Jonathan sucked in his breath. “A meal should never be quick nor easy!”
I gave him my best “teacher” look and continued. “Most of us have a day job we come home from, only to hear someone ask what’s for dinner.”
Chuckles, finger pointing, and emphatic head nods.
“So tonight,” I continued, “we’re going to experiment with different ways to spice up a traditional pasta dish.” I pointed to the two different meats on the plates in front of me. “You can go with hamburger, or you can kick it up for a sweeter taste by adding smoked sausage or smoked Kielbasa with a pinch of sugar. But the best part is you can cut the time by using your favorite jar sauce and tweaking it just a little to make it taste homemade.”
“Lies!” Jonathan cried. “Jar sauce is never acceptable!”
I could hear low murmurs starting, and I turned to glare at Jonathan. “This ismyclass. I will thank you to remember that,Chef.”
Jonathan’s nostrils flared. He didn’t miss the intentional dis of his title. “I cannot in good conscience let you continue with this farce. These people deserve better than—”
“Dude,” Stephan Collins piped up, “I’ve been coming here for about six months now. I’ve never had a terrible recipe when I leave. You need to chill.”
“Chill?” Jonathan asked. “If an artist is about to see a patron throw paint on a famous painting, does one just chill?”
“Uh, yeah,” Stephan said, “especially if the artist is being a huge jerk.”
I held up my hand. “Jonathan, I understand this may not be howyouusually prepare a meal, but—”
“I wouldn’t serve my enemy this meal,” he said stoically.
“I think that’s a little strong,” I said.
He looked pointedly at the jar of sauce.
“Tonight’s menu is all about cooking a delicious meal in under thirty minutes,” I said.
“Yeah, so let Mrs. Swanson teach,” Kimmy Caldwell said.
I turned back to my audience. “The hamburger and your favorite sauce will give you more of a savory flavor, while the sausage and brown sugar will give you a totally different sweet flavor.”
“Brown sugar?” Jonathan queried. “You mean granulated sugar.”
I blew out a breath. “Um, no. I mean brown sugar.”
“This is the most ridiculous—”
But Jonathan was cut off when Gilda stood up. “Do you want me to kick his butt out of here?”
I caught Jacob’s eye, and he gave me a sympathetic look.
“Kickmeout?” Jonathan asked incredulously. “Me?” He snorted. “There’s no need to kick me out. I will leave of my own volition, for I cannot date a woman who has such disrespect for food.”
I was so embarrassed, I wanted to crawl under the counter and never come out.
“Good.”
“Leave.”
“Finally! We can get on with class!”
“Pompous jerk!”
That last one came from Gilda Rossi as she grabbed Jonathan by the arm and went to forcefully shove him out the door. Jonathan threw off his apron, pulled out his keys from his pocket…and a bottle rolled out and landed at Gilda’s feet.
“You dropped something.” Bending down, she snatched up the bottle and proceeded to read the label. She then threw back her head and laughed. “You dropped your Viagra!”
