Page 13 of The Kitchen Contract

I aim a thumbs up at the camera. “Best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”

Her smile is wide and genuine. “And do you think you could make them again on your own?”

“I think so. I think you taught me all I need to know, so it’s just a matter of whether or not I paid attention.” I wink at the camera.

“Well, if you get stuck, you can always watch this episode again,” she replies with a laugh. “That’s it for today, friends. Come back next time to watch Alex learn to make tacos. Goodbye for now.”

I wave and say goodbye as well. We stand still for a moment, and then she clicks the button and it’s done. Our first episode is recorded. I offer a high-five.

“That was great. I have a really good feeling about this,” I tell her. “I think this show is going places.”

Nora is beaming. “I sure hope so.”

10

NORA

What a rush.

We just finished recording the taco episode Alex requested, and I can’t believe how energized I feel right now. I should be getting tired after recording two back-to-back videos, but I feel like I’m just getting started.

We’re taking a lunch break to eat the tacos we made, and Alex is groaning in delight as he starts on his third one. “These are the best tacos I’ve ever had.”

“Funny, I seem to remember you saying something similar about the pancakes earlier.” Pancakes that he positively inhaled, lending credence to his claim. He’s taking his right to eat what we make seriously.

“It was true then and it’s true now. Something about making them yourself makes them taste better, I guess.”

I smile. “I’m glad you’re satisfied with yourself and the food.”

“I am.” He pauses eating to look up at me. “You’re a really good teacher. And your food is delicious. I never would have guessed how easy it is to make chicken soft tacos instead of the regular beef hard shell ones. Not that I know how to make those, either.”

His compliment warms me and makes me glad I decided to go for something a little different. I showed him how to use a store-bought rotisserie chicken by shredding the meat and mixing it with salsa and taco seasoning. We used the same griddle as the pancakes to lightly toast small flour tortillas and topped the chicken soft tacos with sour cream, shredded cheese, and avocado slices.

Alex wipes his mouth and sits back. “So what’s the plan now?”

“Now we clean up our taco mess, and after that depends on you. Are you up for one more recipe today?”

“I’m game. Gotta have something to eat for dinner tonight.”

“I think your taco leftovers will work for that.”

“Yeah, but if we make another meal, I’ll have enough leftovers for tomorrow too. Maybe even Monday.”

I laugh. “I guess it’s good that you’re planning ahead.”

Alex stands and begins to clean up, moving dirty dishes to the sink. I stretch plastic wrap over the bowl with the leftover chicken and start piling the remaining ingredients into the fridge. An extra wide, stainless-steel model of fridge that I’ve only ever seen in magazines.

“Why did you buy a house with such a nice kitchen if you never use it?” I wonder aloud.

Alex looks up from the sink where he’s rinsing plates and bowls to go into the dishwasher and shrugs. “I use it some. Mostly the fridge and the microwave,” he admits with a smile. “But I didn’t choose this house for the kitchen. I chose it because it’s close to the neighborhood Grant and Maddy both live in and for the backyard.”

“The backyard?”

“Yeah. As soon as we finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out there.”

Minutes later, he’s drying his hands. “Come on, Ellie, time for a tour.”

“Ellie?”

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