Page 15 of Christmas Secrets

Ben chuckled as he followed her into the cheery kitchen. “Winter’s just begun, ye know.”

“We’ve had snow since Thanksgiving,” she replied with a laugh.

“That’s normal too.”

“It’s taking some getting used to, but I don’t mind it,” she added, going to the coffee pot. “Would you like a hot cup this morning?”

“I’d love it,” Ben replied fervently, taking a mug off the mug rack on the counter and entwining both hands around it while Poppy poured. The warmth immediately seeped through the stoneware and heated his hands. “Thank ye, Poppy.”

Poppy poured herself a cup and headed for the table. “So, what exactly did you have in mind as far as some cooking lessons?”

Ben sat down and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got about an hour to spare. I decided I’d like to learn how to make Clootie Dumplings. It’s one of Dottie’s favorite dishes during the holiday season.”

Poppy almost choked on her coffee. One eyebrow slid up. “A whole hour huh? Not to be discouraging, but I think you might want to start with something less ambitious the first time around. Even though I haven’t made them myself yet, I’ve read Lucerne’s recipe. An hour won’t be near long enough.”

Ben stared. “How long?”

“Four to five hours at least I’m guessing, and that’s if you know what you are doing. There are several steps to making the dumplings,” she explained. “And some special tools, like Clootie bags and a bamboree pot.”

Disappointment flashed through Ben and his determination wavered. “How can any dish take five hours or more to create? Unless it’s roasting a turkey or something. And that’s not much work, ye just stick the bird in the oven and the oven takes care of the rest,” he replied.

It was Poppy’s turn to stare. Finally, she spoke. “Well, there is the matter of whether or not to stuff the turkey, the type of stuffing to use, the proper herbs, oils or butters to grease the bird with, the intermittent basting to produce that nice browned skin on the outside, and timing it to come out just as you are finishing up the other dishes. There is a bit more involved than just putting it in a pan and leaving it to the oven to take care of it.”

Ben flushed and then sighed. “I had no idea there was so much involved in cooking.”

“Could I make a suggestion?”

“Aye, please do.”

“Why don’t we start with something simple like crockpot dishes? Since you and Dottie both work, crockpot meals are easy preparation and can be ready to eat at the end of the day.”

Ben nodded. “Dottie does a stew now and then, but it’s no my favorite type of dish. Too bland.”

Poppy blinked. “Doesn’t she use spices in it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She did once in the Habanero Roast Lamb, but I told her that was one dish she didn’t need to fix again.” He shuddered at the memory.

“Sounds like she got a bit carried away with the spice that time. If you like lamb stew, we could try it again with the right pepper proportions. You might enjoy it this time around.”

Ben frowned. “It might not be a good idea to prepare a dish she didn’t do well with,” he finally replied, rubbing his neck. How about I just watch ye prepare what ye are having fer dinner tonight? I can ask questions and take notes fer today.”

“I’m making meatloaf for tonight, with mashed potatoes and gravy.”

“That sounds fine,” he replied in relief.

Poppy nodded. “If you really want to make Clootie dumplings, let’s wait until it’s closer to Christmas. Angus says he has more free time as the holidays get closer, so maybe you do too.”

“I want to keep this secret from Dottie, but aye, I’d like to do that. If they turn out well, I can bring them to the Neamh Christmas party and surprise her,” he added enthusiastically. “Do I need to get the clootie bags and a bamboree pot? What about ingredients?”

Poppy laughed. “No, I have everything we need. I was going to make some for the Sangster family dinner anyway.”

Ben picked up his coffee cup and drank the last swallow as he stood up. “Okay, so how do we make meatloaf? I brought a notepad and a pencil; I’ll get them from my coat.”

Poppy stood up. “Right, let’s get it going. We’re wasting daylight, as my ex used to say.”

After retrieving his pen and notepad, Ben spent the next 20 minutes taking notes, watching Poppy mix eggs, sauces, crackers, and other things into a bowl with a pound of hamburger. Then she squished it all between her fingers until it was thoroughly mixed into a nice loaf shape to put in the loaf pan. Then it was his turn to make a second loaf.

“I’m supposed to put my hands in that?” he asked in distaste, pointing to the eggs on top of the meat mound.

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