They trooped into the kitchen and donned their aprons. Hannah glanced around quickly. There was Conor but Adrienne was whispering in his ear, and, with a look of surprise he stepped back from her. She gave him a gentle push on his shoulder and, shaking his head, he left the room, already putting his phone up to his ear with a disgruntled frown.
The six of them crowded around Adrienne’s bench where she began whipping up a hollandaise sauce, explaining what she was doing and why. Meredith chipped in with knowledgeable questions while Alan exclaimed over the explanations that Adrienne gave. He loved his science and always wanted to know how the mechanics of things worked. Fliss seemed happy to listen and learn, while Jason barely paid attention, unlike her and Izzy who hung on every word, terrified they were going to miss something.
After that they were sent back to their own benches to make their own sauce. Thankfully it looked pretty easy and Hannah started following the recipe without too many qualms, feeling quite confident, even though she did have to fish some of the egg shell out of the bowl. For once she managed to separate the eggs without breaking a single yolk. Happy with this positive start, she carefully measured out all the ingredients. As always, she was a good few minutes behind the others when she began to whisk them together but luckily she’d had the foresight to set a pan to boil on the gas ring. When she popped the bowl over the boiling water, she was only a minute after everyone else. She carried on whisking the mix and checked the recipe. What was it? Three to five minutes? She watched hopefully as the golden yolks began to pale. She’d got this. A few minutes later she examined the sauce, realising there were lots of orangey lumps in it that weren’t supposed to be there. It didn’t look anything like the smooth, pale, creamy sauce that Adrienne’s had made. If anything, it looked rather spotty. She pulled a face and poked at one of the slightly rubbery lumps.
What had she done wrong? She’d done exactly what Adrienne had told them to do and followed the recipe. She glanced around the room. The others were all lifting their bowls from the hot water and none of them seemed to be poking at lumps. Maybe she could strain it before Adrienne came this way. Bending down, she pulled out one of the utensil drawers and rooted around for a sieve. She found a fancy stainless steel conical one that looked just the job. Unfortunately, when she strained the sauce through it, most of the lumps stuck in the holes and stopped the sauce dripping through, so then she had to stir it to give it a helping hand which just forced the yellow orange blobs through.
‘You all right there, Hannah?’ called Jason.
‘Yes. Yes. Fine,’ she said, pushing her hair from her sweaty forehead and glancing quickly at Adrienne, hoping she wasn’t heading her way. Of course she was.
‘Oh dear,’ she said.
Hannah gave her a weak smile. ‘I’m not sure what I did wrong.’
Adrienne looked at the pan of water still furiously bubbling because Hannah had forgotten to turn it off. She leaned over and turned the temperature down. ‘It should be barely simmering. What’s happened is the egg has started to cook too quickly – that’s what the little lumps are. The cooked yolk.’
Hannah sighed.
‘Not to worry,’ said Adrienne, patting her arm. ‘You only learn by making mistakes. I always say you have to get it wrong to know what right looks like.’
Hannah frowned. Adrienne was just being kind, but as usual with her mind-reading trick she said, ‘Have you ever watchedBake Off?’
With a sputtered laugh, remembering her own cake-making disaster at work, Hannah said, ‘Yes.’
‘And do you think it’s the first time those folk have baked a cake?’
‘Well, no.’
‘No, they’ve been practising their little socks off. I promise you, the more you cook, the better you get. You’ll know next time. You won’t make that mistake again.’ She shot Hannah a brilliant, encouraging smile and, at that moment, Hannah would have followed her to the ends of the earth.
‘Come on. Let’s have another go.’
Patiently, she stood watching as Hannah started over, her hands shaking slightly under the personal tuition. It was especially nerve-racking as all the others had finished now and were leaning back against their benches observing. She could feel the sweaty patches under her arms growing as she concentrated on every aspect. At least this time she wasn’t worrying about being last – shewaslast! And, miraculously, when she whisked her hollandaise sauce over the low, barely simmering water, it thickened into a beautiful, soft lemon-coloured thick sauce.
‘Right, now season it, just a tiny bit at a time and then a taste. Then add more.’
After her second pinch of cayenne and a couple of drips of lemon juice, she nodded. ‘I think that’s it.’
Adrienne dipped in a spoon and tasted. ‘Spot on. That is fabulous. Well done, Hannah.’ She beamed at her, as Hannah wilted with relief on the spot. ‘Now, let’s try everyone else’s.’ She walked from bench to bench tasting everyone’s sauce, encouraging them to all try each other’s.
‘Mm, good job, Fliss, perhaps a wee bit more seasoning. Excellent, Meredith. Very nice, Alan. Not bad at all, Izzy, although I can’t taste any seasoning at all and, Jason, go steady on the cayenne but very nice consistency. Ah, and Conor is back.’
They all looked up to see him carrying what looked like a juice carton. Adrienne smiled, with an unnerving combination of mischief and Machiavellian cunning.
‘Right, we’re going to do a blind tasting. All of you bring your sauces to the front and then line up and turn around.’
Like obedient children they all walked up with their identical glass bowls and popped them down one by one and then lined up as instructed. Izzy shot Hannah a what-is-she-up-to grimace, while Fliss rolled her eyes and muttered, ‘Enough with the drama already,’ and Jason yawned. He looked as if he’d spent the last night few nights down at the pub.
There was a lot of tapping and chinking in the background until Adrienne invited them to turn around and approach the bench. Conor handed out clipboards and pens. Adrienne filled a tumbler full of teaspoons and motioned to two bowls on the counter top.
‘Right. I want you to taste each one and then mark it out of five. On the sheets you’ll see that there are five categories. Consistency. Depth of flavour. Colour. Smell. And how much you like it. This is bowl A and this is bowl B. I would suggest you taste both, then, before you mark them, taste them again. Off you go.’
They all crowded forward. Hannah didn’t feel so confident about this task. What if she got it wrong? She reached for a teaspoon, keeping her eyes down, conscious of Conor in his Killorgally polo shirt and black jeans.
Even in colour, the two sauces looked very different. In fact, if she hadn’t known they were supposed to be the same thing, she might not have realised. Gingerly, she dipped a teaspoon in the paler, thinner sauce and tasted it, watching as Fliss closed her eyes, her nose pointing up in the air slightly. Hannah wanted to laugh at what she imagined was a wine-snob pose, but concentrated instead on the flavour of the sauce. Sweet, zingy, and quite pleasant. She’d only had eggs Benedict a couple of times, but it tasted familiar. She took a second taste, closing her eyes to concentrate, licking her lips to get one last taste. When she opened them, she found Conor watching her. Clumsily, she grabbed a second spoon, to move onto the second dish, Sauce B. This time she focused on the sauce, ignoring her awareness of Conor. This was a little more golden with a creamy thickness and… oh my goodness, the taste! It was like a firework going off on her tongue and her eyes widened as she savoured the delicious flavours. She could taste the cayenne, the lemon, and it just felt so much nicer on her tongue, if that were a real thing. Inadvertently she turned to Conor, remembering him talking her through that first taste of whiskey. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘What a difference.’
‘Thoughts?’ Adrienne’s expression held a touch of smugness, as she turned to Jason. ‘What do you think?’
