Eagle escorts Vinnie away, and I turn to Savannah.“What was that about?”
She shrugs.“There’s a lot I’m still learning about my brother, and…a lot I don’twantto learn.”She shakes her head.“But I guess it’s just you and me tonight,sis.”She winks at me, digs her elbow into my ribs gently.
I fake a laugh—if only Savannah knew how much this marriage business troubles me, she wouldn’t be making a joke of it—and we walk into the kitchen.
The kitchen is enormous—ridiculous, really.Much larger than the kitchen I grew up with, which was huge.The ceilings stretch high above me, beams of dark wood crossing overhead like something out of a hunting lodge.Warm light from iron chandeliers lights up the polished stone countertops that seem to go on forever.
I almost feel like I should be wearing sunglasses.The appliances are top-of-the-line with touchscreens and buttons I’m almost afraid to press.The island in the center is massive and appears to be carved from a single slab of veined marble.It’s surrounded by leather-backed stools with rivets along the sides, like something pulled from an old saloon.
I take a deep breath in.The kitchen smells faintly of cinnamon and cedar.
For a second, I let myself imagine what it might feel like to belong in a kitchen like this.
“There you are!”Star approaches Savannah and me and gives us each a hug.“Are you going to help too, Savannah?”
“I’d love to if there’s room for me.”
Star laughs and gestures around her vast kitchen.“I think we can find a corner for you.”She turns to me.“So, Daniela, what are some of your specialties?”
“I make a pretty decent empanada,” I say.
She snaps her fingers.“That sounds perfect.My entire family loves Mexican food.Although I’m sure you’re talking about Colombian empanadas.”
I blink.“I am.”
“Why don’t we combine Mexican and Colombian cuisines tonight?”Star says.“I think that will be delicious, and everyone will love it.”
“I probably won’t be a lot of help on that front,” Savannah says.
“Don’t be silly,” Star says.“We’re happy to put you to work.This will be a crash course on Mexican and Colombian cuisine.”
“I’ve had your Mexican before, Star,” Savannah says.“And it’s top-notch.Better than I’ve had in any Mexican restaurant.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Star says, “because we do have some excellent Mexican restaurants here in Texas.But I’m partial to my family recipes as well.”
“I have an idea,” I suggest.
“Well, speak up then,” Star says, smiling.
“How aboutbandeja paisa?”
“What’s that?”Savannah asks.
“It’s a traditional Colombian platter featuring pork, red beans, white rice, ground beef, fried egg, plantains, and an arepa.”
Star crosses her arms.“I don’t have any ground beef, which I know is ridiculous for a Mexican woman.But…” She snaps her fingers.“I do have some carne asada marinating in the fridge.We can use that plate to replace the ground beef.And we can replace the red beans with Mexican frijoles.I can whip those up in a heartbeat.They’re slow-cooked beans with bacon, chorizo, and tomatoes.”
“I have to admit that sounds delicious,” I tell her.
“We can serve it with avocado slices and homemade flour tortillas instead of the arepa.And I’ll whip up someesquites—Mexican street corn—which can replace the rice.We’ll keep the plantains, pork, and fried egg from the original recipe, since I have plenty of those ingredients on hand.”She grins.“We could call itbandeja norteña, since it has lots of elements of Mexico, which is north of Colombia.”
“There is one thing I know how to make that fits with the cuisine,” Savannah says.
“What’s that, dear?”Star asks.
“Tres leches cake.I make a mean one.”
An idea pops into my head—one that I think will pull the Mexican-Colombian thing together.I swallow.Should I say it?