Page 16 of Christmas Secrets

Poppy’s eyes twinkled. “Ye are the one who wanted to learn how to make it. Wash your hands and get to it. Do everything you saw me do.”

“Not sure I’ll ever make this recipe again,” he muttered, pushing his sleeves up to wash his hands. “I can put everything together in the bowl, but putting my hands in it is over the top nasty.”

“You can always invest 900 pounds in a KitchenAid mixer to do all your mixing for you,” she replied with a derisive snort.

His eyes bugged. “900 pounds?” He grabbed the kitchen towel she handed him. “That’s not going to happen.”

“It’s the dream machine of every woman who loves to cook,” she teased him. “But you can get cheaper versions of almost the same thing and still make a girl happy.”

“There’s a mixed blessing in my case,” he replied ruefully. Then he brightened. “I can always get Dottie to do the mixing part fer me.”

Poppy’s eyebrows rose. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

They both laughed and Ben finally dug his hands into the bowl while scrunching his face in distaste. He kept his eyes squinted to partially avoid looking at it. Finally, he had a loaf in his hands that was holding together. It wasn’t as smooth as Poppy’s but he placed it carefully in the other loaf pan.

“Nice job,” Poppy complimented him. “Now we put some flour sack cloths over it and then put it in the fridge until we are ready to cook it. You want to time it so it gets done about the time your spouse is going to be home for dinner. And you make your mashed potatoes and other sides to coincide with that time so everything will be piping hot and ready to eat.”

“What if they don’t make it home at the usual time?”

“Then you understand why your wife, or husband, gets mad because you didn’t,” she said with a laugh.

Ben grinned and rubbed his neck. That made sense now that he was getting insider information. “It sounds like I have a lot to learn,” he confessed.

“Only if you really want to get into cooking. There are always short cuts. Box mixes, meat helpers, things like that to shorten your cooking time for a meal. They aren’t as good, but they are edible.”

“Aye. I’ve seen Dottie use box mixes fer brownies or cookies sometimes.”

“That works,” Poppy agreed. “Some box mixes aren’t bad; they just aren’t as good as the real thing most of the time.”

A sudden thought occurred to him. “How long does it take to make lasagna?”

“That depends. If you use the noodles that you don’t have to cook first, it can shorten your time,” she replied. “But usually, a couple of hours altogether. And then the clean-up of course. The sauces and ricotta cheese and such can be messy when it comes to putting it all together. And then depending on the size of your pan, it cooks covered for 45 minutes to an hour, and uncovered for 15 minutes to brown.”

“So, it’s quite an undertaking then,” he replied thoughtfully. Where had Dottie found the time? And when had she prepared it? He hadn’t seen any evidence of anything going on. In fact, he didn’t even know she’d made anything for Neamh until he’d seen the pans on the counter. Had she made it at Neamh? Oh well, it didn’t really matter. She made it and that was that.

“Dottie went to a lot of trouble to come up with those two pans. I’m really proud of her,” he added.

“You should be, that’s a heavenly recipe.”

Ben glanced at his watch. “I have to run, but thank ye, Poppy. I’ll let ye know when I can come to make the Clootie Dumplings fer sure and try to get a few more lessons in basic food prep between now and Christmas. I really appreciate it.”

Poppy followed him into the living room. “Anytime, Ben. I think what you are doing is very sweet. I’m sure Dottie will be surprised and pleased.”

“Just remember, it’s our secret,” he replied with a grin.

“Right, our secret. Wait...can I tell Angus?”

He shot her a look of horror. “Absolutely not! Dad will have a pool going to see how long it takes me to quit. And several pools on whether or not the Clootie Dumplings are edible, whether I can manage to make a decent meal, and what happens when Dottie finds out. The list goes on. Everyone but Dottie will know what’s going on, and I’ll never live it down between now and Christmas,” he growled.

Poppy started laughing until tears formed in her eyes. “I guess you are right, I didn’t think of that. Okay, our secret.”

He fist-bumped her and let himself out the door. First, he would figure out how to do some of this cooking stuff, then he’d decide which dishes were worth the effort and what tools he needed to simplify. Mostly, he wanted to do the dumplings for Dottie.

But what had he gotten himself into?

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