Read Online Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch - Free Book Online Page B
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money changed hands, and she mouth-read Paul’s directions for the purchase to be delivered to the restaurant.
“Not quite…” he said apologetically. He explained that, when it was first opened, the market had only been for fish, but now there were fruits and vegetables too.
“The fu-…uhm… stupid ,” he corrected himself before swearing in front of Tad again, “ sous chef didn’t fill our vegetable order this morning, so I have to go and see if there’s anything decent left. I promise it won’t take long! I just need some eggplant and zucchini…and salad greens…and tomatoes…and cherries and….er…” He looked sheepish. “Actually, why don’t you and Tad go to the café? They have some muffins and stuff that is decent.” He handed Bridget some money. “I’ll catch up with you both in a bit.”
Tad was heartbroken to be abandoned, although Bridget understood why it was done. She tried to console him with a chocolate donut and the bubble-popping game on her mobile phone until his father returned.
Paul actually didn’t take as much time as she expected. Tad was having his face wiped clean of frosting when the chef poked his head inside the café.
“All ready to go?” he asked.
Bridget nodded, but Tad began to shake his head. “Not yet! Oh, please D addy! Can’t I see the fish up close?”
Bridget was sure that Paul was going to say “no” and had already started gently letting down Tad’s hopes, “Daddy is very busy , darling, he has to go into work…”
Paul surprised her again.
“Just for a little while…” he said, and led them back onto the market floor.
The main corridors of the hall were so busy that Tad risked being trampled . Paul’s arms were full of packages now, so he couldn’t carry the child, but Paul quickly led them off into a quiet side hall where Tad could stare goggle - eyed at crustaceans crawling over one another in tanks, eels wriggling in barrels, and giant shark carcasses dangling from hooks.
“What’s that , D addy?” Tad asked, jabbing his chubby finger at a pile of silvery fish so fresh that they were still oozing blood onto their beds of crushed ice.
“Mackerel…” he said, “And those are plaice…sea bream…trout…”
Bridget was interested in what Paul had to say- and also amazed with his patience as he explained, not only what things were , but how they were served.
“We use that mainly in soup…” he said, picking up the limp tendril of an octopus arm to let Tad touch it.
“Do you cook the sucker parts?” Tad asked, fascinated. He actually listened to Paul’s explanation before moving on to gawk at salted anchovies and then packets of fresh smoked kippers.
“Oooh! We eat those at home, Tad!” Bridget exclaimed, pleased to have something to add to the conversation.
“Would you like to try them?” Paul asked his son, and then handed over some cash.
By the time they left the market, they had purchased nearly as much for themselves as for the restaurant, or so it seemed to Bridget. She didn’t see how they were ever going to have time to prepare all of the little morsels that Paul had promised to let Tad try before everything spoiled, but she held her tongue. She was really pleased that Paul had found a way to connect with his son- even if it did make her jealous.
“Are we REALLY going to eat shark, D addy?” Tad asked as they rode back into Manhattan. He didn’t wait for his father to answer. Instead, he turned to the nanny. “Did you see that man chop up the shark? It was a real shark , N anny!”
“I know!” Bridget said, making sure that she sounded impressed. “I can’t wait until D addy has lunchtime off so he can cook it at home!”
“Actually,” Paul said, looking thoughtful, “We could have it today.”
Bridget arched a brow, trying not to get too hopeful. “Oh? I thought you had to go in…”
“I do,” Paul told her, “But we don’t have lunch service on a Tuesday. The guys are just doing
“Not quite…” he said apologetically. He explained that, when it was first opened, the market had only been for fish, but now there were fruits and vegetables too.
“The fu-…uhm… stupid ,” he corrected himself before swearing in front of Tad again, “ sous chef didn’t fill our vegetable order this morning, so I have to go and see if there’s anything decent left. I promise it won’t take long! I just need some eggplant and zucchini…and salad greens…and tomatoes…and cherries and….er…” He looked sheepish. “Actually, why don’t you and Tad go to the café? They have some muffins and stuff that is decent.” He handed Bridget some money. “I’ll catch up with you both in a bit.”
Tad was heartbroken to be abandoned, although Bridget understood why it was done. She tried to console him with a chocolate donut and the bubble-popping game on her mobile phone until his father returned.
Paul actually didn’t take as much time as she expected. Tad was having his face wiped clean of frosting when the chef poked his head inside the café.
“All ready to go?” he asked.
Bridget nodded, but Tad began to shake his head. “Not yet! Oh, please D addy! Can’t I see the fish up close?”
Bridget was sure that Paul was going to say “no” and had already started gently letting down Tad’s hopes, “Daddy is very busy , darling, he has to go into work…”
Paul surprised her again.
“Just for a little while…” he said, and led them back onto the market floor.
The main corridors of the hall were so busy that Tad risked being trampled . Paul’s arms were full of packages now, so he couldn’t carry the child, but Paul quickly led them off into a quiet side hall where Tad could stare goggle - eyed at crustaceans crawling over one another in tanks, eels wriggling in barrels, and giant shark carcasses dangling from hooks.
“What’s that , D addy?” Tad asked, jabbing his chubby finger at a pile of silvery fish so fresh that they were still oozing blood onto their beds of crushed ice.
“Mackerel…” he said, “And those are plaice…sea bream…trout…”
Bridget was interested in what Paul had to say- and also amazed with his patience as he explained, not only what things were , but how they were served.
“We use that mainly in soup…” he said, picking up the limp tendril of an octopus arm to let Tad touch it.
“Do you cook the sucker parts?” Tad asked, fascinated. He actually listened to Paul’s explanation before moving on to gawk at salted anchovies and then packets of fresh smoked kippers.
“Oooh! We eat those at home, Tad!” Bridget exclaimed, pleased to have something to add to the conversation.
“Would you like to try them?” Paul asked his son, and then handed over some cash.
By the time they left the market, they had purchased nearly as much for themselves as for the restaurant, or so it seemed to Bridget. She didn’t see how they were ever going to have time to prepare all of the little morsels that Paul had promised to let Tad try before everything spoiled, but she held her tongue. She was really pleased that Paul had found a way to connect with his son- even if it did make her jealous.
“Are we REALLY going to eat shark, D addy?” Tad asked as they rode back into Manhattan. He didn’t wait for his father to answer. Instead, he turned to the nanny. “Did you see that man chop up the shark? It was a real shark , N anny!”
“I know!” Bridget said, making sure that she sounded impressed. “I can’t wait until D addy has lunchtime off so he can cook it at home!”
“Actually,” Paul said, looking thoughtful, “We could have it today.”
Bridget arched a brow, trying not to get too hopeful. “Oh? I thought you had to go in…”
“I do,” Paul told her, “But we don’t have lunch service on a Tuesday. The guys are just doing
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