Page 189 of The Seven Rings
“Now I do this.” Cleo balled a fist, punched it into the dough. “Strangely satisfying. Now while it sits, maybe recovering from the shock, you can mince the garlic for the sauce. I’m going out for herbs. Oh, and I’m baking a cake,” Cleo added as she started outside. “I need a Bundt pan.”
By this time in her life as kitchen assistant, Sonya considered herself an excellent garlic mincer.
When Cleo came back in, Sonya looked up. “You didn’t say how many cloves.”
Cleo took a look at the tidy minced pile on the cutting board. “One more. Great, you found the Bundt pan.”
“I didn’t…” Sonya saw the pan on the counter. “I didn’t put that there, and that wasn’t there, which still gives me a little wow. But thanks, I guess that would be Molly.”
“She’s a time-saver.” Cleo washed her herbs, set them out on a towel to dry. “Okay, dough first. You’re not supposed to tear it, but cut it in three. Don’t ask me why. They make a tool for it, but until I have it, a good sharp knife does the trick.”
She lifted the dough onto another cutting board, and to Sonya’s eye looked at the pile of it with genuine affection.
“Slice it through,” Cleo murmured as she worked, “roll each into a kind of ball, and back in the bowl. One, two, three. Cover, and back in to rise.”
Once done, she set the timer.
“After this time, I shape them into like long footballs, put them on a greased, cornmeal-dusted baking pan, and let them rise again.”
“Three times?”
“Yeah, how does it know to do that? It’s fascinating.”
After getting out a pot, she added olive oil, swished it around, then set it on the stove, turned on the heat.
“And I really liked the whole kneading process. It’s meditative. You should try it.”
“Maybe. Someday. With adult supervision.”
In the butler’s pantry, Cleo chose a bottle of red, opened it for the sauce.
“Nice mincing, by the way.”
“I do have that skill.”
“Use your skill on the herbs now. Chop ’em up.”
Cleo added the garlic to the hot oil, gave it a stir.
She couldn’t claim fascination, but found it nice, very nice, to chop up herbs they’d grown themselves, to spend some time with Cleo.
She stopped to let them out when both cat and dog wandered to the door. And that? Also nice. Having a dog, a cat, a big yard with the late summer/early fall flowers blooming.
“Herb time, Son.”
“Coming right at you.”
She brought over the board where she’d carefully chopped herbs into tidy, separate piles, then looked in the pot where the sauce simmered gently.
“Well, wow, that looks great.”
Cleo swept all the neat piles together in the pot, stirred. “Now it looks even better. You know you can make the sauce from actual tomatoes instead of tomato paste. I’m just not ready to go that far. Yet.”
Sonya’s phone signaled a text.
It’s Hogan—Lotions and Potions.
It’s awesome! All the way extra. Go live!
