Blackberry Pie Murder (8 page)

“Thank you, Norman,” she said. And then she reached out to cover his hand with hers.

Sally Laughlin approached their table and Hannah pulled BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

59

her hand back. She was a bit uncomfortable with public displays of affection. “Hi, Sally,” she said.

“Hello, Hannah. Good to see you, Norman.” Sally was dressed in one of her signature chef’s jackets that were trimmed in the same colorful pattern as the aprons the kitchen staff wore. Hannah knew that because the kitchen was visible through a large plate glass window so that diners could watch their food being prepared. “I heard about your accident,” Sally told her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay,” Hannah said and she left it at that. She really didn’t want to discuss the accident. She just wanted to forget what had happened in the rain this morning, or at least put it out of her mind for the present. There was no point in discussing it again and again, and talking about it might depress her and spoil her nice evening with Norman.

“Your mother and Doc are on their way here,” Sally said, changing the subject when Hannah didn’t elaborate. “She just called me to make sure you were here.”

“Mother and Doc are joining us for dinner?” Hannah turned to Norman.

“I’m not sure. They’re certainly welcome to join us, but this is the first I’ve heard about it.”

Hannah turned back to Sally. “Did Mother say anything else?”

“Just that they had something important to tell you and it couldn’t wait.”

Hannah and Norman exchanged glances. The phrase
something important
to Delores could be used to describe almost anything that affected her from the new acquisition at her antique store to the announcement that she’d actually agreed to something they’d suggested for her wedding.

“Thanks for the early warning,” Hannah told her. “We’ll expect them in twenty minutes or so.”

Norman gave Hannah a questioning look and she re-60

Joanne Fluke

sponded with a little nod. She knew exactly what his silent query meant.

“Please invite them to join us for dinner,” Norman said, correctly interpreting Hannah’s nod.

“I’ll do that.” Sally turned back to Hannah. “There’s a new dessert tonight. It’s Buttermilk Pie.”

“I’ve never heard of Buttermilk Pie,” Norman told her.

“I’m going to order it.”

“Isn’t that a Southern dessert?” Hannah asked.

“Yes. My assistant chef has relatives in the South and this is his grandmother’s recipe.”

“Please save a piece for me, too,” Hannah added her request to Norman’s. “I’ve never tasted Buttermilk Pie, either.”

Sally leaned a little closer so that she couldn’t be over-heard. “Did your mother like my entrée suggestion for her wedding reception?”

“I’ve got bad news on that score,” Hannah said, giving a little sigh. “I haven’t mentioned it to her yet. This morning she told me that she wasn’t that fond of salmon. It’s a great idea, Sally, but she’ll never go for it.”

“What did you suggest?” Norman asked Sally, and Hannah knew he was feeling a little out of the loop when it came to the wedding plans.

“Filet of salmon with champagne sauce,” Sally told him.

“I’ve been suggesting everything I can think of that I can manage with such a large crowd, but Delores has rejected everything.”

“But why?” Norman asked, turning to Hannah. “Everything Sally makes is delicious.”

“You know that, and I know that. Mother knows it too, but absolutely nothing we suggest pleases her lately.”

“Maybe it does please her, but the problem is that she doesn’t want to relinquish the reins,” Norman guessed.

“That’s exactly right. She doesn’t want to plan the wedding, but she still wants to run the show.”

BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

61

“It sounds like you’ve got a real problem,” Sally offered her opinion. “I just wish I had that salmon dish on the menu tonight. Then Delores could have tasted it
before
you suggested it.”

“Do you think it would have worked?” Norman asked.

“Maybe, especially if I sprinkled a little of her favorite caviar on top of the champagne sauce. That might have been enough to make her suggest it to you instead of the other way around.”

“That might have worked,” Hannah said, but she wasn’t convinced. “What’s the special tonight, Sally?”

“Coq au vin. And I also have a petite filet with wild mushroom sauce.”

