Page 26 of Nutcracker with Benefits
My blog combines my two loves: food and travel. I wanted to know about making real balsamic vinegar or how caviar was harvested, and that’s what my followers want to know, too. Based on my business plan, I build my blog around my niche: culinary travel.
“They have shore excursions centered around food. There’s one they do in Tasmania where you learn how to harvest shellfish and then learn how to shuck and prepare them around a beach bonfire. And another where they visit Nordic seaside villages in the arctic and learn how to smoke fish.”
“What’s the food theme for the Sydney Cruise?” Nash asks.
“Australian native flavors. It’s a bit general for the New Year’s Eve cruise,” I admit. “But it’s still a foot in the door. This company meshes so well with everything I do. Honestly, if I’d known it existed, maybe I would have tried to get a job there.”
Nash leans closer to me. “Instead of your blog?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it would have been a completely different path. I would have been working with customers and on someone else’s schedule.”
Our car pulls to the curb and stops. I glance out the window, and there’s a bright red door softly lit with a back-lit sign with Asian characters. There isn’t an English translation, so I’m still wondering where we are.
The driver comes around to open my door.
“This is where we’re going?” I ask, standing on the sidewalk as Nash slips out behind me. “Is that Chinese?”
“Yes.” Nash puts his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the door.
“Oh wait, hang on.” There’s not much pedestrian traffic, but I pull over to the side anyway. “Can I answer this email real quick?”
I’ve already got my phone out and unlocked.
“Sure,” Nash says and leans against the wall next to me.
Jess,
Thank you so much for the opportunity. I am very excited to be working with you and look forward to the cruise.
I tap send, and my email whooshes halfway around the world. I take a moment to squeeze my eyes closed, mentally fist pumping in excitement.
“Okay,” I say, and open my eyes. “I’m ready for dinner. But, Nash, I have to tell you, you’ve made a fatal mistake.” I cluck my tongue and shake my head disparagingly as he opens the door for me.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been to China before.”
Nash mimics me, tutting in disappointment. “Oh, Clara, you should know that there’s more to a country than the one region you’ve been to.”
“Okay, you got me there,” I say as we walk down a small hallway and board an elevator. “I’ve only been to the Great Wall of China and Beijing. What region is this food? Actually,” I pause while we exit the elevator, “what’s this restaurant called?”
“Fayá,” Nash says, pronouncing it Fah-yah. “And it’s Sichuan.”
A Chinese woman in a completely black outfit greets Nash by name, takes our coats, handing them off to another staff member, and beckons us to follow her. The space we’ve stepped into is almost completely black, and the staff nearly blends in. The walls and floors are black marble, the tablecloths are black, and even the view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows on the left is black. I can see shadows outside, and as we are led into the room Nash leans toward me. “Outside the window is a patio with a bamboo garden.”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, but I’ve seen pictures.”
While most of the room is black, there are notable exceptions. The same Chinese symbol from downstairs is repeated on the wall, backlit in red. There are small pendant lights hanging above each table, and the chairs are black lacquered wood with red embellishments. Everything is spaced out, and every seat is occupied. The room has a low murmur of conversation and traditional Chinese music, with strings and flutes.
We’re seated at a two-person table. Our escort leaves after taking our drink order and setting the black napkins on our laps. The forks and knives on the table are black, too, but the chopsticks are black metal with red insets.
“Why’d you pick this place?” I ask, folding my hands on the table in front of me.
“I got a tip from a friend who’s a restaurant critic. This place is new and relatively unknown right now. But it’s going to be big, and it’s already getting buzz.”
“Look at you, ahead of the curve. And, excuse me,” I hold up my hand like a school kid, “when did you become friends with a food critic?”
