The Grounds Keeper

Chapter 17 The Girl In The Green Dress

Chapter 17 The Girl In The Green Dress:

Louis laid out two long thin plates in front of each of them, covered in a decorative assortment of golden fried items. There was a large patty of small shrimp and whitebait fish frozen into crisp, glass-like amber. The fish had been arranged to give the illusion of a whole school swimming in the same direction, above a reef made of shredded carrot, burdock root, and thinly sliced onions. It looked like an art piece captured in crisp batter. Next were two thinly sliced crisps of lotus root that brought a darker, earthier tone to contrast the lively tempura crust. Beside them sat a large panko-crusted prawn cutlet, and lastly, a perfectly layered stack of eggplant, pumpkin, and zucchini, each individually fried and arranged into a flower atop a bed of fragrant shiso leaves.

Not a drop of residual oil stained the platter. The man must have changed the oil for every fry. A saucer of translucent black tempura tare sauce was placed in front of each of them.

Louis stood and bowed. "I will return with the sparkling sake for this course."

Eathon must have unconsciously made a face because Tatzurie raised a hand to stop Louis. "How about you pick the drink for this round? Do you have any suggestions for fried foods?"

Eathon offered an awkward smile. "No, no, I'm fine with more rice wine."

Tatzurie laughed and gestured to her plate. "My food's getting cold, Eathon. Pick something quickly."

He nodded and turned to Louis. "Do you happen to have any Vermentino?"

Louis returned soon after with a bucket of ice and two delicate, long-stemmed glasses. Eathon closed his eyes and breathed in the aroma of chamomile and daffodils. They clinked glasses and took a sip.

Vermentino is the cornerstone of Sardinian white wine. The flavours of granny smith apple, lime, and orange blossom exploded over the tongue, followed by a gentle bitterness—green almonds dipped in salt.

The first bite of tempura was a perfect textural contrast. The pumpkin was sweet and creamy; its shell shattered like fine glass. The zucchini had a mild bitterness, the eggplant a silky texture. The prawn's thick crumb matched its juicy flesh. The whitebait reef delivered umami and a subtle bitterness that harmonized with the wine.

"What do you think so far? Have you ever had anything like this before?" Tatzurie asked.

"Surprisingly, yes. During spring, my father would make a risotto bianco filled with Pecorino di Sardo. We'd cool it down, roll it into balls, then stuff them into zucchini flowers and fry them."

Tatzurie sipped her wine, her cheeks flushed. "That sounds delightful. You have to cook for me one of these days."

Eathon raised an eyebrow smugly. "Usually the lady tries to impress the man with her cooking. Looks like the only thing you know how to make is reservations."

She tossed her napkin at him. "Why would I cook when I have suckers like you to spoil me? Our next dinner's on you. I expect Sardinian fare in all its glory."

Louis returned and placed a cast iron teapot on a mat in the center of the table, followed by two small bowls. "I present to you my take on Ochazuke."

Eathon looked into the bowl. A green orb melted under the hot broth Louis poured, releasing green tea and dashi. A disk of rice speckled in red lay beneath, topped with scallops, cold-smoked salmon, and glistening salmon roe.

"The orb was made of weaved green tea moss..."

Eathon took a spoonful. It was delicate, layered, clean, and brilliant.

"This is incomparable. Our fish soup is far richer, almost dirty. This is so far ahead, it's comical."

Tatzurie lifted her bowl to her lips. "This is a dish for the poor. Most delicacies start that way."

The next course arrived in a jewelry box, revealing spherical sushi topped with fish, decorated with stunning precision. Louis announced, "My version of Temari sushi."

"Louis, this is a bloody work of art. Thank you," said Eathon.

"Thank you, Mr. Lorenzo. Would you be interested in another bottle?"

Tatzurie raised her hand. "French boy, pick us a wine."

Louis suggested a Chablis. Eathon frowned. "Are you sure we can do another bottle, Tatz?"

"Party pooper." She waved Louis off.

"You know, you could be nicer to people," Eathon said.

"This world operates on business. There's very little room for kindness."

Eathon countered with a quote from his father about dignity and manners. Tatzurie reflected on her father's ideals of duty and hierarchy.

To lighten the mood, Eathon bumped her hand, launching a sushi ball into the air and catching it in his mouth—then choking on the wasabi. She laughed and stole one of his in return.

They teased and bantered as Louis returned with the next course: wagyu rib, grilled on a hot stone and paired with a rich béarnaise sauce. The meat shimmered, and the smell alone was intoxicating. Eathon had never tasted real beef steak until now.

Louis brought a Syrah Viognier. The wine was deep, purplish-black, and strong.

They ate from the same platter, dipping beef cubes into the sauce. Eathon caught her eye across the table.

"What are you looking at?"

"I think you are really awesome, Tatz. Thanks for sharing this."

She blushed. "You're welcome."

Dessert arrived: Japanese cheesecake and matcha ice cream.

Eathon stretched and offered his hand. "Dinner is on me."

"Didn't you hear the man? I already paid. Save your money for a better date."

"I get a next time, do I?"

She smirked. "That's still to be seen."

They walked outside into the moonlit night.

"What now? No other adventures?"

Eathon spotted lights in the square. "There's something going on in town. The night's still young. Would the lady care for a night out?"

She curtsied. "Your time is always welcome, Master Lorenzo."

Hand in hand, they ran down the hill, into the lights and laughter of the festival.