Chapter Six
“What’ll it be, Hannah?” Florence stood behind the meat counter with a little white cap perched on her head. It reminded Hannah of the doilies her great-grandmother had used on the candle stands of the old pump organ that had stood in her parlor. “I’ve got a really nice pork roast.”
“It looks wonderful, but I don’t have time to cook it. Mike’s coming over at six for dinner.”
“Does Norman know that?”
Hannah bit back a sharp retort and reminded herself that in a town the size of Lake Eden, everybody knew everybody else’s business. “I don’t know if he does or not.” And then, because she was tired from her long day and more than a bit out of sorts, she zinged one in. “I guess you like dentists more than cops right now, right?”
Florence just looked at her for a moment, and then she started to laugh. “You nailed that, Hannah! I’m partial to Norman right now because he replaced one of my fillings for free.”
“So if you’d been robbed and Mike had recovered the money, you would have been partial to him?” Hannah pressed her point.
“Maybe so. In fact, I’m almost sure of it. And I guess that means they’re interchangeable?”
“Not interchangeable, but equal. You like them equally and you can’t choose between them in the big picture.”
“You’re right. But in the small picture, they keep bobbing up and down. One’s on top on one day, and the other’s on top on the next day.” Florence stopped speaking and gave Hannah an assessing look. “Is that how you feel about them?”
“It’s like my mother taught me…a woman never discusses her age or her love life.” She paused to let that sink in, and then she went on. “Unless, of course, she’s with a friend. And since you’re a friend, that’s exactly how I feel.”
“Then you should wait, Hannah. One has to be the clear winner.”
“I think you’re right. But let’s get back to the real problem. What am I going to make for dinner?”
“Sausage. That cooks in no time at all, especially if you get the precooked kind. Fix sausage and potato pancakes, and some of your cookies for dessert.”
“Sausage it is,” Hannah decided, “but potato pancakes aren’t quick and easy.”
“Yes, they are. Pick up a package of frozen hash browns. They’re already grated. Just chop them up so they’re in smaller pieces and follow your favorite recipe.”
“Good idea!” Hannah began to smile. “What else?”
“Get applesauce and don’t forget the sour cream. You can serve those on the side. I’ll wrap up your sausage while you go and get the rest. And pick up some ice cream. You can serve it for dessert, along with some of the cookies you always carry around in your truck.”
“Sausage tonight,” Hannah announced to the cat that hurtled himself into her arms the moment she pushed open her door.
“Rowwww.”
“I knew you’d like that. And Uncle Mike is coming for dinner.” Hannah stopped and stared down at Moishe, who was staring up at her with startled yellow eyes. “Did I really call him Uncle Mike? I did, didn’t I?” She kicked the door shut behind her and placed her resident feline on top of the couch so that she could shrug out of her parka. “Sorry, Moishe. I must be hanging around Andrea too much.”
Moishe said nothing. He was a smart cat. Hannah went back outside, picked up the Kitty Valet boxes and the sack of groceries she’d propped up outside her door so that she’d be able to catch him, and carried them inside. She tossed the boxes on the couch and carried the sack to the kitchen. The ice cream went into the freezer, the sausage and the chicken breast that would constitute the meat portion of her dinner went into covered pans in the oven, the hash browns sat on the counter waiting for her attention, and the kitty crunchies came out of the bag in her broom closet.
“I know you’re hungry. Just hold on a second,” Hannah said as she scooped up a generous portion and put it in the bottom of Moishe’s empty food bowl to cover the grinning portrait of Garfield, whose cartoon countenance appeared every time the bowl was emptied. Another generous scoop ensured that Hannah would have time to mix up the potato pancakes. Once Moishe’s water bowl was filled, she was free to continue the preparation of Mike’s dinner for at least ten minutes, maybe fifteen, or until her cat ran out of essentials.
The hash browns went into the food processor and were more finely chopped by the steel blade. Hannah imagined her Great-Grandmother Elsa spinning in her grave because she’d used boughten hash browns, but that couldn’t be helped. Two large eggs sans shells had found their way into a large mixing bowl. Hannah whipped them up until they were fluffy and then added onion powder, season salt, black pepper, and two tablespoons of cracker crumbs. She stirred everything up, covered it with a paper towel just in case feline interest escalated, and turned back to her food processor. Once the hash browns had been removed to a cutting board and patted dry with paper towels, she spooned them into her mixing bowl, gave everything an encompassing stir, recovered the bowl with the kitty deterrent towel, put on a fresh pot of coffee, and headed off to the bedroom to change clothes for Mike’s arrival.
