Fudge Brownies & Murder - Culinary Competition Mystery #4

Chapter 4

(Amy)

The metal step treads boomed as Amy clomped down the spiral staircase. There was an elevator and another straight staircase that connected to the second-story classroom area of Clement Street Market, but Amy preferred the corkscrew route. It was just fun.

In the classroom, all of the vegetables were prepared. Spices were measured and hanging out in tiny glass bowls on the appropriate trays designated for each recipe. Everything was set for the Comforting Casseroles class to begin—with her leading it as the instructor. Even though she had been teaching cooking classes almost every week for the previous three months, she still felt like the ball in a pinball machine. Careening around the market had become her ritual for burning off the extra energy. She had a huge appreciation for teachers and their amazing ability to stay calm in a profession that would turn her into a drooling crazy woman mumbling into her coffee cup if she had to do it every day.

Of course, her good luck talisman—her husband—hadn't told her everything would be okay before he left for work that morning. He was in the wilds of Tennessee, and she was out of sorts. While he was probably hooked to a bungee cord on a suspension bridge over a deep river gorge, her heart was racing as if she was doing the same daredevil stunt.

Amy turned up the last aisle in the market. Riverbend Bake Shop was ahead, on the left. The scent of Sophie's custom-roasted coffee drifted between shoppers and drew Amy to the booth more efficiently than a voodoo love potion. When she reached the miniature coffee shop, she waved to JoJo, who was waiting on a customer, and slipped behind the counter. Sophie, the very wise owner of the coffee emporium, gifted all of her employees free coffee whenever they wanted it, even if they weren't working—a golden perk for coffee lovers like herself. Amy plucked one of the to-go cups from the stack next to the coffeemaker and filled it with her favorite beverage. She added a splash of cream and a glug of brown sugar syrup before popping on the lid. Simple perfection in a cup.

"You have to try one of these," JoJo said as she handed Amy a cookie wrapped in a square of thin, translucent bakery tissue paper. "They're orange thumbprint almond butter cookies. I ran across an old recipe for three-ingredient peanut butter cookies that I used to make in high school. I figured I could dress the cookies up a bit by doing a thumbprint version."

Amy nibbled the edge of the nutty, tender cookie with a puddle of orange marmalade in the center. "It's wonderful! I love orange with almonds." She took another bite, breaking into the sweet, sunny-colored center. "You know there are all kinds of nut butters now. These would be fun to experiment with using different butters and fillings."

"That's a great idea. If you don't mind, I'm going to steal it and play around with a few combinations."

"I don't mind—as long as you let me sample your experiments."

"It's a deal." JoJo took a sip of her own cup of coffee, which had been stashed on a shelf under the bakery case. "What's your class about today?"

"Comfort food casseroles."

"One of my favorite things, as long as they aren't made with condensed soup."

Amy shook her head. "I agree with you. That stuff is weird. There is definitely no canned soup in my recipes. I just love the versatility of casseroles—you can make them with pasta, grains, vegetables, meat, cheese...pretty much anything you want. Today I'm making a layered vegetable gratin and turkey shepherd's pie with sweet potato topping. If you'd like, I'll bring you a copy of the recipes after class."

"Thank you. I would love that." JoJo smiled. "Have a good class!"

Amy joined the flow of customers in the aisle again. She was only a few feet past the bakeshop when the deep, dark aroma of coffee was replaced with the intense smokiness of bacon. The Southern Gals booth was at the end of the aisle, an extra-long space to accommodate both the steam and chilling tables where everything from braised collard greens to ambrosia salad were dished up to Northerners who wanted a taste of the Southern. Amy almost dropped her coffee cup when she saw who was behind the counter. Of course, she wasn't expecting to see Esther Mae. But a ghost would've been less startling than the person who was dishing up cheesy tater tot casserole.