Chapter 9 #2
“You’ll be fine. I’m teaching the same stuff I taught at Escargot. You already know those techniques.” Zach shrugged. “Besides, I mostly need someone for crowd control, and you’re great with people.”
“I don’t know…” Wasn’t she just in danger of showing off her incompetence?
“C’mon. It’ll be great. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to learn to work together more.
I’ll give you a refresher before the class starts.
I already know you’re a quick learner.” Zach raised an eyebrow at her.
“You could write about it for your article. A behind-the-scenes look at a cooking class or whatever. Say yes, partner.”
Wow. He really believed in her. How could she say no to that? “Partner.”
“Great. We’ll see you in”—he looked at his watch—“twenty minutes.”
Eep. She should have found out when the class started before agreeing to it.
How was she ever going to get her letter written if she kept being distracted by Zach Sullivan?
This might be Zach’s best class yet, despite the fact that he’d had little time to prepare. It was fitting that Dani had scheduled this beginners class for a Monday. It seemed he would never escape Make-It-Mondays.
If only this favor for his sister wasn’t distracting him from the real reason he was here on Jonathon Island: getting out from under Chef Louie’s thumb and landing a job with actual prospects.
Zach did a quick status check. All under control.
The honeymooners were giggling over their saucepan, the sisters from Minneapolis seemed to be in a competition to see who could dice their onions the smallest. And the rest of the class occupied themselves with various tasks.
He’d chosen to lead them through a boeuf bourguignon, the recipe simplified for home cooks.
A fun dish for people to have in their repertoire that had the added benefit of teaching a lot of skills.
Ava flitted from station to station, offering a positive word here and a gentle correction there.
Once, he even spotted her correcting someone’s hold on a knife.
When Dani had told him earlier that day there would be thirty inexperienced people crammed into the hotel kitchen like the sardines they’d be using for the Caesar salad, he’d nearly hyperventilated.
The kitchen was spacious enough to accommodate a well-trained staff of twenty or so, but newbies?
They were lucky they’d been able to figure out how to move the group through the steps in shifts.
If it weren’t for Ava’s help, he’d be drowning right now.
He caught her arm as she hurried past, ponytail swinging with her bouncing step. “Nice knife work. You’re really learning.”
“I pick things up quickly. Especially when I learn from the best.” She whirled away to the next group.
He put a hand to his chest. That shot had hit home.
Was he…having fun?
When was the last time cooking was fun for him?
Here, in this kitchen tailor-made to his suggestions after his dad had burned down the last one, on the island he’d sworn never to return to, with the woman who had ruined his life, Zachary Sullivan was having fun.
The grin that slipped onto his lips felt good. Strange but good.
He clapped his hands. All eyes turned to him. “Okay, class. Time to get cooking. We’ll have to take turns at the stove, but now is when the magic happens.” He instructed the class to break themselves into pairs for sautéing their veggies.
The door to the kitchen opened and swung closed.
In his peripheral vision, he caught a quick glimpse of a man in a blue polo and khakis.
He finished explaining how they would use the cooktop, then glanced at the visitor.
Then looked again. Paul Hawkeye had just taken a place near the door.
“Keep gradually whisking in this flour,” he told the sisters from Minneapolis, then walked over to Chef Hawkeye.
His stomach was doing loops. “Hello, Chef. I’m Zach Sullivan. We met at the competition over the weekend.”
“Yes, I remember those abysmal sauerkraut sliders.” Chef Hawkeye shook his hand. “Creative, but terrible.”
“Sorry about afflicting your taste buds that way. I should have tasted the dish before serving it. I’m still not sure what happened.”
“We all make mistakes. It’s how we pick ourselves up again that matters.” The other man leaned back and looked at him, gaze steady. “You show potential.”
The stomach loops decreased. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Please, call me Paul. Your sister Dani told me where to find you. I don’t want to interrupt your class.
It looks like you’re reaching a critical part.
A riff on a boeuf bourguignon, right?” Paul waved his hand toward the room.
“Don’t mind me. I like fitting in a little refresher here and there.
I’m always open to learning.” He crossed his burly arms and leaned back against the wall.
Yeah, no pressure there. Especially since this beef-and-vegetable recipe came almost directly out of Paul’s cookbook Stew.
Zach turned back to the room. “Okay, everyone. We’re going to take turns sautéing our mirepoix. Ava will lead one group, and I’ll lead the other.”
Ava’s eyes widened, and he hustled over to her. “I thought I just had to be the encourager,” she whispered.
“Plans change. I need your help. You can do this.” He held her elbow until she met his eye.
He needed this class to go well. At her shuddering breath, his own concerns fled.
Forget Chef Hawkeye. Ava needed this class to go well.
He held her gaze for a beat. “Ava, you’ve got this.
You did great when you were in my class. ”
A murmur began around them. Ava took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and nodded once.
“Attagirl.” He squeezed her elbow and let go. “Let’s form up into two lines.”