“I’ll have the coq au vin,” Norman told her. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine, too,” Hannah said. She debated between the filet and the chicken for a second or two, and then she decided on the chicken. “Make that two, Sally,” she said.

When Sally left to go back to the kitchen, Dot Larson, Sally’s head waitress, appeared at tableside almost miracu-lously. It was one of Dot’s talents. She hovered unobtrusively and there were times when she seemed to materialize out of thin air. Hannah gave a fleeting thought to how privy she must be to private conversations and how much value that could be in a murder investigation. Both Hannah and Lisa used that trick at The Cookie Jar, but it could be valuable here as well. Perhaps they should try to co-opt Dot in the next murder investigation.

“Hi, Dot,” Hannah greeted her warmly.

Dot smiled at both of them. “Hello, Hannah. Hi, Norman.

Good to see you here tonight.”

“How’s the baby, Dot?” Norman asked her.

“Growing like a weed. My mother has her hands full on the nights I work, I can tell you that!”

“But she doesn’t mind . . . right?” Hannah asked her.

62

Joanne Fluke

“That’s right. Mom rocks him to sleep every night and Jimmy says she sings silly little songs to him about what a fine big boy he is.”

Hannah hid a guilty grin. On several occasions she’d sung silly little songs to Moishe and told him what a fine big boy
he
was!

“Would you care for wine tonight?” Dot turned to Norman.

“Hannah?” Norman referred the answer to her.

“Not tonight,” Hannah answered, and then she qualified it. “At least not for me. But Mother and Doc might want wine when they get here.”

“I’ll check back then. A mixed drink from the bar? Or water?”

“I’d like iced tea, please. And could I have a wedge of lemon with it?”

“Of course.” Dot turned to Norman. “How about you?”

“I’ll have the same.”

“Shall I bring the bread basket now? Or wait until they get here?”

“Now.” Hannah made a quick decision. She was really hungry, probably because she had been too upset to eat anything except the lime bar cookies Michelle and her mother had made this morning and one Cocoa Snap Cookie this afternoon.

“Give us a minute before you bring the bread,” Sally said, arriving at their table as Dot was about to leave. “I want them to taste this first.”

Hannah looked down at the plate Sally placed between them.

On it were two very thin slices of pie. “Is this your Buttermilk Pie?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s just a sample to see if you like it.”

Norman laughed. “I’ve never had dessert as an appetizer before.”

“I don’t think I have, either,” Hannah said.

“Sure you have. Haven’t you ever had cookies for breakfast?”

BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

63

“I did this morning,” Norman admitted. “I didn’t have time for breakfast, and Hannah gave me cookies when I came to see her at work.”

“No wonder we’re so hungry!” Hannah admitted. “I did exactly the same thing.”

The pie was calling out to her and Hannah took a bite.

“Smooth, simple, and sweet with a little tang. It’s absolutely delicious, Sally.”

“The nutmeg is the perfect spice,” Norman declared, cutting off another bite. “It’s just wonderful, Sally.”

“Thank you.” Sally waited until the samples she’d brought were gone and then she handed the plate to Dot. “You can bring the bread basket now,” she said. “If all they’ve had all day is dessert, they’ll need something a bit more filling.”

When the bread basket came a minute or two later, Hannah and Norman attacked it like starving wolves. The little taste of pie had definitely sparked their appetites. They split a muffin, devoured two slices of Sally’s peach bread, and ate two mini scones apiece.

“It’s empty,” Hannah said, staring down at the red and white checked napkin that lined the bread basket. “I guess we’d better ask Dot to bring us another basket of bread before Mother and . . .”

“It’s here,” Dot interrupted her, setting a full basket on the table and whisking away the empty basket to hand to her busboy. “And so are your mother and Doc Knight. Sally’s bringing them over right now. And here’s the wine. Your mother called ahead to order it. She said something about the fact that they’d need it.”

