Page 11 of Unexpected Pickle
When I return, Hex has taken the station that needs prep, which I suppose is good. Better him than to explain things to a stranger.
But Sonya tucks her hair behind her ear and says, “Well, hello, neighbor.”
Awesome. She’s flirting.
I scoot in between the two of them, moving the bowls aside and squirting the table.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I wipe down the area and measure out new flour and salt bowls.
“Learning to make crepes.” He frowns. “Is everything okay?”
“Just resetting this station. It got spilled.” My eyes dart to the woman next to me. Sunshine is dumping all the ingredients into a mix, bowls and all.
“I thought this was an adult class,” he whispers.
“It is!” It comes out more like a wail than I like.
Hex looks over at the mother-daughter pair. Sunshine is trying to crawl beneath the table, no doubt to wreck other stations. “Hey, I’ve got this.”
“Got what?”
He waves his hand at the room. “This. You go teach.”
I hesitate, but it’s already a minute past the hour, and all the stations are full other than one latecomer. There’s always one.
I take the dirty bowls and nod. Hex is playing the hero again, but I can’t do much about it. “Don’t let her destroy anyone else’s station.”
He nods.
I dump the bowls in the sink and walk to the front. “Hello, everyone, I’m Chef Jeannie, and tonight we’ll be learning something that is easy and fun to do at home: sweet and savory crepes.”
Jasper raises his hand. “What are crepes, exactly?”
This is better. “They are in the same family as pancakes, but without the rising agent, they are thin and flat, which makes them perfect for either filling or folding with toppings.”
He winks at me like he’s aced an exam.
Oh, this night is gonna be a doozy.
Sonya is making goo-goo eyes at Hex. And her daughter is on the loose.
Sunshine has made it to the empty station, but right as she climbs the stool to upend the bowls, Hex leans over the counter and swoops her into the air. “Back to Mom!” he says, and returns her to her place.
He really is going to help.
I try to calm my jitters. “All stations are taken tonight. I’m sure our last student will arrive shortly.” I say this directly to Sonya, but she’s not paying any attention, helping Sunshine make finger prints in the spilled flour on the counter.
This will be okay. Totally okay. Hex will make sure of it.
“We’ll begin by cracking our eggs into the bowl.”
“How do I keep from getting shells in it?” Jasper asks.
“Breaking the egg on a flat surface rather than the edge of the bowl can help. It keeps the shell from shattering into the mix.”
Jasper nods, and the room fills with the sounds of cracking eggs.
“There’s a small compost pot on each table for your shells,” I tell them, trying not to grimace at the strings of egg whites stretching across the stations. It’s the hardest part of teaching these classes. The mess. The cross contamination.
