The Witch Who Tasted Murder (Pixie Point Bay Book 5): A Cozy Witch Mystery by Emma Belmont

Author:Emma Belmont [Belmont, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-03T16:00:00+00:00

15

As Cookie rinsed, Maris loaded the dishwasher.

“Another smash hit buffet,” Maris told the chef. “And that was nice of you to put out Delia’s hot sauces.”

“I think they were a nice compliment,” Cookie said. “And that was very generous of Charlie.” She passed Maris a plate. “The other guests seemed very excited about some tasting tips.”

Maris slotted the plate into a spot next to some others. “It was,” she agreed, but couldn’t help but frown. “I think it’s going to be…fun.”

Cookie eyed her. “You say ‘fun’ like you’re going to have a front row seat at a medieval inquisition for witches.”

Maris grimaced a bit. “No, I think it’ll be fun for the guests.”

The diminutive chef handed her the forks. “But not for you.”

“It’s not that it won’t be fun,” Maris said quickly, but stopped herself. She loaded the utensils and put her damp hands on her hips. “You know what it is?” Cookie was about to hand her a serving spoon but paused. “It’s the fact that he’s a wine expert—and I’m not.”

Cookie waved the serving spoon as though she could move aside Maris’s doubt. “Tosh. It’s just for an evening. Let him be the expert. You’re the host, and a very good one at that.” She gestured around the kitchen. “This isn’t a winery, and people don’t stay here for wine tastings. They’re here for hospitality.” She handed Maris the serving spoon. “They’re here for comfort and relaxation. Giving that to them is our job.”

As Maris resumed loading the dishwasher, they were both quiet for some time. She thought of the many hundreds of Wine Downs she’d hosted over the decades. She’d never studied wine, just followed her instincts. But having an expert look over your shoulder…

“You’ve never seen my red velvet crepes,” Cookie said.

Maris blinked at her. “I’m sorry. Your what?” She took the rinsed bowl that the chef offered to her.

“My red velvet crepes filled with strawberries, sour cream, cardamon, and ginger.”

“Wow,” Maris said, holding the bowl. “No, I think I’d remember.”

Cookie nodded. “I think you would. But there’s a reason I don’t make them any more.”

They sounded amazing, and probably looked it too. “Why not?” Maris loaded the bowl, filling the dishwasher to capacity.

“Because I made them to impress people, to show off. Do you know that there’s a theme my buffets follow now?”

Maris thought back, not only on this morning’s offerings, but the various breakfasts over the last number of months. For the life of her, though, she couldn’t see a common denominator.

“Comfort food,” Cookie said, drying off her hands. “Good ingredients, made well. Nothing flashy. Just tasty and filling. Because it’s not about me. It’s about our guests.”

Maris smiled at the older woman. It had never occurred to her that Cookie would, of course, be capable of all kinds of meals. There were certainly hints of it in the buffet from time to time. But the food was mostly on the simple side, and what people away from home might appreciate to start their day.

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