She wasn’t a moment too soon. When Hannah came out of the bedroom wearing her favorite forest green top and clean jeans, she heard the doorbell ring. Mike was here. She had to hurry. She opened the door, ushered him in, gave him a cup of coffee, and settled him on the couch with the Kitty Valet boxes to assemble the contents while she went into the kitchen to finish preparing their meal.
Heating the butter and olive oil didn’t take long. Hannah gave the contents of her mixing bowl a stir, decided the batter was neither too dry nor too wet, and began to scoop tiny pancakes into her largest frying pan. She flattened them slightly with a metal spatula so that the shredded potatoes would form a single layer, and then she opened the oven to check the progress of Mike’s sausage and her skinless, boneless, chicken breast.
The sausage was heated through, and it smelled delicious, the chicken breast less so. Hannah returned it to the oven hoping that some of the sausage flavor might migrate behind the closed, sealed door, and turned her attention to dishing up the sour cream and the applesauce.
“Almost ready,” she called out to Mike once she’d checked her pancakes, found them browned nicely, and flipped them over. “What would you like to drink?”
“I’d like a Cold Spring Export, but I’ll settle for coffee. I’m on duty tonight.”
“I know. What’s the latest? Are Jessica and the baby going to be all right?”
“They think so, but it’ll be touch and go for another couple of days. Bridget and Cyril are keeping Rick’s oldest, and Rick’s staying at the hospital with Jessica.”
Hannah bit her tongue. She really wanted to ask if Mike knew the truth about Rick and Ronni, but that would be fishing for gossip. It wasn’t her business. She didn’t need to know. But oh, how she wanted to!
“Rick said they’d been fighting about Ronni. Jessica got really upset, and he thinks that’s why she went into premature labor. He feels horribly guilty about it.”
He ought to if what I heard is true, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it. She said nothing and waited for the floodgates to open and Mike to go on.
“Nothing happened, you know. Ronni told me that. She said Rick had a little crush on her, but she handled it without hurting his feelings.”
“Oh?” Hannah said, but she thought something different. And just how did she do that? her mind queried.
“She told him he was very attractive, but she never dated married men,” Mike answered her unspoken question.
I’ll bet! Hannah’s mind said sarcastically, but her mouth said, “That’s good.”
“I thought so. But you know how young guys are. They think with their…uh…libido and not with their brain.”
“Right.” Hannah removed the sausage from the oven, cut it into serving-size pieces and paired it with the six small potato pancakes she’d fried for Mike. Once she’d grabbed the coffee carafe to pour more into his mug, she headed out to the coffee table to deliver his dinner.
“That sure smells good,” Mike commented, staring down at the plate Hannah placed before him. “What kind of sausage is that?”
“Polish. I got it from Florence, and she said it’s handmade at a tiny sausage factory near Red Wing. And those are potato pancakes. Help yourself to sour cream, or applesauce, or both.”
“Thanks, Hannah.” Mike clearly wanted to dig in, but he looked up at her instead. “What are you having?”
“Chicken breast and salad, but don’t worry about me. I’ve got all night to eat. Just start and I’ll fry you up another batch.”
“Okay,” Mike said, forking a piece of sausage and popping it into his mouth. “You’re the best, you know? Sometimes I wish you’d taken me up on that marriage proposal. Then I could eat like this every night.”
That was the reason he’d asked her to marry him? Hannah’s eyebrows approached lift velocity. But she wasn’t being fair, and she curbed her impulse to make a sharp retort as she headed off to the kitchen to fry up another batch.
LAZY POTATO PANCAKES
3? cups frozen hash brown potatoes
2 eggs (2 extra large or 3 small)
1/4 cup grated onion (or 1/2 teaspoon onion powder)
1 teaspoon season salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 Tablespoons cracker crumbs (matzo meal or flour will also work)
1/8 cup butter (1/4 stick, 1 ounce) for frying
1/8 cup good olive oil for frying
Toppings for the Table:
sour cream
applesauce
cherry sauce***
blueberry sauce***
apricot sauce***
Hannah’s 1st Note: Great-Grandma Elsa used to make these in a cast iron frying pan she called a spider. She peeled and grated her own potatoes and put them in a bowl of cold water, salt, and lemon juice so they wouldn’t turn brown. I added the word “lazy” to the title of her recipe because when I’m in a hurry, I use frozen hash browns.
