Cooking and Books

You can read the story so far from the beginning here

“I’m not that good at cooking,” Hilary said. “I can do the basics, but I’m not brilliant.” She looked around the kitchen. “Besides, I’m not set up to make food to sell. You need certificates and stainless steel counters.” She sat at the kitchen table opposite Lord Peregrine and tapped its scrubbed surface. “It’s all just normal stuff here.”

Lord Peregrine leaned forward, charming persuasion in every inch of him. “But the food you make is so delicious!” He picked up another lemon and cardamom shortbread biscuit and took a healthy bite.

“I crushed the spice for the shortbread,” Bracken said proudly as she brought over a mug of Earl Grey tea and set it in front of Lord Peregrine.

“You are to be commended,” Lord Peregrine said, finishing his shortbread and taking another.

Hilary stared at the few remaining biscuits left on the plate. “You really like those?”

“Hmm,” Lord Peregrine managed through a mouthful of crumbs. He swallowed and took a mouthful of tea. “Indeed, they are extremely pleasant.” He smiled at her, his charm spilling out and filling the kitchen. “Perhaps we could come to some arrangements.”

“Stop that!” Hilary said. “You leave your charms outside my land, my lord!”

Lord Peregrine held up an unapologetic hand. “I have to try,” he said, eyeing the remaining shortbread.

“You can take the rest of the shortbread with you,” Hilary sighed. “But I’m not making cakes. I can’t. This kitchen would never be passed by food inspectors.”

“But it is truly clean,” Bracken added, bringing over a paper bag for the shortbread. “I cleaned it myself to proper brownie standards. And I also chopped bacon.” She placed the bag next to the plate.

“Bacon biscuits?” Lord Peregrine asked.

“We made tomato and bacon muffins,” Hilary said. “They’re great for Tom’s lunches.”

“And they would be perfect for the new stores,” Lord Peregrine said. “And you could cook there.”

“What?” Hilary said, before catching on. “No! I don’t care what the kitchen is like. I’m still not cooking for the new stores.”

“I wish I could cook for the new stores,” Bracken said wistfully.

“So do I,” Lord Peregrine said. “I know how diligent you would be.” He looked meaningfully at Hilary.

Hilary’s shoulders slumped. “I’m never going to get a moment’s peace until I give in, am I?” she grumbled. She glared at Lord Peregrine. “I should ward against you, just to make a point.”

“But how could I ensure that Tom and Bracken are being well treated if I can’t attend on your kitchen?” Lord Peregrine asked, looking like the picture of reason as he took another shortbread from the plate. “And I need another tea.” He glanced at Bracken. “Please.”

Bracken regarded him narrowly, then sniffed and refilled the kettle. “I is happy to oblige,” she said.

“I’m still not a brilliant cook,” Hilary said.

“You is amazing cook!” Bracken exclaimed. “And Tom thinks that as well as he greatly enjoys his lunches and dinners.”

“And I always enjoy dinner here,” Lord Peregrine said sweetly. “And the company is delightful.”

“What did I say about charms!” Hilary said. She took a deep breath. “I’m not thrilled to say this, but let’s make a deal.”

Making a deal with the fae was not for the fainthearted and Lord Peregrine took exception to Hilary writing everything down. “I can remember everything perfectly,” he said.

“That’s not the point,” Hilary said, noting down that Lord Peregrine would provide ingredients that would be considered of an acceptable quality by over 75% of the village. “Really we need good quality ingredients, but they aren’t always easily available so I’m putting in the bare minimum.”

Bracken nodded. “Ingredients matter,” she said. “I has been studying. The finest butter was in them shortbreads and it shows.”

Lord Peregrine looked thoughtful. “So if I want to have a good reputation for the food, I should supply excellent ingredients.”

“Most of the time you don’t need to worry too much about sugar,” Hilary said. “And we should get as much as possible from the Farm Shop. But yes, good ingredients help.”

“Why then are you not asking for excellent ingredients in your notes?” Lord Peregrine asked.

“You won’t always be able to get hold of the best of everything,” Hilary said. “The Farm Shop may not have it, the supermarkets may have run out and there may be no choice but to use a substitute.”

Bracken nodded. “We had to use an inferior vanilla last week,” she said “As there was no other in the Farm Shop and the supermarket had run out.”

“So what happens when a fae can’t live up to their side of an agreement?” Hilary asked.

“It isn’t good,” Lord Peregrine said quietly.

“As I am showing kindness in this clause,” Hilary said, taking a much needed mouthful of her own tea. “I expect you to be kind as we work through this.”

“Your kindness is transactional?” Lord Peregrine asked.

Hilary ignored him. “I need to see the kitchen,” she said.

“Auntie Olive and Auntie Ivy had everything of the finest,” Bracken said.

