It was a Sunday afternoon in June. The temps and the sun and the sound of a baseball game on the television reminded me of those meals I looked forward to every week when I was a kid. The inviting aroma of pan-fried chicken wafted through my grandmother’s kitchen and lolled through the dining room. Thick-sliced, just picked tomatoes mounded from their plate on the dinner table. In the fridge was a pitcher of brewed iced tea. The potato salad sat heaped in a serving bowl comfortably slathered in my grandmother’s secret ratio of mayo to mustard, a touch of sugar and a sprinkle of celery seeds. And biscuits . . . oh, my. I lolled about in this dreamy cloud of culinary nostalgia until I began to contemplate cooking for myself.
I started thinking about recipes. I started thinking about the great dishes my grandmother and father could whip up without directions using just their unique sense of proportion and seasoning. I started thinking about the food fiascos I had single-handedly instigated with my lack of any of the above. I sat down until the pipe dream of my cooking could cool and evaporate. Close call! What the heck was I thinking?
It may have started with my contemplation of mystery novels that involved cooking, some that even included recipes. Who wouldn’t love The Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder by Joann Fluke where the Cozy Cow Dairy milkman lies dispatched in a scattering of cookie crumbs? Or how about Glazed Murder by Jessica Beck in which our amateur sleuth opens and runs the “Donut Hearts” coffee shop very peacefully until a dead body appears at the shop’s door. Ah, deserts and just deserts in the context of our favorite treats.
If you’re a Chinese food fan, there is always Death by Dumpling by Vivien Chen, part of “The Noodle Shop” series. Coffee anyone? Honey Roasted by Cleo Coyle offers us a clever coffee shop owner matching wits with murderous chefs in the cutthroat world of restaurant startups. And my fave would have to be Deadly Inside Scoop by Abby Collette – you know that murder victim is going to be found in the freezer! And if you want to sample the wilder side of edibles, try A Half-Baked Murder by author Emily George about a pastry chef who opens a cannabis bakery; her beloved aunt becomes a murder suspect and our baker must disprove those half-baked theories of her aunt’s guilt.
As I contemplated these tasty reads, the urge to whip out a rolling pin and attempt the perfect crust grew dimmer until they were not even a speck on my event horizon. I could still savor the stories, the twists and sprinkling of clues without donning an apron and plunging into the too-deep end of a Kitchen Aid mixing bowl. I took a deep breath and started thinking more like my old self about cooking – and eating! Now where could I make reservations and get that dream Sunday dinner?