Hannah glanced at Norman, who looked every bit as clue-less as she was. “I wonder what
that
means,” she said.

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out. Here they come and they don’t look happy.”

! % { # 9 *

GRANDMA’S BUTTERMILK PIE

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the center position.

Before you start, prepare one of the following: Graham cracker crust
(either make your own, or buy

one at the store)

Shortbread cookie crust
(either make your own, or buy

one at the store)

9-inch deep-dish pie shell baked according to package directions

Hannah’s 1st Note: Sally said her chef’s grandmother
preferred this pie in a graham cracker crust. Personally, I
like it in any of the above crusts.

6 Tablespoons
(3⁄4 stick, 3 ounces)
salted butter, room temperature

1 cup brown sugar
(pack it down in the cup when

you measure it)

2 large eggs, separated
(the yolks in one bowl and

the whites in another)

1⁄4 cup all-purpose flour
(pack it down when you

measure it)

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon or lime juice
(Sally says

her chef’s grandmother used lemon juice in the

winter and lime juice in the summer—she doesn’t

know why)

! % { # 9 *

64

! % { # 9 *

1⁄4 teaspoon nutmeg
(freshly grated is so much bet-

ter!)

1⁄4 teaspoon cardamom
(if you don’t have it, use

more nutmeg instead)

1⁄4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
(if you don’t

want to wait for your buttermilk to warm up to

room temperature, pour it into a microwave-safe

measuring cup and heat it for 20 seconds on

HIGH in the microwave.)

Use a medium-size mixing bowl to combine the butter and the sugar. Beat them until the sugar is completely incorporated and the mixture is light and fluffy.

Hannah’s 2nd Note: Sally uses an electric mixer when
she does this. You can also do it by hand, but it takes a bit
of muscle.

If you haven’t done so already, separate the whites of the eggs from the yolks. Add only the egg yolks to the mixture and beat well.

Add the flour, lemon or lime juice, nutmeg, cardamom, salt, and vanilla extract. Mix them in thoroughly. The resulting mixture should be smooth with no lumps.

With the mixer running, add the buttermilk a bit at a time, pouring slowly and mixing it in until it is incorporated.

! % { # 9 *

65

! % { # 9 *

Use another bowl to whip the egg whites until they form soft peaks.
(Soft peaks droop at the tips when you stop

mixing and raise the whisk or beaters.)

When the egg whites have formed soft peaks, it’s time to

“temper” them with the heavier mixture. You do this by pouring a small amount of buttermilk pie batter into the bowl of whipped egg whites and folding it in gently, just until it’s incorporated.

Hannah’s 3rd Note: I use a rubber spatula to do this.

The object is to incorporate the buttermilk batter, but to
leave as much air as possible in the whipped egg whites.

Now it’s time to reverse directions. Pick up the bowl with the tempered egg whites and fold them gently into the buttermilk mixture. Fold only until the egg whites have been incorporated. Again, your goal is to preserve as much air as possible in the mixture.

Pour the final mixture into the baked pie shell, smooth-ing the top if needed.

Bake the Buttermilk Pie at 350 degrees F. for 45 to 50

minutes, or until the filling is lightly browned and barely moves when the pie is jiggled
(with potholders, of course).

Cool your pie on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack until it reaches room temperature.

This pie can be served warm, or at room temperature.

! % { # 9 *

66

! % { # 9 *

Refrigerate any leftovers.

Hannah’s 4th Note: When Sally serves this pie at the
Lake Eden Inn, she centers the wedges on pie plates and
decorates the rim of the pie plate with raspberry sauce and
lemon or lime sauce. She also brings a bowl with sweetened, whipped cream to the table. When I serve it at home,
I don’t get that fancy. I simply place a mint leaf on top of
each slice, and I double the recipe when I serve it to
Mother. Even though it’s not chocolate, she’s crazy about
it! Perhaps it’s because she’s always wanted to be a Southern Belle. And PLEASE don’t tell her I said that!