The Book Club Hotel(64)

But right now she was all business.

She’d heard of Chef Tucker. Knew someone who knew someone who had worked with him. Rumor had it that his food was good but his personality was as appealing as burnt toast.

That had to give her an advantage, surely? Not that she didn’t have her own flaws, but she definitely wasn’t burnt toast.

She walked into the kitchen and took it all in at a glance.

The staff was frozen, panicked, talking to each other in low voices. As far as she could see, nothing was getting done.

Hattie cleared her throat. “As you probably all know by now, Chef Tucker has gone. So has Stephanie. Neither will be returning.”

Glances were exchanged. Judging from their expressions, this was the first they’d heard about Stephanie’s abrupt departure.

One of them spoke up. “But Chef is the most important thing about this place.”

“No. The most important person in the Maple Sugar Inn is the guest.” Hattie walked farther into the room. “When someone makes a reservation here, they do it because we’ve made them a promise. We’ve promised to serve them delicious food, in comfortable and welcoming surroundings. That’s what they expect when they book, and that’s what they’re going to get. Every person who works here is important, but no one person is more important than the other. We’re a team. Chef Tucker may have gone, but you’re still here and I know you’ll all do a brilliant job. And now I want to introduce you to Claudia. She’s a top chef from California, and it’s our good fortune that she’ll be working with us tonight.”

Top chef.

In other circumstances, modesty might have persuaded Claudia to argue with that description, but she decided modesty didn’t have a place in this kitchen.

One of the junior staff frowned. “Like a guest chef?”

“Yes. A guest chef. We’re lucky to have her.”

Claudia gave them a friendly nod. “We’ll do introductions later. The priority is to serve an excellent meal to the guests who are dining with us tonight. I’m going to change, and when I’m back we’ll discuss our strategy.”

She followed Hattie out of the kitchen and found her leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

Claudia wasn’t sure how to handle the moment. Shake her? Hug her? “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Hattie kept her eyes shut. “I’m fine.”

“Right.” Maybe she should call Anna. Anna always knew the right thing to say. “It was a great speech you made back there.”

Hattie opened her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really. If I wasn’t stuck in the kitchen, I’d be booking a table to eat.” Claudia patted her on the arm. “Get me these whites and then go and do whatever you do to relax. Eat cake. Take a bath. Whatever works. This is going to be great.”

Hattie swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Claudia smiled. “I’m a top chef, didn’t you know?”

“In that case I need to talk to Helen.” Hattie hurried off and Claudia was back in the kitchen minutes later.

“First things first. Where are we on the menu?”

Someone handed her a menu and she saw instantly that Chef Tucker had made everything as elaborate as possible, presumably to make himself indispensable. Or maybe to feed his ego. She’d met his type. She’d worked with his type. All fuss and foam.

And however talented he was, she knew the menu wasn’t going to work tonight.

“Eight courses?”

“Yes. Chef only offers the full taster menu. But there are a few problems.” The sous-chef, Helen, was back from a conversation with Hattie, apparently none the worse for wear, and determined to carry on. “There is no parmesan—they didn’t deliver the quantity we ordered, so Chef sent it all back.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

Great. “So no parmesan.” Claudia decided it was best to have all the bad news up front. “What else?”

“He did the same with the mushrooms. It’s a key ingredient for the taster menu.”

“Tonight we won’t be offering a taster menu.” She needed to pare down the menu, and she needed to improvise. And she needed to do it fast. She couldn’t make any dramatic changes, but she could simplify what they had. She scanned the menu. “We’ll offer a choice of three appetizers—two soups, one of them vegetarian, and the paté with the chargrilled brioche and plum-and-sweet-apple chutney. We need the emphasis to be on fresh and in season.” She was thinking aloud. “The spiced venison already on the menu? We’ll keep that. The buttermilk chicken, too.”

Helen was making notes. “We serve that with parmesan crisped potatoes. There’s no parmesan.”

“Tonight we’re serving mash. Swap out the parmesan for local aged cheddar. It will be delicious. It’s snowing outside. People have been out enjoying the winter air. They need warming comfort food and that’s what we’re going to give them. Where are we with dessert?” She flashed a smile at the pastry chef. “Shelley, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Before we move to dessert, I have a fig-and-goat-cheese tart—you could offer that as an appetizer or an entrée.”

“Good. Let’s add that to the menu.”