Prime Cut by Diane Mott Davidson Page A
Authors: Diane Mott Davidson
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous stories, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Detective and Mystery Stories, Mystery Fiction, Women Detectives, Cooking, Murder, Colorado, Caterers and Catering, Cookery, Bear; Goldy (Fictitious Character), Women in the Food Industry
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given me. Julian put the potatoes in to bake, finished trimming the other vegetables, and set the table. While the rolls rose, I seared the chops and swirled in Dijon mustard with melted currant jelly for a sauce. Julian scooped out the baked potatoes, whipped the steaming mass with cream, Parmesan, salt, and white pepper, refilled the skins, and placed the delicious-looking concoctions back into the oven to puff to a golden brown. While he was cleaning up, I told him about the previous day's modeling shoot, working with Andre, finding Gerald Eliot's body, and the arrest of Arch's and my old friend, Cameron Burr. Cameron was now sitting in jail while his wife labored to breathe. Julian frowned. Perhaps thinking of Cameron, he dubbed his dish Jailbreak Potatoes.
Jailbreak Potatoes
4 'large baking potatoes
2 tablespoons (¬ stick) unsalted butter
« cup whipping cream
« teaspoon salt
¬ teaspoon or more white pepper
« cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat the oven to 400øF.
Scrub and prick each potato 3 or 4 times with a fork. Bake the potatoes for 1 hour, or until flaky. Remove from the oven and cool slightly.
In the large bowl of an electric mixer, place the butter, cream, salt, pepper, and cheese. Using a sharp knife, cut at a 45-degree angle to remove an oval of skin and potato the flat top side of each potato. Using a spoon, scoop most of the, potato out of the interior into the bowl with the other ingredients. Leave a thin layer of potato inside the skin. Scrape the potato from the back of the removed ovals of potato skin into the bowl.
Using the whip attachment, whip the potato mixture until smooth. Taste and correct the seasoning.
Dividing the whipped potato mixture evenly, spoon it back into the skins. Place the stuffed potatoes on a buttered, rimmed baking sheet and bake an additional 15 minutes, or until the filling is thoroughly heated.
Makes 4 servings
Just after six o'clock, the three meat-eaters dug into the tender chops, while all of us dove into the rich, tangy potatoes and magnificent array of fresh asparagus, leek, tomatoes, and corn braised in white wine and broth. We smeared butter on the feather-light, golden-brown rolls, ate, and talked about Arch's upcoming school year and how long it would be before Tom could be cleared.
We avoided mention of Cameron Burr. We also skirted the subject of Julian dropping out of college. As his self-appointed aunt-cum-godmother, this move of his did bother me. No matter how gifted a person was at cooking or anything else, a well-rounded education would help him navigate through life. But this was not' the time for parental advice. Julian was a very intelligent, very good kid. I trusted him. If he didn't make a move to go back to school within six months, we'd have a heart-to-heart. For the moment, even under the clouds of Cameron's arrest and Tom's suspension, we could concentrate on enjoying a long-delayed family reunion.
When the dishes were done, Julian ordered Tom, Arch, and me to sit on the back deck while he put together a dessert tray. The sun slipped slowly behind enormous, salmon-colored clouds that hovered over the mountains' silhouette. With a flourish, Julian produced a tray of his trademark fudge, a dark, impossibly luscious concoction dotted with sun-dried cherries. I closed my eyes, bit into the velvety chocolate, and allowed happiness to infuse my senses. The smooth, silky combination of bittersweet and milk chocolate combined with tart, chewy cherries and crunchy, toasted hazelnuts made my spine tingle. My kitchen was a mess, my bookings were down, a friend of ours had been arrested, my husband was suspended. But there was tomorrow, I reminded myself. If Scarlett O'Hara could look to better times, why couldn't I? Plus, Scarlett hadn't had her spirits bolstered by Julian Teller's company - not to mention his
Jailbreak Potatoes
4 'large baking potatoes
2 tablespoons (¬ stick) unsalted butter
« cup whipping cream
« teaspoon salt
¬ teaspoon or more white pepper
« cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat the oven to 400øF.
Scrub and prick each potato 3 or 4 times with a fork. Bake the potatoes for 1 hour, or until flaky. Remove from the oven and cool slightly.
In the large bowl of an electric mixer, place the butter, cream, salt, pepper, and cheese. Using a sharp knife, cut at a 45-degree angle to remove an oval of skin and potato the flat top side of each potato. Using a spoon, scoop most of the, potato out of the interior into the bowl with the other ingredients. Leave a thin layer of potato inside the skin. Scrape the potato from the back of the removed ovals of potato skin into the bowl.
Using the whip attachment, whip the potato mixture until smooth. Taste and correct the seasoning.
Dividing the whipped potato mixture evenly, spoon it back into the skins. Place the stuffed potatoes on a buttered, rimmed baking sheet and bake an additional 15 minutes, or until the filling is thoroughly heated.
Makes 4 servings
Just after six o'clock, the three meat-eaters dug into the tender chops, while all of us dove into the rich, tangy potatoes and magnificent array of fresh asparagus, leek, tomatoes, and corn braised in white wine and broth. We smeared butter on the feather-light, golden-brown rolls, ate, and talked about Arch's upcoming school year and how long it would be before Tom could be cleared.
We avoided mention of Cameron Burr. We also skirted the subject of Julian dropping out of college. As his self-appointed aunt-cum-godmother, this move of his did bother me. No matter how gifted a person was at cooking or anything else, a well-rounded education would help him navigate through life. But this was not' the time for parental advice. Julian was a very intelligent, very good kid. I trusted him. If he didn't make a move to go back to school within six months, we'd have a heart-to-heart. For the moment, even under the clouds of Cameron's arrest and Tom's suspension, we could concentrate on enjoying a long-delayed family reunion.
When the dishes were done, Julian ordered Tom, Arch, and me to sit on the back deck while he put together a dessert tray. The sun slipped slowly behind enormous, salmon-colored clouds that hovered over the mountains' silhouette. With a flourish, Julian produced a tray of his trademark fudge, a dark, impossibly luscious concoction dotted with sun-dried cherries. I closed my eyes, bit into the velvety chocolate, and allowed happiness to infuse my senses. The smooth, silky combination of bittersweet and milk chocolate combined with tart, chewy cherries and crunchy, toasted hazelnuts made my spine tingle. My kitchen was a mess, my bookings were down, a friend of ours had been arrested, my husband was suspended. But there was tomorrow, I reminded myself. If Scarlett O'Hara could look to better times, why couldn't I? Plus, Scarlett hadn't had her spirits bolstered by Julian Teller's company - not to mention his
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