Page 55 of All Dressed Up

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Am I doing this right?” Rachel flipped over the golden crepe, the butter popping in the hot pan. When she’d gotten home, she was greeted by Marc and a kitchen island full of ingredients in glass bowls—cut up chicken, asparagus, lemon zest, and a few other ingredients she didn’t recognize. He’d been busy prepping everything they would need for the sweet and savory crepes for tonight’s lesson.

He explained that the trick to French cooking was to start with its staples to really understand the importance of layering flavors. They’d work up to a special coq au vin recipe he’d perfected that would make her weak in the knees—his words. Tonight, they’d start with an assortment of mouthwatering crepes.

“You’re doing just fine. Just turn the burner down a bit,” he instructed from her side, where he was dicing vegetables. After a quick lesson on the proper way to make a perfect crepe, he’d started slicing and dicing.

“Okeydokey.” She pulled up the strap to her dark pink apron that she hardly wore. Her crepe was looking more like an American pancake, a really flat one. Maybe once she loaded on the fromage blanc, it’d look more French.

She cast a smile up at her culinary instructor. He certainly was a trouper with his less than star pupil who had been more than a bit preoccupied when she first got home. She’d rushed into her kitchen and announced she needed to hop in the shower and change. She’d also confessed that she’d invited Will—the guy she’d introduced to him at Buttermilk Blooms—over for dinner.

He totally got the message without her specifically saying it was a date and offered to make himself scarce once Will arrived. So while she freshened up, Marc had made plans to go to a wine tasting that Donovan and Zoe had invited him to. He could walk over since it was at the Twig & Vines Winery next door.

She didn’t mean to push her guest out of the house, but she wanted this evening to be perfect. Sure, Will and she were supposed to be working on a new friendship, but if something not platonic happened between them tonight while they enjoyed good food and wine... She hit pause, enjoying that vision playing out in her head. Would it be the worst thing?

“I think it’s done. Let’s take a look.”

Marc’s instruction jolted her back to reality. “Right. Okay.” She slid her spatula under the crepe, checking underneath. “Look good?” she asked.

“Perfect. Go ahead and flip it onto the plate. You’ll then spread the cheese while it’s warm.”

Rachel followed his instructions. Reaching for a knife, she dove it into the cheese and began to spread. Marc told her they were making a lemon crepe with fromage blanc, lemon zest, and honey.

Once she was done, he showed her how to sprinkle the lemon zest over the crepe. “We want to strike a balance—just the right amount of sweet and sour. French cooking is really all about balance.”

“How profound.” Her laugh had about as much bitter as the lemon. “I could use that.”

“Everyone can.” He grabbed the honey bottle that he must have found in her cabinet and handed it to her. “So, is this guy coming over helping you find your balance?”

Good question. She smoothed her apron. Will would be here shortly. With any luck, tonight could be the start of something really great between them. “I hope so.”

Marc continued to work on the soup, measuring out a half a cup of dry sherry that he must have purchased earlier because it hadn’t come from her pantry. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“It’s a complicated situation.” She motioned to the crepes. “I’m just hopeful that he enjoys my cooking.”

“It’s a good thing I’m teaching you the food of love, then.” He chuckled and kept stirring.

“Isn’t French the language of love?”

“Ever hear the phrase that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

She laughed. If Marc only knew that she’d recently hired an old man for the sole purpose of finding Will’s heart. She hardly doubted she’d find it waiting to be fed by anything she cooked.

But she was willing to give it a try. She turned the honey bottle upside down. “So, what do I do now?”

“Drizzle the honey all over. Give it a generous amount. It’ll bring out the flavor in the cheese.”

She squirted the bottle, moving it across the crepe. “Like this?”

He nodded. “You got it. You’re a natural.”

That praise made her feel warm inside. She always enjoyed learning new things. They spent the next hour side by side making different types of crepes for appetizers, entrée, and dessert. While Rachel continued to perfect her flipping skills, Marc showed her different ways to pair the meats and vegetables for the entrée.

“Oh, Marc,” she stated when they were finally done and all that was left was for Will to arrive. “Everything smells divine. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. There’s one more thing.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine. “I picked this up earlier today. I hear Twig & Vines Winery is the best in these parts.”

“No argument there.” It certainly was, and not because she could walk to the winery—and often did for wine tasting events, a benefit of living steps away.

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