Summer in France || 𝖩𝖤𝖭𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖠 ✔︎

twelve

Let the beef simmer on a low heat for about ninety minutes. Jennie lifted the lid on the heavy cast-iron pan as she read the recipe. So far, cooking had been a lot harder than she had anticipated, and she’d been doubting herself every step of the way. Apart from that, the mess that came with trying to do anything food related was simply astonishing. During a hint of panic in the middle of the day, she had tried to order pre-made food to be delivered, but all the local restaurants were fully booked with orders.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one in a food panic. She took the bread dough out of the fridge, removed the plastic wrap and poked it. She had no idea whether it was ready to go into the oven or not. Why did they always make it so complicated in recipes? What did ‘slight bounce’ even mean? Why not just say; ‘The dough should feel like an older woman’s saggy tits’, or ‘The dough should feel like your thigh after a night of heavy drinking’? At least she would know if she was on the right track.

She tried to arrange the dough into a round shape, put it in the oven and said a prayer for a successful outcome. Why did I think cooking would be a good idea? This is going to be a disaster. She looked around the kitchen, not sure if it was too early to start on the salad. Maybe laying the table would be a better call. Instant results always made her feel better.

Jennie covered the wooden table on the patio outside the kitchen with a white cloth and laid it with plates, cutlery and glasses. Then she unpacked the flowers she’d bought at the market and divided them over three vases which she spread evenly over the surface. In between, she placed salt and pepper grinders and small bowls of olives. At least she’d been smart enough to buy them. If only I’d bought the bread too, or everything for that matter.

Jennie hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything all day. Her flirtatious conversations with Lisa were all she could think about. Why hadn’t Lisa kissed her yet? She wanted to, Jennie was sure of that. She could feel the tension between them growing, the more time they spent together. Was Lisa waiting for her to make the first move? She took a step back and inspected the table setting.

It looked respectable, but she’d forgotten to buy more candles, after using up the ones in the house. She searched the cupboards in the hallway and the living room but didn’t manage to find any. There was a funny smell coming from the pan on the stove. Perhaps that was the caramelization they mentioned in the recipe, she thought, although technically, that should have happened in the early stages, when she browned the onions. She read through the recipe one more time.
Leave the lid on and let the beef simmer on a low heat for about ninety minutes.

Does that mean I can’t take the lid off to check? Just in case, she left it on and searched for her salad ingredients, wondering why the hell she was able to close multi-million dollar deals, but wasn’t capable of cooking a simple meal.
***

Lisa wiped her muddy hands on her overalls and sat down on the edge of the fountain in the Royal Gardens of Monaco. She calculated their progress against the day’s schedule, which entailed re-scaping the flower beds. It had taken her longer to design the layout of the garden than it would to create it, with three rejects on the first drafts. But that was nothing new. Her clients always had a certain picture in their minds, and if she wanted to convince them it would be better otherwise, it was a long process of towing and throwing, especially with clients as big as the princely family.

But all the hard work had been worth it, and now they were in the exciting phase of bringing it all to life. Lisa was loving every minute of it. Despite their setback of overnight rainfall - there had been a lot of that lately - it was coming along nicely. The driveway was down, the base of the fountain on the small roundabout, which would be the focal point of the garden, was laid, and the trees were planted.