A Catered Christmas: A Mystery With Recipes by Isis Crawford

Author:Isis Crawford [Crawford, Isis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths
ISBN: 9780758269140
Google: iMew2FzHKVoC
Amazon: 0758206887
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2006-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Libby tried to focus on Eric as she found herself wondering what Hortense would think of Eric’s performance. Not much, she was willing to wager. Whatever you could say about Hortense, she’d had presence. Which Eric did not. She turned her attention back to him.

“Venison was a staple of our forebears,” Eric was saying. “Many people still make use of it today in this world of prepackaged food. It is also known as deer meat, although the term is sometimes applied to elk, moose, buffalo, and caribou as well.

“The game we are using comes from the white-tailed or Virginian deer, the species most commonly hunted in the United States.” Eric drew a breath and continued. “Deer has always played an important role in the human diet, as archaeological evidence shows. In fact, in many societies it has been the primary protein source.”

Libby looked at Eric. He was still reading off the teleprompter, still giving everyone a lecture on deer as a food source. The lecture sounded just like one of Bernie’s, Libby couldn’t help thinking. The way he was talking made it sound as if everyone ate the stuff. But she’d never cooked venison in her life, let alone eaten it, and she was willing to wager her sister hadn’t either.

Eating Bambi just wasn’t an appetizing idea to either one of them. She remembered when her father had gotten some venison steaks from Clyde, and her mother had refused to let him bring them in the house.

“It’s barbaric,” her mother had said.

“It’s life,” her father had replied.

“Not in my kitchen it isn’t,” her mother had retorted, and that had been that.

Libby’s only consolation was that Reginald Palmer wasn’t looking too happy at this moment. Maybe he didn’t know much about cooking game either. That gave her a little hope. Not much, but a little.

She’d thought that Eric would choose something like partridge or quail or wild turkey or even that old chestnut, a goose. She thought he’d choose something Christmasy. Or literary like Hortense would have done. Maybe something out of The Twelve Days of Christmas. Something like a partridge for a partridge in a pear tree. Or a goose out of Dickens’ Christmas Carol. She’d been ready for those. She wasn’t ready for Little House on the Prairie.

As she and Bernie moved to their cooking station, Libby’s mind was whirling, trying to remember what she knew about venison. Libby turned to her sister. She was about to say, “Tell me you’ve cooked this before,” when she remembered they were miked. She coughed instead.

Bernie looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Libby nodded toward the mike. Bernie covered hers up. Libby did the same.

“What do you know about venison?” she whispered.

“It has no fat,” Bernie told her.

Libby noticed she was being careful to keep her voice down too.

“Which means it gets tough.”

Libby was just about to add something about the meat getting dry when she realized that Eric was walking in their direction. Great, she thought as he reached them.

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