Read Online No Reservations Required by Ellen Hart - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ellen Hart
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closer to Bram. “Try some.”
Bram dipped a piece of the sashimi in the sauce and took a bite. “It’s good. The fish is kind of chewy.”
“That’s because there’s no fat in it,” said Vince.
“What kind of fish is it?”
“Like we said, it was Bob’s favorite,” said Vince.
“But what kind is it?” Bram was getting a hinky feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Japanese,” said Lyle. “Actually, this one isn’t precisely Japanese, but it’s a hugely popular fish in Japan. A delicacy. In Tokyo alone, there are hundreds of restaurants that specialize in this dish—for those who can afford the price.”
Vince nodded. “Did I ever tell you that in my late twenties, I was trained as a chef in a Japanese restaurant? Big honor. They thought I had real talent. I used to go to the Haedomari Market in Shimonoseki every morning, where most of the country’s catch was sold. Boy, that was a trip.”
“No, you never told me,” said Bram, gazing warily at the plate. “You also haven’t given me the name of the fish.”
“It’s called fungu,” said Vince, pouring himself a glass of wine.
“Fungus?”
“No, fungu ,” said Lyle. “It’s a type of blowfish.”
“I thought blowfish were poisonous.”
“Some are,” said Lyle.
“But this one isn’t.”
“No,” said Vince. “It’s highly poisonous. That’s part of the allure. In Japan, fungu is the ultimate edible. In the wrong chef’s hands, this fish can kill you. It’s all in how you carve it up. See, the toxin starts by blocking nerve impulses, and then it quickly shuts down the entire nervous system. Death usually follows shortly thereafter. Kind of a horrific death, too, when you think about it. Lots of dizziness, nausea, stomach pain, then comes the convulsions and on and on. Actually, you know you’ve been poisoned when you feel a little numbness in your lips and the tip of your tongue.”
Bram was seized with dread. “How come you guys haven’t eaten any?”
“We were waiting to see if you had any reaction,” said Vince, casually sipping his wine.
Bram swallowed hard, then stared at them. “We’re being cautious,” said Lyle.
“Feel any tingling?” asked Vince.
“You guys are nuts!” said Bram.
“Millions of people eat this every year and never have a problem,” said Vince, scratching his bald head.
“Yup,” said Lyle. “I’ve eaten it dozens of times.”
“You have?” said Bram. Was that a tingle he felt in his upper lip?
“Sure. Here.” Vince took a big bite. “You passed the test, Baldric.”
Lyle lifted his shot glass. “You’re one of us now, pal. We die together, or we die alone.” He dropped one of the little rolls into his mouth. “We’ll expect to see you every Monday.”
“What’s on the menu next week?” asked Bram.
“Well,” said Vince, spreading a napkin in his lap, “we’re starting out with crudité and a peppery mealworm dip. And then the main course will be deep-fried field rat with rice pilaf and a hearty jellyfish salad. I think I might make some ground cricket sugar cookies if I get the time.”
“Oh, I love those,” said Lyle, stifling a burp.
Bram glanced at his watch. “I, ah—” He pushed away from the table and got up. “I’ll have to think about it. I better go now. My daughter will be wondering what happened to me.”
“Remember,” said Lyle, smiling up at him. “No reservations required. Come to think of it, that exactly sums up my philosophy of life. How about you, Vince?”
“Oh, yeah. Those are definitely words to live by.”
11
Sophie closed the grill cover so she wouldn’t have to look at the burnt salmon. “Nathan, you promised you’d never call me at home. We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Just hear me out, okay?”
Sophie could tell he was smoking. He’d stopped years ago, but now that he was dating Elaine Veelund, one of Sophie’s oldest friends, he’d started again. “And you can’t just drop by the hotel. You
Bram dipped a piece of the sashimi in the sauce and took a bite. “It’s good. The fish is kind of chewy.”
“That’s because there’s no fat in it,” said Vince.
“What kind of fish is it?”
“Like we said, it was Bob’s favorite,” said Vince.
“But what kind is it?” Bram was getting a hinky feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Japanese,” said Lyle. “Actually, this one isn’t precisely Japanese, but it’s a hugely popular fish in Japan. A delicacy. In Tokyo alone, there are hundreds of restaurants that specialize in this dish—for those who can afford the price.”
Vince nodded. “Did I ever tell you that in my late twenties, I was trained as a chef in a Japanese restaurant? Big honor. They thought I had real talent. I used to go to the Haedomari Market in Shimonoseki every morning, where most of the country’s catch was sold. Boy, that was a trip.”
“No, you never told me,” said Bram, gazing warily at the plate. “You also haven’t given me the name of the fish.”
“It’s called fungu,” said Vince, pouring himself a glass of wine.
“Fungus?”
“No, fungu ,” said Lyle. “It’s a type of blowfish.”
“I thought blowfish were poisonous.”
“Some are,” said Lyle.
“But this one isn’t.”
“No,” said Vince. “It’s highly poisonous. That’s part of the allure. In Japan, fungu is the ultimate edible. In the wrong chef’s hands, this fish can kill you. It’s all in how you carve it up. See, the toxin starts by blocking nerve impulses, and then it quickly shuts down the entire nervous system. Death usually follows shortly thereafter. Kind of a horrific death, too, when you think about it. Lots of dizziness, nausea, stomach pain, then comes the convulsions and on and on. Actually, you know you’ve been poisoned when you feel a little numbness in your lips and the tip of your tongue.”
Bram was seized with dread. “How come you guys haven’t eaten any?”
“We were waiting to see if you had any reaction,” said Vince, casually sipping his wine.
Bram swallowed hard, then stared at them. “We’re being cautious,” said Lyle.
“Feel any tingling?” asked Vince.
“You guys are nuts!” said Bram.
“Millions of people eat this every year and never have a problem,” said Vince, scratching his bald head.
“Yup,” said Lyle. “I’ve eaten it dozens of times.”
“You have?” said Bram. Was that a tingle he felt in his upper lip?
“Sure. Here.” Vince took a big bite. “You passed the test, Baldric.”
Lyle lifted his shot glass. “You’re one of us now, pal. We die together, or we die alone.” He dropped one of the little rolls into his mouth. “We’ll expect to see you every Monday.”
“What’s on the menu next week?” asked Bram.
“Well,” said Vince, spreading a napkin in his lap, “we’re starting out with crudité and a peppery mealworm dip. And then the main course will be deep-fried field rat with rice pilaf and a hearty jellyfish salad. I think I might make some ground cricket sugar cookies if I get the time.”
“Oh, I love those,” said Lyle, stifling a burp.
Bram glanced at his watch. “I, ah—” He pushed away from the table and got up. “I’ll have to think about it. I better go now. My daughter will be wondering what happened to me.”
“Remember,” said Lyle, smiling up at him. “No reservations required. Come to think of it, that exactly sums up my philosophy of life. How about you, Vince?”
“Oh, yeah. Those are definitely words to live by.”
11
Sophie closed the grill cover so she wouldn’t have to look at the burnt salmon. “Nathan, you promised you’d never call me at home. We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Just hear me out, okay?”
Sophie could tell he was smoking. He’d stopped years ago, but now that he was dating Elaine Veelund, one of Sophie’s oldest friends, he’d started again. “And you can’t just drop by the hotel. You
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