Read Online On Thin Icing by Ellie Alexander - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellie Alexander
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changed the subject. After a few minutes I removed another ramekin from the oven. The vanilla scent of the warm pudding was heavenly. The top of the pudding had crisped to a light brown color. That was a good sign. Now for the moment of truth. I carefully tested it with a fork. I squinted as I pulled the fork from the center. It came out clean. Whew. I removed the rest of the puddings, thankful that this was our last item of the evening.
If the pudding tasted as good as it looked and smelled, Lance’s guests should return to their cabins with happy bellies. Carlos and Sterling delivered the toppings to the guests while I carefully placed the puddings in front of each guest, with a stern warning not to touch the side of the ramekins.
“Impeccable timing, darling,” Lance whispered as I set a steaming bread pudding on his plate. “Any chance you have some coffee on back there?”
Coffee. Shoot. I’d totally forgotten to start coffee with the scuffle between Carlos and Tony. “No, but I’ll get right on it,” I replied.
Sterling removed the dinner dishes. I hurried to grind beans. There’s no comparison to using fresh ground beans in my opinion. We store our beans in airtight containers at Torte. When a customer places an order for coffee, they know they are getting the absolute freshest experience.
Carlos poked at the fire as I dumped beans into the grinder. A fruity chocolate aroma filled the room. I found myself acutely aware of my posture as I poured water into the coffee maker and added the coffee grounds. I could feel Carlos’s eyes on my back as I moved through the kitchen. If I had known he was coming I would have put a little more thought into what I was wearing.
The coffeepot hummed to life. I could use a cup of the rich brew right now, I thought. Sterling filled the sink with hot soapy water and rinsed the dishes. Fortunately the kitchen had a large industrial dishwasher. We’d need all the dishes for breakfast. I had a feeling the next two days were going to be a constant cycle of bake—serve—wash—repeat.
“You want me to run this yet?” Sterling asked as he loaded the last plate into the dishwasher.
“Is there enough room for the ramekins?” I asked, stacking coffee cups on the counter. The coffee was almost finished. I filled one of the mugs with water and stuck it in the microwave. Mom says that I’m a coffee snob. I say I have a ritual when it comes to drinking java. My ritual always begins with a warm mug. It makes a difference, trust me.
“I think I can squeeze them in the top.” Sterling rearranged the wine glasses.
Carlos had successfully tamped down the fire. The blackened wood burned low, a sign that the evening was officially winding down.
The microwave beeped.
“I believe this is for you.” Carlos removed my mug, dumped the hot water in the sink, and poured exactly the right amount of cream into the bottom of the cup.
“Thanks.” I poured the dark coffee over the cream. It stirred together into a delicious walnut color. I indulged in a taste before I sent Sterling to the dining room with the coffee service.
The rest of cleanup was a breeze. Sterling was an efficient worker. He had the counters wiped down and the pots scrubbed before the guests had finished dessert. Lance popped into the kitchen on his way out.
“As always, everything was absolutely divine, darling.” He blew air kisses in my direction. Then he turned and gave a little bow to Carlos. “And you, dear boy, are the most exciting thing to happen around these parts in years. We will have to have a little tête-à-tête in the morning. Until then, keep icing that bruise and sleep tight!”
Sterling finished clearing the dessert plates, and started the dishes. I served the three of us leftovers. We gathered around the island and devoured a late-night dinner. That’s the way it goes in a professional kitchen, chefs eat last. I practically inhaled my food. I couldn’t believe how famished I was.
If the pudding tasted as good as it looked and smelled, Lance’s guests should return to their cabins with happy bellies. Carlos and Sterling delivered the toppings to the guests while I carefully placed the puddings in front of each guest, with a stern warning not to touch the side of the ramekins.
“Impeccable timing, darling,” Lance whispered as I set a steaming bread pudding on his plate. “Any chance you have some coffee on back there?”
Coffee. Shoot. I’d totally forgotten to start coffee with the scuffle between Carlos and Tony. “No, but I’ll get right on it,” I replied.
Sterling removed the dinner dishes. I hurried to grind beans. There’s no comparison to using fresh ground beans in my opinion. We store our beans in airtight containers at Torte. When a customer places an order for coffee, they know they are getting the absolute freshest experience.
Carlos poked at the fire as I dumped beans into the grinder. A fruity chocolate aroma filled the room. I found myself acutely aware of my posture as I poured water into the coffee maker and added the coffee grounds. I could feel Carlos’s eyes on my back as I moved through the kitchen. If I had known he was coming I would have put a little more thought into what I was wearing.
The coffeepot hummed to life. I could use a cup of the rich brew right now, I thought. Sterling filled the sink with hot soapy water and rinsed the dishes. Fortunately the kitchen had a large industrial dishwasher. We’d need all the dishes for breakfast. I had a feeling the next two days were going to be a constant cycle of bake—serve—wash—repeat.
“You want me to run this yet?” Sterling asked as he loaded the last plate into the dishwasher.
“Is there enough room for the ramekins?” I asked, stacking coffee cups on the counter. The coffee was almost finished. I filled one of the mugs with water and stuck it in the microwave. Mom says that I’m a coffee snob. I say I have a ritual when it comes to drinking java. My ritual always begins with a warm mug. It makes a difference, trust me.
“I think I can squeeze them in the top.” Sterling rearranged the wine glasses.
Carlos had successfully tamped down the fire. The blackened wood burned low, a sign that the evening was officially winding down.
The microwave beeped.
“I believe this is for you.” Carlos removed my mug, dumped the hot water in the sink, and poured exactly the right amount of cream into the bottom of the cup.
“Thanks.” I poured the dark coffee over the cream. It stirred together into a delicious walnut color. I indulged in a taste before I sent Sterling to the dining room with the coffee service.
The rest of cleanup was a breeze. Sterling was an efficient worker. He had the counters wiped down and the pots scrubbed before the guests had finished dessert. Lance popped into the kitchen on his way out.
“As always, everything was absolutely divine, darling.” He blew air kisses in my direction. Then he turned and gave a little bow to Carlos. “And you, dear boy, are the most exciting thing to happen around these parts in years. We will have to have a little tête-à-tête in the morning. Until then, keep icing that bruise and sleep tight!”
Sterling finished clearing the dessert plates, and started the dishes. I served the three of us leftovers. We gathered around the island and devoured a late-night dinner. That’s the way it goes in a professional kitchen, chefs eat last. I practically inhaled my food. I couldn’t believe how famished I was.
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