He began to stand on his chair. Stalwart. Strong. Almost as quick as his flash she reached out to him and pleaded. "If you don't sit down they'll know we're writing a Yelp review." Yet, she knew he cared nothing for her reviews, regardless of how witty they were. All that mattered was his food porn.
He gazed longingly at her as she paraded the coconut cake with homemade, organic Meyer lemon curd and Italian buttercream frosting made with fair trade Tahitian vanilla beans to the table. She had shaved the coconut herself; a dedication that only made her more desirable. He would have to chain back his lust before leaping upon her and the cake until she had a good shot for her Pinterest board.
They couldn't understand why someone would call that question into The Splendid Table when a Google search would have been more efficient.
She reached forward, until she could smell his hair. Until she could reach the spice cabinet. Until the tips of her fingers could swing it open. Until she was straddling his back. The ginger was almost in her grasp.
"You know," he insisted, "you could just wait to make your waffles until I'm done cooking the bacon." He kissed her on the forehead and at once she was filled with splendor and irritation. Her baking would have to wait. She walked away awash in the musky aroma of pork fat.
The story about her great grandmother's kugel had been well-received and she bathed in the praise of her readers as they shared their own recipes in the comments section.
He peeked into the office.
"Are you finished yet?" he asked with hunger in his voice.
"No," his husband replied, "I'm still working on this fucking market research section for the cookbook proposal."
He opened the door and entered, kissing his other half on the forehead.
"What do you want for dinner?" he asked.
"I don't know," he sighed.
"I'll pick up some super nachos from the Mexican place down the street."
The jam was the color of her favorite Hermes veau epsom wallet and just as rich. She smeared it over a crostini buried in Laura Chenel goat cheese and felt ready to conquer the city.
Pluot and Vanilla Jam
Makes 5-6 jars
4 1/2 pounds of pluots, pitted and diced
2 cups of sugar
juice of a lemon
1/2 a vanilla bean, seeded
In a large, nonreactive saucepan, toss the plots with the sugar, lemon juice, and vanilla seeds and pod and let sit for an hour to overnight.
Simmer the whole lot of it over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until the fruit is soft and the liquid thick, about 30-40 minutes. Skim off any foam that forms and save it for oatmeal or yogurt.
Spoon the jam into sterilized jars, leaving 1/4 inch of space at the top. Process as usual.
Post inspired by Steamy Romance Novels for Parents of Young Children, by Elizabeth Bastos.