"There's one other thing. Mayor Bascomb dropped by to see you. He's at the barbershop now, but he's coming back after Gus finishes up with him."
"Did he tell you what he wanted?"
Lisa shook her head. "Not exactly. He just said he needed to talk to you about something really serious."
"I hope it's not a snag in the Winter Carnival plans." Hannah turned toward the door that led to the coffee and cookie shop. "He'll probably want coffee. I'll put it on."
"It's all made. I put it up right after he left."
"Bless you, Lisa," Hannah said gratefully. "Have I told you lately what a gem you are?"
Lisa gave a girlish giggle, and Hannah was reminded of just how young she was. Howie Levine, Lake Eden's only lawyer, had broached that subject when Hannah asked him to draft their partnership agreement. Hannah had cut off his objection at the pass by insisting that Lisa was a better worker and manager than most people twice her age. Steady, reliable, and capable of handling ,any emergency that came their way, Hannah was certain that she'd never regret signing over a third of her enterprise to Lisa.
"Sit down and I'll bring you a cup," Lisa offered, motioning to a stool at the work island. "I have a feeling you're going to need it."
"Because of Mayor Bascomb?"
"Yes. He was really upset, Hannah. I offered him a warm Peanut Butter Melt and he said he couldn't eat a thing."
"Oh-oh. That's not a good sign." Hannah gave a deep sigh as she sat down on the stool. Mayor Bascomb had an active sweet tooth and he was wild about her Peanut Butter Melts. For him to refuse to even taste his favorite cookie meant that there was definitely trouble in the making.
Peanut Butter Melts
Preheat oven to 375'F, rack in the middle position
1 cup melted butter (2 sticks) 2 cups white sugar*** 2 teaspoons vanilla 1/8 cup molasses (2 tablespoons) 1 ' teaspoons baking soda 1 teaspoon baking powder ' teaspoon salt 1 cup peanut butter (either smooth or crunchy, your choice) 2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork) 2 ' cups flour (no need to sift)
Microwave the butter in a microwave-safe mixing bowl to melt it. Add the sugar, vanilla, and molasses. Stir until it's blended, then add the baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Mix well.
***lf you like a sweeter cookie, add ' cup more of sugar or roll the dough balls in sugar before baking.
Measure out the peanut butter. (I spray the inside of my measuring cup with Pam so it won't stick) Add it to the bowl and mix it in. Pour in the beaten eggs and stir. Then add the flour, and mix until all the ingredients are thoroughly blended.
Form the dough into walnut-sized halls and arrange them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. (If the dough is too sticky to form into balls, chill it for a few minutes and try again.)
Flatten the balls with a fork in a crisscross pattern. (If the fork sticky, either spray it with Pam or dip it in flour.
Bake at 375'F for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to turn golden. Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove to a wire rack to finish cooling.
My niece Tracey s Favorite PBJ snack: Spread jam on one cookie and stack another on top. Mother likes PBFs better (that s fudge frosting between the cookie layers).
-3-
That's all you want?" Hannah was surprised when the handsome mayor of Lake Eden nodded. She'd expected a problem of gigantic proportions, but all he'd asked to do was meet Connie MacIntyre at the Lake Eden Inn at noon today. "Of course I'll do it, no problem."
"Thanks, Hannah." The mayor brushed a nonexistent piece of lint from his jacket and reached out to take a Peanut Butter Melt from the plate Hannah had placed between them the stainless steel surface of the work island. "You know w these celebrities are. If someone doesn't meet her and take her on a guided tour, she'll feel slighted."
Hannah supposed that he was right. Connie Mac was a star and she'd expect to be treated like visiting royalty. It had been an incredible coup for Mayor Bascomb when a member of Connie Mac's staff had called to say that she'd be honored to attend their Winter Carnival and bake the official Winter Carnival cake for tomorrow evening's banquet. Hannah, who seldom took things at face value, suspected at the "Cooking Sweetheart" hadn't agreed to attend this small-town event purely out of the goodness of her heart. One of Connie Mac's kitchen boutiques was opening at the Tri-County Mall three days from now, and promoting it at the Winter Carnival was a smart business move.
"Make sure you drive past the venues on your way to town," Mayor Bascomb instructed between bites of his cookie. "Then take her to Jordan High so she can visit the hospitality hub and see the shuttle sleighs."
"Will do."
"Then drive her to the community center and show her the library. Marge is looking forward to meeting her."
Hannah grinned at that obvious understatement. Marge Beeseman, their volunteer librarian, had been positively ecstatic when Connie Mac had agreed to sign copies of her new cookbook as a fund-raiser for the library. According to Delores, Marge had paid Bertie Straub a small fortune to cover up the gray and give her a new, sophisticated hairstyle.
"When you're through with Marge, take her down to the banquet room. She wants to go over the menu with Edna."
"Got it," Hannah responded, wondering how Edna Ferguson, Jordan High's head cook, would react if Connie Mac suggested changes in the menu. The food for the banquet had already been ordered, and Edna had done most of the preparation in advance. "Where shall I take her after that?"
"The Ezekiel Jordan House. Your mother promised she'd have it ready by noon. I called her yesterday to see if I could drop in for a quick peek, but she won't allow anyone in until it's completely finished. You know how your mother is, Hannah. She's treating this whole thing like a state secret and there's no reason she should . . ." Mayor Bascomb stopped speaking as the back door opened and Delores stuck her head in.
"Speak of the devil," Hannah murmured, and then she put on a bright smile for her mother's benefit. "Hi, Mother. Is the house finished?"
"Not yet, dear. I just came over to ask you about a very peculiar rolling pin I found with Mrs. Jordan's kitchen utensils. Hello, Ricky-Ticky. I didn't expect to find you here."
Hannah covered her gasp of startled laughter with a cough. Her mother was the only person in town who dared call the mayor by his childhood nickname. Hannah's grandparents had lived next door to the Bascombs, and Delores had been his babysitter one summer.
"Morning, Delores." Mayor Bascomb gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and Hannah could tell that he didn't appreciate being reminded of those early childhood years. According to Delores, he'd been a spoiled brat. "I've. got to run, ladies. My meeting with the steering committee starts in fifteen minutes. The cookies are delicious, Hannah. I'm going to pick up a bag from Lisa on the way out and treat the committee."
Hannah watched as the mayor clamped his hat on his head and headed toward the swinging door that led into the coffee shop. The moment he was out of earshot, she turned to her mother with a frown. "I think you embarrassed him when you called him Ricky-Ticky."
"Of course I did. That's exactly what I intended." Delores walked over to take the mayor's stool and reached out for a cookie. "He's been acting like a big shot lately and it's time someone reminded him that he had his diapers changed like every other child in Lake Eden. Now, about that rolling pin, Hannah. . . it's carved on the outside with little panels of designs."
Hannah nodded. "It's probably a Springerle rolling pin. They're used to make a type of rolled German cookie."
"Oh, yes. One of your great-grandmother Elsa's friends used to bake them every Christmas. I always had to eat one to be polite, but I never liked them. They were flavored with licorice."
"Close enough," Hannah said, not wanting to get into a discussion about the subtle differences between anise and licorice. "Most women who had Springerle rolling pins liked to show them off by hanging them on the kitchen wall. They were handed down from generation to generation, and sometimes the carvings were personalized."