She sighed.
“We chatted a while,” he said, “and I did not allow them to order. Not off the menu.” He made a face. “Those are all desserts that regular people have eaten. No. You have to make something new, something different and just for TiffanTosh.”
I rolled my eyes. “That name is such a joke. Do they introduce themselves like that? And did they order in third person or something? Like, ‘TiffanTosh does not care for Key lime squares with brown butter crust.’ Or ‘TiffanTosh will need low-dust-emitting toilet paper this evening.’” I snorted when I laughed.
Avery and Tova stared. She wrinkled her nose. “That’s so disgusting. Why did you have to go there?”
“They ordered together,” Avery said, clearly trying to rise above my gutter talk. “They want to share a dessert.”
“That’s so romantic.” Tova shook her head and actually sounded choked up. I was in TMZ hell.
“What can you do?” Avery asked. He worried his lower lip with his teeth. “Oh, and I forgot to say they’re both gluten-free.”
I groaned.
“But not sugar-free or dairy-free.” Avery sounded triumphant, as if it shouldn’t bother me that I couldn’t use flour, but milk and sugar were no problem.
“My best GF work is already on the menu,” I said, looking to the ceiling and tapping my fingernails on the counter while I thought. “The panna cotta, the budino … ”
“Both delicious options,” Avery said. The ingratiating tone wasn’t moving me.
“No crusts, no crumbles, no cakes, no cookies that are worth the effort,” I thought aloud. I closed my eyes, rummaging around in my mind for what I could offer these TiffanTosh people. Unbidden, the thought came to me. I pictured Forsythia Farms and the day Kai and I spent there among all the fruit careening to the sweet peak of summer’s bounty. I wanted to capture that—the warmth, the sun, the vibrant flavors that jumped off the plate.
I opened my eyes. “Got it.” I looked at Avery. “Get them a nice Moscato and come back in thirty minutes.”
Tova and I worked double-time to complete the orders from “regular people,” which were already in and gathering dust before TiffanTosh’s interruption. When we had things in relative order and the remaining garnishes were ones she couldn’t foul up, I turned to my empty workspace. Moving slowly and carefully to avoid bruising the fruit, I combined handfuls of plump raspberries and deep purple blueberries, a healthy cup of sugar, and some spring water into a heavy saucepan. It climbed slowly to a gentle boil while I stirred and folded it carefully onto itself. I lowered the heat and let it form a syrup before adding another handful of raspberries and a splash of raspberry brandy.
Avery came back to hover as I was finishing the dish. I puddled the warm berries into the bottom of a bowl and added a scoop of my house-made vanilla bean ice cream. Nestling the bowl onto a white rectangular dish, I added two ceramic shot glasses and poured in the final piece.
“What is that?” Tova asked, her voice hushed.
“Something I’ve been tinkering with. It’s kind of a hot chocolate meets a pot de crème. Silky, espresso-laced chocolate sauce with a touch of cream and a pinch of freshly grated cinnamon. They can sip it, like a mini-cocktail. I think it will go well with the berries.” I stood back, evaluating the finished product.
“So brilliant,” Avery said to interrupt my thoughts. “Simple and absolutely stunning on the plate.”
“Yeah, but I want to eat it all right now.” Tova reached over to me for a fist bump. “If they send it back, I want it.”
Avery swallowed hard. “Let’s hope they don’t send it back.” He lifted the plate carefully into his hands. “Let’s hope they think simple is good.”
My heart was beating faster than I wanted to admit. I watched Avery go through the swinging door to the dining room and stood with my arms crossed, settling in to wait for a verdict.
The clock on Thrill’s kitchen wall was barreling toward two in the morning by the time I used my shoulder to heave open the door to the outside world. The arches of my feet were throbbing, and I swore I could feel each individual, aching bone in my body. And, I noted, my cheek muscles felt the tremble of fatigue after having smiled for the better part of the last few hours.
My impromptu dessert for TiffanTosh was a coup. They had asked to see me, regaled me with compliments, and then insisted I sit at their table for a chat.
My grin widened again to remember what they’d said.