INVITATION TO DESTINY

Chapter 7.   What's a Marinade?

[Chapter 8 will be available on February 1, 2015]

Lucy ignored Jack's outburst about Wilhelm, his brother-in-law. She looked at Vanessa, said, “Good luck,” and left the kitchen.

     Jack turned to Vanessa and gave her a tight smile. “Are you ready to win the Lavender Recipe Contest?”

     Vanessa stuttered, “I..I..don't think so. I don't know how to cook.”  She was afraid she was going to look like a fool.

     “Don't worry, all you need to do is learn to prepare one dish perfectly. I think you're smart enough to follow my precise directions, n'cest ce pas?”

      Vanessa bristled. “I'm not dumb, if that's what you're implying.”

      Jack rolled his eyes. “Maybe not, but you seem a little defensive.” He tossed her a huge white apron and instructed her to wrap it around herself and tie the strings across her front. “Today, you will learn to measure accurately.”

      “I know how to measure,” she seethed.

      “Ah, but the key word, is accurately.”

      “Oui, avec précision. I may not be fluent in French but I'm not a complete idiot.”

      Jack nodded and said, “Of course not. Let me explain. Measurements in French recipes are given in grams and liters, not ounces and pounds. And I'm sure you already know to use glass measuring cups for liquids so you can see when the ingredient reaches the appropriate level and various sized cups for solid ingredients, like flour, so you can level off the top.”

      Vanessa calmed herself by remembering the beautiful room she was staying in, rent free, and the wonderful meals she had been eating, also free. She thought she could put up with Jack's boorish behavior to repay Michelle's hospitality. She also knew her mother was counting on her to help out her friend.

      After three hot and aggravating hours in the ancient but well appointed kitchen learning kitchen basics from an egomaniacal chef, Vanessa was ready for a bath and rest before dinner. At least during the lessons she hadn't had time to worry about Charlie and the man who was coming to see the dog.

      She sank blissfully into the lemon scented water of the enormous tub. She was glad she'd found there were bath products with scents other than lavender. She didn't want to end up hating one of her favorite flowers from over saturation. The warm water relaxed her body, but her ever churning mind went over the strange phone conversation.

      Now that this Jacob Lay, Mr. Carr's so-called heir, had her address would he actually come to France to take Charlie away from her? Well, she decided, he better have a lot of proof if he expected her to hand him the darling little dog.

      Vanessa looked over at the white bundle of fur lying on the lavender colored bath rug next to her bath. Charlie sensed she was looking at him, lifted his head to see her better and gave a happy yip. Her heart melted. No, Mr. Lay was not getting Charlie without a fight.

      Jack wasn't at the dinner table that night. He was probably fussing away in the kitchen as usual. Vanessa was glad because she wanted to talk to Lucy about the lavender contest.

      As the rest of the table talked rapidly in French, Vanessa leaned over and whispered to Lucy, “Jack won't tell me anything about the recipe I'm supposed to cook at this contest.”

     Lucy smiled. “Don't worry. Jack is a perfectionist where food is concerned. He is probably forcing you to repeat over and over basic cooking techniques, oui?”

      “Oui, indeed. He had me smashing garlic cloves, black peppercorns, and allspice berries. I think I could now smash them in my sleep.”

      “They sound like the ingredients for a very interesting sauce.” Lucy mused.

      “But he's said nothing about lavender, and I thought that was the whole point of the contest.” I protested which was hard to do as I savored the most delicately flavored duck breast in my life. Jack was definitely an excellent chef.

      Lucy shrugged, a very typical French gesture I think babies learn in their bassinets. “Remember this is a serious competition for our company and for Jacques. He doesn't want anyone finding out what our recipe will be until the day of the competition. You may find yourself learning bits and pieces of the recipe, until he trusts you enough with all of it.”

      Vanessa gave up. “Well at some point, I will have to do the entire recipe. There's no way I can put together bits and pieces and have the whole thing come out right without practice.”

      “Don't worry, there's no way he will let you fail.”

      Vanessa hoped she was right. She had planned to tell Lucy her worries that Jacob Lay might come to claim Charlie. But she didn't want to pester her friend with her problems. And why on earth would someone waste time and money to come to France, just to see a dog.

      The next morning, Vanessa met with Jack after breakfast. He said he wanted to practice with her twice a day. This morning, he would show her the proper way to peel and slice ginger, so she could do it perfectly without thinking about it. In the afternoon, she would learn to choose the ripest figs and to prepare them by placing a skin deep x on the flower end of each one.

      Jack explained, “Some of the techniques you are learning are not procedures you will do at the actual competition. The recipes may include steps that must be done a day ahead of time and then refrigerated in secured storage. However, you and all the other contestants will be required to perform any preparation work at the contest location and in the presence of the judges. That is why you must practice and practice. You must demonstrate familiarity with the recipe as if you developed it yourself.”

      Vanessa felt uneasy. “But I didn't develop the recipe. Is that a contest requirement? I don't want to do anything dishonest.”

      “Non, no. It is not a requirement. It just must be original and be cooked by someone not a member of the company. The most important requirement is that the lavender used must be grown on the farm of the contestant company. The day before the actual contest, lavender will be collected from each participant's store house to make sure there are no substitutions.”

      “It sounds very complicated to me.” Vanessa frowned. “Are you sure I can do this?”

      “Don't worry. Let me do the worrying.” Jack gave her a rare smile. “As long as you practice and do exactly as I say.”

      Before she left her afternoon session with Jack, she was surprised by a compliment. “Bon, you are doing well. We progress. Tomorrow, you will put together the sauce and marinade.”

      Vanessa knew it was silly, but she felt a warm glow from his unexpected praise. Of course, tomorrow might be a disaster. She had never made a sauce, other than to pour bottled chocolate sauce over ice cream, and as for marinade, forget it. She didn't even know what a marinade was.

      Outside the kitchen, she met Edmund. He had Charlie on his leash and from the way the little dog frisked around his feet, they were on their way outside.

      Vanessa reached for the lead. “Oh, let me take him. I've hardly seen Charlie since I started cooking lessons.” She knelt down to give the fluffy dog a hug, which was hard to do since he was wiggling with happiness to see her.

      Keeping up with Charlie on their walk around the grounds revived Vanessa's spirits. A brisk gait stretched and relaxed her muscles, cramped from anxiously following Jacques' precise instructions. She never saw any of the family on these walks, but they probably all had jobs that kept them busy, even in this slow time of year for lavender farms. And of course, late fall was when the lavender based products would be prepared for spring and summer consumption.

       They were approaching the fountain courtyard, when Wilhelm marched across it from his strange looking Citroen sedan to the chateau's front entrance. Lucy had told her the car was considered a French classic and had been inherited along with the house. But its sharp, pointed front looked like the prow of a speed boat to Vanessa. Maybe it made owners feel like they were flying over the waves on a carefree yacht. Wilhelm didn't look very carefree. His jaw jutted out and he didn't notice her which was fine since she still didn't know why Jack had the argument with him.

      To avoid Wilhelm, she turned Charlie around so they could go in the garden entrance. As she walked towards the staircase to go up to her room, Edmund intercepted her. He frowned and his lips were tight as he informed her that she had received a telephone message. “A Mr. Jacob Lay says he just flew into Nice and will be driving here tomorrow to see Charlie. I asked if you were expecting him and he said 'it didn't matter, what you were expecting.' ” Edmund sniffed and looked down at her.

      Vanessa's heart beat a rapid tattoo. The cost of a last minute international flight must be astronomical. Why would anyone be in that much of a rush to see a dog?

To be continued on February 1, 2015