Place the frozen hash browns in the bowl of a food processor. Use the steel blade, and process with an on-and-off motion until the potatoes are finely chopped. (If you don’t have a food processor, you don’t have to go out and buy one to make these. Just lay your frozen potatoes out on a cutting board in single layers, and chop them up into much smaller pieces with a chef’s knife.)
Leave the potatoes in the food processor (or on the counter) while you…
Crack the eggs into a large bowl and beat them with a fork or a wire whip until they’re fluffy.
Stir in the grated onion (or the onion powder if you decided to use that), and the salt and pepper.
Mix in the cracker crumbs.
Let the mixture sit on the counter for at least two minutes to give the crumbs time to swell as they soak up the liquid.
If you used a food processor, dump the potatoes on a cutting board. (If you used a chef’s knife, they’re already there.) Blot them with a paper towel to get rid of any moisture. Then add them to the mixture in the bowl, and stir them in.
If the mixture in your bowl looks watery, add another Tablespoon of cracker crumbs to thicken it. Wait for the cracker crumbs to swell up, and then stir again. If it’s still too watery, add another Tablespoon of cracker crumbs. The resulting mixture should be thick, like cottage cheese.
Place the 1/4 stick of butter and the 1/8 cup of olive oil in a large nonstick frying pan. (This may be overkill, but I spray the frying pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray before I add the butter and olive oil.) Turn the burner on medium-high heat.
Once the oil and butter are hot, use a quarter-cup measure to drop in the batter. Don’t try to get all of the batter out of the measuring cup. Your goal is to make 1/8 cup pancakes, and if you don’t scrape out the batter, that’s approximately what you’ll get.
Keep the pancakes about two inches apart, and cover the bottom of the frying pan with them. Flatten them very slightly with a spatula so the potatoes spread out and don’t hump up in the middle.
Fry the pancakes until they’re lightly browned on the bottom. That should take 2 to 3 minutes. You can tell by lifting one up with a spatula and peeking, but if it’s not brown and you have to do it again, choose another pancake to lift.
Once the bottoms of the pancakes are brown, flip them over with your spatula and fry them another 2 to 3 minutes, or until the other side is brown.
Lift out the pancakes and drain them on paper towels. Serve hot off the stove if you can, or keep the pancakes warm by placing them in a pan in a warm oven (the lowest temperature that your oven will go) in single layers between sheets of aluminum foil.
Serve with your choice of sour cream, applesauce, cherry sauce, blueberry sauce, or apricot sauce.
Yield: Approximately 24 small pancakes, depending on pancake size.
CHERRY, BLUEBERRY, AND APRICOT SAUCES
1 small can pitted cherries, blueberries, or apricots
1 small jar cherry, blueberry, or apricot jam
Hannah’s 1st Note: It doesn’t really matter how large the can of fruit or jar of jam is. If you want a lot, buy large cans and jars. If you don’t want so much, buy small cans and small jars.
Drain the can of fruit, reserving the juice. You may need it later to thin your sauce if it’s too thick.
Place the canned fruit in a food processor with the steel blade or in a blender. (If you’re using cherries, it’s a good idea to squeeze them a little when you put them in to make sure they’re all properly pitted.)
Process or blend until the fruit is pureed. Transfer it to a bowl and let it sit on the counter while you…
Heat the fruit jam. You can do this by removing it from the jar and placing it in a microwave-safe bowl to heat in the microwave. You can also put the jam in a small pan over medium heat on the stove and stir it until it’s melted. (If there are whole cherries in your cherry jam, you might want to cut them up a little. Then again, big pieces are nice, too. The same goes for some apricot jam—it may have large pieces, too.)
Add the melted jam to the bowl with the pureed fruit. Mix it all up thoroughly. Let it sit on the counter to cool, and then check for consistency. If you think it’s too thick to drop onto the top of a hot potato pancake, stir in a little of the reserved fruit juice.
Store your sauce in the refrigerator in an airtight jar or container, but remember to take it out to warm to room temperature an hour before you plan to serve your pancakes.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: You can make sauces from almost any canned fruit. I’ve used peach, raspberry, and pear. I’ve also served my Lazy Potato Pancakes with rhubarb sauce, but I don’t think you can buy canned rhubarb. If you live in Minnesota, you won’t have to buy it, or make your own, for that matter. I’ve got a whole cupboard full of rhubarb sauce and jam that my customers canned and gave me last summer.
Lisa said she tried pineapple sauce (that’s Herb’s favorite fruit) and it was wonderful. Since she couldn’t find pineapple jam at the Red Owl, she used apple jelly.