Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.
A Matter of Taste - Feast for Pigs (Brogan Bites Series)
In its silver roaster, roasted ham glistened with
brown sugar and pineapple juice. A platter of thinly sliced, medium-rare
beef, garnished with onions and mushrooms, stretched before it, flanked
by three trays of cheddar and cream drenched potatoes. Also on the table
was a large porcelain bowl of fusilli, studded with cherry tomatoes and
fluffy broccoli florets in a light white wine-basil sauce. I added a
glass bowl of crisp baby greens and glanced at the appies on the coffee
table. The escargots looked elegant in their garlic butter brioche and
crab dip nestled in a sour dough bowl artistically bordered by bread
cubes on a glass platter.
I felt a wave of pride…and panic.
Here was a chance to prove to Brogan’s family that I was a worthy
girlfriend to God’s gift to women. On the other hand, I’d cracked open
“Cooking for Dummies” a mere six months ago in my fledgling bid for
independence. Who was I to brand myself a woman, much less a hostess?
Three hours later, Brogan’s parents sprawled on the living room carpet
beached-whale style. On each end of the couch, Brogan and Grandpa Mike
slumped like sated wildcats after a feast of buffalo.
“A good woman packs a plate until there’s no room left.” Grandpa Mike
thumped Brogan on the knee. “You got a good one there. Liked them snail
bun things.”
“And the crab dip and, omigod, those potatoes,” Shannon, Brogan’s mother
sighed and rubbed her stomach.
Hovering in the doorway between kitchen and living room, jittery with
adrenaline that had prevented me from doing more than pick at my dinner,
I felt a wayward grin tug at my lips. The hostess in me was doing a
happy dance. Quickly turning to the now depleted serving dishes, I said,
“Hope you left room for dessert.”
“What you got?” Grandpa Mike perked up.
“Cookies, brownies, fruit tarts,” I rattled off. “I can put on coffee or
tea, too.”
In short order, there was a platter of homemade baking on the coffee
table, chocolate and cinnamon dulling the aroma of meat and potatoes. I
handed out cups of coffee and listened to the clatter of cutlery resume.
When I joined the huddle in the living room, Brogan’s eighteen-month old
niece, Eryn, put her head in my lap
“Me full,” she all but slurred before falling fast asleep.
(c) Kristy Kassie, 2016
Read feedback on A Matter of Taste.
A Matter of Taste
Taste can be an important tool for engaging a
reader in a story. If readers can see the food in their minds, almost
taste the flavours and smell the smells, they will be drawn into the
storey.
