There were times Zachary Sullivan knew he had the best job on earth. He whipped some horseradish into the hard-boiled yolk in front of him before spooning tiny dabs of the filling back into the quail eggs. Then he nested the filled eggs next to a prosciutto on rye open-faced sandwich. His take on open-faced ham sandwiches and deviled eggs. Needed some color. He added a sprig of watercress to one of the eggs and took a step back to see the big picture.
Like Picasso on a plate.
He’d dreamed up the food in the empty kitchen after closing time at Escargot. In the two years he’d been cooking at the French restaurant, he’d learned that the owner preferred leftovers to be eaten, not thrown out. It was fun to play around with the ingredients, trying out new recipes and flexing his creative muscles. Something that he never got to do when Chef Louie was around.
The kitchen at Escargot was quiet now. A hint of garlic, brown butter, and the lemon cleaner they used hung in the air. The surfaces of the workstations lined up in the middle of the room gleamed. Along the back wall, the top-of-the-line grills, oven, and deep fryer stood ready for service the next day. Someday he would run a kitchen like this.
He snapped a photo of his dish and texted it to his sister Dani.
Zach
Here’s the elevated “church potluck food” you challenged me to make.
She probably wouldn’t get the photo until morning, but he couldn’t wait to prove he’d met the goal.
His phone chimed with an incoming text:
Dani
Looks great! A real winner. Wish I could do a taste test. I’ll have to think of a harder task next time.
Zach
Are you still awake? It’s midnight.
Dani
Can’t sleep. Working on food festival details.
His sister was the tourism director for Jonathon Island, a small community in the middle of Lake Huron in Michigan. This year she had devised a full plate of festivals to welcome much-needed tourists to the island. Jonathon Island barely made it through the pandemic and the economic downturn. It didn’t help that their main hotel, the Grand Sullivan, had nearly burned to the ground ten years before. Now that the hotel was being rebuilt, the town had begun a revitalization effort, and tourism was finally beginning to pick up again.
Zach
Good luck. Not that you need it. The book festival and the Apple Blossom Festival were successes. I’m sure this one will be too.
As he tucked his phone into his back pocket, it started ringing.
“I think I’m in over my head.” Dani’s whispered voice came over the line.
“Really? You sounded so confident at your wedding.” Zach massaged his forehead but couldn’t stop the smile. Zach hadrecently catered Dani’s wedding on Jonathon Island. The first time he’d been back there in many, many years.
Dani sighed. “Yeah, well, four weeks later and I’m not so confident.”
“Why are we whispering?”
“Liam is asleep, and I don’t want to worry him with this.”
“But you’ll worry me?” He transferred the call to his earbuds and stuck them in his ears, then began handwashing the bowls and measuring spoons he’d used to make the dinner. Chef Louie prized a clean kitchen. One of the few things they agreed on.
“You were already awake. Besides, I need your help.”
“Sure. What can I do?”
“Come home for the festival.”
“What? No.” He’d already done that once this year, thank you very much. He had the scars to prove it.You Sullivans think you’re better than the rest of us.Some cranky old man, one of the hotel groundskeepers, had grumped at him at Dani’s wedding.If it weren’t for you, Jonathon Island would never have lost so many tourists.And sure, the man’s words meant little, except they confirmed all of Zach’s darkest fears. He wasn’t accepted and neither was his family. After all, it was his family that was responsible for the island’s greatest tragedy.
“I just think I could use your moral support. I need this to go well. It’ll set the tone for the whole summer. Plus, you could enter some of the contests.” A rustle came from the other end of the phone. “Hold on, I’m going to move to the front porch.”
