples!
cuppaAnnie: gross, Zach.
Zmoney: Wanna see something really gross? Search for “boil lancing” on YouTube.
cuppaAnnie: UGGGG. WHY DO I EVER TALK TO YOU?
Zmoney: What?
I rolled my e
yes at the computer and signed off. Having a conversation with Zach was even more frustrating than trying to talk my parents into getting me a cell phone. I decided to forget about him for a while and get back to what really mattered.
I considered Tom’s secret to making good bread. I certainly hadn’t felt much joy lately when I made my scones. I was so worried about SweetCakes and a spy at the Leaf that I didn’t want to share my creations with our customers. I didn’t even want to be around them, and usually the Leaf was my favorite spot on earth. Also, I was so focused on winning that I wasn’t making any time for Zoe or her quest. In fact, I hadn’t seen her in days. I tried to call her. Instead of reaching her, I heard “This is Zoe. Please leave me a message and I will call you back!” I took off my sandals and fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed about the contest. I kept trying to bake without any ingredients at all.
Dear readers,
I’m conducting a poll to find out which of my scones you like the best (or would like to try the most). Please vote!
Parmesan Berry
Chocolate Chip
Bacon
Cookies & Cream
Total Votes: 23
Days Left for Voting: 14
August 4 9:26 a.m.
Chapter Eighteen
Teapot is on, the cups are waiting. Favorite chairs anticipating. No matter what I have to do, my friend there’s always time for you.
—UNKNOWN
As soon as I woke up from my nap, I raced over to Zoe’s house. She wasn’t there, so I went home, got my bike out of the garage, and headed to her garden plot. As I pedaled, I thought about what I wanted to say. I felt I owed Zoe an apology. All summer she had been generously sharing her food and her time with me, coming into the Leaf almost every day. And when she had needed my help, I hadn’t made the time. Zoe was always so even, so easy to get along with. She would never make a fuss … but she shouldn’t have to. Zoe wasn’t there, either, so I tried the tennis court in Vilas Park. Finally, I spotted her. She was alone, practicing her serve. Whack! Whack! Her serve was dangerous.
The Secret Ingredient Page 9