I handed over the cookies and fiddled with the clasp on my purse so I wouldn’t start wringing my hands. Sana and Valerie had loved them, but were they good enough for the Brew-ha Cafe? “I thought I’d start with the classics and then expand from there. I present to you ube chocolate chip cookies two ways: one with semisweet chips and the other with white chocolate chips. Tell me which you prefer. I’m honestly a little torn.”
They took turns sampling my offering, giving each cookie their undivided attention. Elena said, “If you’re going to serve the cookies as is, I’d say the semisweet gets my vote. It plays well with the earthiness of the ube, but is still a chocolate chip cookie. The white chocolate is a bit too sweet for me.”
Adeena, whose capacity for sugar was probably some kind of Guinness World Record, said, “I disagree about the white chocolate being too sweet. It’s so good! But it lacks oomph, you know? If you’re playing with the classics, why not add macadamia nuts? Then it could be your take on white chocolate macadamia cookies. Which are my favorite cookies, FYI,” she said to Elena.
Now this I missed. The creativity, the collaboration, the sheer inspiration I got from working with people who knew me well. “Love that idea! Thanks, Adeena. We’ve got our beginner cookies down, so I’ll make a large batch for today. Any idea what I should tackle next?”
I put it out there in the spirit of collaboration, not because I was completely idealess and needed their help or anything.
Elena raised her hand. “Well, one of my favorite treats are those lemon poppyseed muffins every coffeeshop has, but they’re a little too sweet and too big for me. They should taste like breakfast, not dessert.”
I jotted this down in the Notes app on my phone. “I love those muffins! And while a healthy version makes me sad, I’m sure other people would appreciate the option. I could replace the lemon with calamansi for extra kick, maybe have a glaze or curd on the side for those who want something sweeter. Anything else?”
“Since it’s summer, Adeena and I thought we should offer a frozen treat. We don’t have an ice cream maker, but paletas are super easy. We just need ice pop molds.”
Adeena nodded. “We figured we should start small. One flavor each to represent us. I already told her I want a kulfi-inspired ice pop.”
“Mine’s going to be arroz con leche since it’s my favorite dessert. You need to think about what your signature paleta flavor will be.”
My mouth watered as I remembered the Mexican ice cream carts that were everywhere in Chicago, the tinkling bells announcing the arrival of the paletero with ice pops in all sorts of delicious flavors, such as the rice pudding Elena was so fond of. A paleta that would represent me, huh? That would require some serious thought. Though one thing occurred to me.
“Paletas sound great, but a bit time-consuming since we’ll need to get the molds, freeze the mixture, unmold the paletas, and then wrap them up to sell. Why don’t we sell ice candy instead?” I explained that ice candies were basically ice pops with the mixtures poured into a slim plastic bag then frozen and sold as is. “I saw a Filipino food blogger on Instagram post about these new heavy-duty plastic zip bags that would be perfect for our shop.”
I found the post on my phone and showed it to Adeena and Elena. Adeena nodded. “I like it. And because they’re smaller and faster than paletas, we can play around with more flavors.”
“I still need to think about my ice candy flavor, but I can get started on the cookies now.” I paused, remembering why I had originally come over and the huge favor I needed to ask them. “Also, we need to talk. When do we open?” We still hadn’t agreed on an opening time last time we met, so I left the decision up to them since they were the ones running the shop this week.
Adeena glanced at the clock. Nine a.m. “Now, actually. Elena and I decided that we’ll start earlier once we have our official opening, but wanted to stick to a simple nine to five this week.”
As she said that, a tall figure knocked on the glass and waved at us. She hurried to let him in. “Jae! How are you?”
Dr. Jae Park owned the dental clinic a few doors down and had become a good friend after I’d moved back to Shady Palms. I could tell that he hoped for something more than friendship, but at this point in time, it was all I was able to give. Though sometimes I wished I could. Like when he stood in front of me, glistening from the heat, filling out his scrubs in a way that made those shapeless bits of cloth Bernadette was always complaining about look downright sexy. Though with Adeena standing there watching us, I couldn’t help but think of Amir and his suit-and-tie perfection waiting for me to make a decision. Guilt pooled in my stomach, effectively stopping my ogling—I turned my mind to more pressing matters.
Jae stepped into the shop, briefly turning his face toward the air conditioner on the wall before smiling at us. “Why, hello, my witchy women. Do I get the honor of being your first customer?”
He’d taken to calling me a witchy woman after he’d heard me singing the Eagles song at karaoke one day. He said it suited me, so I’d laughed and told him about the meaning of our cafe name, which cemented the nickname. It was cheesy, but I didn’t mind. His cheesiness was part of what made him so sweet.
“You do! And for that distinction, you can have the rest of these cookies that I’d prepared as a sample. I was about to go in the back to make a fresh batch for the cafe.” I handed over the bag. “Tell me what you think so I can make any tweaks before getting started. I already know I’m adding macadamia nuts to the white chocolate version.”
He took his taste-testing job seriously, scrunching up his face in concentration as he tried each cookie. “Man, these are good. I think the macadamia nuts are a good call for the white chocolate chip. Coconut might also be nice, either in addition to the nuts or as a replacement for those with nut allergies. The regular chocolate chip cookies are fine.”
There was something about the way he said it that prompted me to ask, “Just fine?”
He shrugged. “I mean, they’re delicious. But something seems like it’s missing. I don’t know, maybe I’m just comparing them too much to my idea of what a chocolate chip cookie should taste like.”
“Hmm.” I made a noncommittal noise as I tried to decipher what was missing from my recipe. Just when I thought I had finally nailed the baking thing. At least I had a jumping-off point. Perfecting those cookies was what I needed to get out of my funk and they were going to be glorious, so help me . . .
“By the way, are you OK? I heard about Rob Thompson.” Jae, probably noticing the troubled look on my face, changed the subject.
I groaned. “How much did you hear?”
“That you stumbled across another dead body.”
“What?!” Adeena rounded on me. “How could you not tell me?”
“I was going to tell you the whole story while I prepped the cookies, but then, you know.” I gestured toward Jae.
He smiled gently. “It’s OK. My brother told me everything.”
“Really? I didn’t think Detective Park would talk about a case with family.”
“He usually wouldn’t, but he knows we’re friends. He wanted me to check up on you. Make sure you were doing OK, ‘processing things well,’ was the way he put it.”