“I know that they made me replace the vacuum cleaner,” Lord Peregrine grumbled.

*****

Hilary lit the fire in the library. “I know that I could bring in a heater,” she said. “But somehow a fire in the grate feels warmer.”

Bracken shifted uneasily. “I has not yet properly cleaned this room,” she said. “It has not been used.”

“I know,” Hilary said. “It’s a shame.” She looked around. “If it wasn’t for worrying about a separate fire, this would be a much better place to sit than the kitchen.”

“You has a sitting room, a sewing room and a parlour,” Bracken said sternly. “And we still spend the evening in the kitchen.”

“We should come in here,” Hilary said. “I feel like curling up on that sofa already.”

“The room needs a proper airing,” Bracken said. “And a good going over before that happens. I is insisting on that.” She pursed her lips. “And I shall dust every book.”

“Every book?” Hilary stared at Bracken. “There must be hundreds of them in here.”

“And they all need dusting,” Bracken said.

“That can wait,” Hilary said. “Please will you fetch the cookbooks from the kitchen and my notepad and pen. I’ll start looking for cookbooks in here. We need to start planning what we’re going to cook.”

“Some of these books are old.” Bracken said. “They will make old cakes.”

“It’s worth looking,” Hilary said. “You never know, we might find something that becomes a speciality because no-one makes it anymore.”

“Like the scones with Auntie Olive and Auntie Ivy,” Bracken said. “That is an idea.” She scurried out of the room.

Hilary started methodically working her way along the shelves. Long, tall, bookcases lined two opposing walls, with a wide window at one side and a fireplace at the other. Comfortable armchairs were grouped around the fireplace while two wide sofas were nestled with their backs against the windows. Best of all, however, was a wide table in the centre of the room covered with a heavy tapestry throw. It was perfect. Hilary sneezed. Bracken had at least done a superficial clean of the room, which was probably a lot more thorough than the brief sweep and dust that Hilary had managed when she first moved in, but the books were definitely dusty. Hilary sneezed again. The bookcases were crammed, overflowing with ancient novels, bound collections of magazines, gardening books, history books, obscure biographies, and travel books. There were even collections of sermons which was an oddity in a witch’s cottage, but Hilary wasn’t going to question them. There were also dozens of cookbooks, from the local collections sold at church halls and WI sales to raise money, to the speciality books given out by marketing boards for oats or dairy or even potatoes, to the battle-scarred veterans of the cookbook world whose spattered pages told of countless family meals.

“I brought the books,” Bracken said, balancing them in a stack with Hilary’s notebook. “But you took the recipe for the shortbread from the internet.”

“I suppose I’ll have to start a special recipe book,” Hilary said. “Where I can keep all the recipes in one place.”

“That would be a special book indeed,” Bracken said with hushed reverence, carefully placing the books on the table.

Hilary put her own finds next to them. “These books need a good sort out,” she said. “They’re all jumbled up.” She caught the gleam in Bracken’s eye. “Not today!” she added quickly. “It’s just the cooking today.”

“There are so many decisions,” Bracken said, her face creased with worry. “And so many choices.”

“And Lord Peregrine was no help at all,” Hilary said. She pulled her notepad towards her. “How much did your Aunties sell?”

“I cannot believe that this person is considering rubbing a stain with milk,” Bracken grumbled as she dipped into an elderly book of household hints. “That has no sense at all. You then have two get stains out. First the ink and then the mark made by the milk and you need a good laundry powder for that.”

Hilary squinted at the ragged book. “That’s probably advice before laundry powder and probably back to the days when people would make their own ink.” She stretched. “I promised Tom that I’d make sausage and mashed potato for dinner. The potatoes are already peeled, but I need to get the rest finished.”

Bracken put her bookmark neatly in place before jumping to her feet. “And roasting carrots with cumin,” she said. “That is most flavoursome with spices.” She looked back with longing at the rows of books.

“Do you like to read?” Hilary asked. “You can read any book in here as long as you put it back.”

Bracken looked up, her eyes wide. “I can read any book in here?” she asked. “Even books that aren’t real?” She reached out to brush a tentative finger over a battered paperback on a shelf near the door.

“You mean, fiction?” Hilary asked. “Like stories?”

“Things that aren’t real,” Bracken confirmed. “The cookbooks are about things that are real. This is about things that aren’t real.”

Hilary looked closer at the cover. An over muscled, shirtless man sat astride a motorcycle, staring out from the cover while an underfed and underclad woman clung desperately to his arm. “It’s probably not real,” she said cautiously. “But you can read it if you like.”

“Thank you!” Bracken said. She took a deep breath and turned to survey the book-stuffed room. “I’m going to read everything!”

Hilary really hoped that she wouldn’t have too much explaining to do.