I slipped into my jacket and uniform for the show, then inspected Jack’s—or his subordinates’—impressively organized foodstuffs, all labeled: a loaf of Julian’s crusty golden-brown five-grain bread sat next to the yeast, molasses, and other ingredients. The cereal and its ingredients were similarly laid out. Beside these was a platter lined with grilled Canadian bacon and plump sausage links. At the end of the counter, a crystal plate was adorned with concentric circles of fresh sliced ruby red strawberries, golden pineapple, and emerald green kiwi, all dotted with fat blueberries and raspberries. My stomach reflected on the long-ago peanut butter and jelly, and sent up a distress signal. Later, I promised myself.
Jack had left me a note: Goldy—I’ll give Eileen your love. Break a leg! J. I guessed I was one of the people Jack looked up to. Or was hoping to get something from, as Rorry claimed? I wouldn’t mind working with him one bit, if I could be sure he was a good guy.
Hopefully, Nate’s video would tell all.
I scurried out to the hot line with the first batch of ingredients. Would the bistro audience be disappointed to be receiving only oatmeal, bread, Canadian bacon, and fruit for their nine bucks? I didn’t know. Boots Faraday, now apparently a regular at the show, was seated serenely by the fireplace. So, unfortunately, was Cinda Caldwell. My heart lurched.
Arthur strode toward me, clipboard in hand. He appraised me menacingly. I felt myself blushing. Finally he said, “I suppose you know the chef’s gone to see the owner in the hospital.” He made it sound as if I had put Eileen there.
“Not to worry, Arthur. Jack left everything done.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes skeptically, then handed me the visual they would post for the menu. There was the usual Front Range PBS logo, followed by:Feel-Your-Oats Holiday Breakfast Celebration
Platter of Strawberries, Kiwi, Pineapple, Raspberries, and Blueberries
Skiers’ Swiss Cereal
Grilled Canadian Bacon
Toasted Thick-Sliced Five-Grain Bread
Butter, Jams
Champagne, Coffee
“You have to put that it’s Julian Teller’s five-grain bread.”
“This is public TV,” Arthur replied stiffly. “No advertising.” Before I could protest, he added: “Are you going to tell me what Rorry Bullock was really doing up here today?”
Startled, I answered, “She was seeing how the other half lives, Arthur.” When he hrumphed, I tapped the menu. “Make it ‘Julian’s Five-Grain Bread,’ and it won’t be an advertisement because you’re not using his last name. If you don’t, I’m not going to talk about the champagne. It’s too dry to serve with this sweet food, anyway.”
Arthur’s groan of protest attracted stares. Then he grunted assent and whisked morosely away. Fifteen minutes until showtime: I concentrated on transporting ingredients. The crowd grew more boisterous with each minute. A tech handed me the mike wire and I threaded it through my jacket. I’m almost done, I thought with an unexpected pang of regret. As challenging as Arthur and the whole TV gig had been, the thought of jumping into the abyss of no work after the New Year brought a lump to my throat.
And so I did the show. Without a single calamity or disaster. I realized I hadn’t thought of a single sexy thing to say about the food except that molasses was reputed as an aphrodisiac, and oats were widely used in the diet of the British Isles, and didn’t the Brits, after all, know lusty, ribsticking food? Finally, after nibbling on the bread, swishing my hips about, and taking an eye-rolling bite of the oatmeal, I beamed at the camera and crooned, “That’s comfort food for you. And doesn’t everyone want to be comforted and loved at this time of year?”
To my astonishment, and to Arthur’s consternation, the audience broke into spontaneous applause. Tears welled in my eyes as I smiled at the camera and Arthur made his wild Cut motion. The taping was over. The audience divided into those leaving and those staying for treats. I hustled out to the kitchen, eager to be on my way back to Rorry’s for a hot shower and a glass of some wine that Arthur would no doubt disdain.
The kitchen staff was clustered around a problem with the oven. I barely noticed them as I made my way to the clothing closet by the broken refrigerator. Feeling triumphant, I took off my apron and hung it up, then bent to unbutton my jacket. Then I sensed a movement behind me and my blood ran cold. Always have somebody with you.
Skiers’ Swiss Cereal
1 cup rolled oats
1 teaspoon very finely chopped orange zest
½ teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons dried tart cherries
2 cups skim milk
Brown or granulated sugar
Cream, butter, or milk
The night before you plan to serve the dish, in a glass bowl, combine the oats, zest, cinnamon, and cherries. Stir well, then stir in the milk. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.
The next morning, place the mixture in a medium-sized saucepan and bring it to a simmer. Lower the heat and cook, stirring frequently, for 4 to 6 minutes, or until the oats are tender and the mixture is thick. Serve immediately, either as it is or with brown or granulated sugar, and cream, butter, or milk.
Makes 4 one-half cup servings
Julian’s Five-Grain Bread
2 cups five-grain cereal (available either in the cereal or the health-food section of the grocery store) or rolled oats
2⅓ cups water
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¾ cup dark molasses
¾ cup milk
1 teaspoon dark brown sugar
5 teaspoons (2 packages) active dry yeast
2 tablespoons bread-dough enhancer (optional) (recommended brand: Lora Brody’s, available at Williams-Sonoma)
4 cups bread flour (or all-purpose flour), plus up to 1 cup more flour for kneading (if required)
2 cups whole wheat flour
Butter two 9 x 5-inch loaf pans.
Place the cereal in a large bowl. Bring the water, butter, and molasses to a boil. Pour this mixture over the cereal and set aside to cool to 100°F.
Heat milk and dark brown sugar to 100°F. Pour into a large bowl and stir in the yeast. Allow to proof, about 10 to 15 minutes.
Mix the cooled grain mixture into the yeast mixture. Combine the optional bread dough enhancer with the first cup of bread flour and stir into the yeast mixture. Beat the other 3 cups of bread flour and the whole wheat flour into the mixture, beating well to combine. Place the dough in an oiled bowl, turn dough to oil the top, cover with a clean kitchen towel, and let rise in a draft-free spot, at room temperature, until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
Add as much of the additional bread flour to the dough as needed to make a dough that is not too sticky to knead. Knead on a floured surface until the dough is smooth and satiny, about 10 minutes.
Divide the dough into 2 pieces and place them into the pans. Cover with a towel and allow to rise until almost doubled.
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until the loaves are deep brown and sound hollow when knocked. Remove the loaves from the pans and allow them to cool completely on racks.