The next thirty minutes passed in a blink. The aroma of onions and carrots and then cooked beef flavored the air. Soon each pair of students had a fragrant stew in front of them. “Now for the best part. Dig in, everyone.”
Paul moved to the closest table. “May I?” He gestured at the pan. The honeymooners nodded. Taking a clean spoon, he dipped it into the soup.
Zach held his breath.
Paul closed his eyes as he tried it. His face became a fraction less stern. “Zach, I like the use of sherry here.” He opened his eyes and leaned down to smell the soup, then straightened up again. “Normally it would overpower a dish, but the strong beef elements balance everything out.”
The tightness in Zach’s chest eased. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Flat iron steak?” Paul raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. I like to use that one for my classes instead of a beef roast.” Zach cleared his throat. “It’s tender and well marbled, so you get the flavor of a long-cooking stew without needing to take as much time.”
“Great idea. I might even make a change in my next edition of Stew.” Chef Hawkeye dipped a clean spoon for another bite. “I’d credit you, of course. If it’s okay.”
“It would be my honor.” His chest expanded. He faced the group. “Everyone, this is Chef Paul Hawkeye. You may have seen him on the Food Network.” A titter ran around the room. “In fact, this recipe is an homage to his Beef All Day from his recipe book Stew.”
Everyone clapped.
“Great recipe, Chef,” one of the girls from Minneapolis called out. “We’d offer you a bowl of ours, but I’m afraid we already ate it all.”
Chef Hawkeye laughed and raised his hands, palm forward. “Thanks, everyone. You had an outstanding teacher in Chef Sullivan here. I hope you all have a good time at the rest of the festival.”
The class filtered out, and Zach started stacking dishes.
Dani had told him she’d hired someone to clean up after class, but he didn’t want to leave too big of a mess.
On the other side of the room, Ava was doing the same thing.
He heard a noise behind him and turned to see Paul also helping with cleanup.
“Sir, you don’t have to do that.” He lifted the dishes out of Paul’s hands. “We have someone coming in for dish duty.”
“No need to ‘sir’ me,” the chef said. “I’m simply paying you back for the tasting I just had. Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about something.” Paul glanced at Ava.
Ava looked between the two of them. “Right. I’ll see you later, Zach. We should go over that recipe for the competition.”
He was already looking forward to it. The room fell silent until the door closed behind her.
“Let me get straight to the point.” Chef Paul leaned on his elbow on the workbench he’d just cleaned. “I’m opening a new restaurant in Chicago and am vetting candidates for head chef. Your name came up as a possibility.”
Zach’s pulse pounded in his ears. Chef Paul Hawkeye’s restaurants were known to be overnight sensations.
He’d hoped to work in one if only to climb his way up the ladder, but the possibility that he might jump straight to head chef boggled his mind.
A dream come true. And ten minutes ago, he would have said a pipe dream.
“It was a coincidence that we are here together, but a good one. I’d planned on coming to Escargot next week, but this is even better.” Paul straightened up. “I have to say, I’m impressed so far.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Zach’s lips felt frozen. Head chef in a brand new restaurant? A chance to set up his own kitchen and train employees without yelling at them all the time? Yes, please. “How can you be impressed when my cooking has been subpar?”
“That dessert wasn’t subpar. This”—Paul waved his hand toward the rest of the room—“wasn’t subpar.
But you should know that being a great chef isn’t just about your cooking.
It’s about your attitude. I’ve been watching you.
You’re a team player. You’re usually good with people, and you have a command of the kitchen.
These aren’t things that can be taught.”
Zach took in a deep breath. His chest filled with a warm sensation. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Paul’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. He tapped at it for a moment, the silence stretching thin between them. “Okay.” He looked up from his cell and directly at Zach. “I’ve got to run. Nothing is set in stone yet, but I’ll make some calls, talk to some people.”
Did Zach want to stay in Chicago? He stacked the last of the bowls in the sink.
If it meant working for Paul Hawkeye, how could he pass up the opportunity?
Plus, Ava lived in Chicago. She was even buying a home there.
He’d enjoy the chance to get to know her better.
His thoughts buzzed, and he didn’t trust himself to speak.
Zach walked with Paul to the door of the kitchen.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Paul paused just outside the door. “You don’t mind if I call Chef Louie at Escargot, do you? He and I went to culinary school together a long, long time ago. We used to get into so much trouble.”
Zach hesitated, but Paul didn’t wait for a response.
“I just want to get Chef Louie’s opinion on how you work under pressure.
I always like to talk to someone who has firsthand experience working with my chefs before I make big decisions.
” Paul chuckled. “Though there’s been plenty of pressure this week already.
” He reached out to shake Zach’s hand. “I owe Louie a call anyway.”
Great. The birth of a dream and the death of one all in the span of five minutes. Because if Paul Hawkeye was friends with Chef Louie and trusted his words, there was no way Zach would be landing that job.