Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
And I half-assed that post.
That first post.
I wish I could delete it and begin again, but I already have over five thousand likes, which has earned me another fifty bucks. I’m up to nearly fifty thousand followers, and they’re responding.
Still, I feel like I did a half-assed job.
No longer.
Tomorrow’s post will be perfect. Three posts per week. I’ll do Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday. People are more active on social media on the weekends.
Plus, I need to do regular posts as well. The public needs to see me as a real person, not just as the face of Susie Girl.
What better way to do that than to show them as I cook a meal?
Addison is right. I’m the face of discount cosmetics. Oh well. I can at least be a normal person, right? Maybe that’s the key. If a nobody like me can win the heart of Braden Black, anyone can.
Ugh. Not a good thought. I erase it from my mind.
Now, on to dinner.
Problem number one—I have no idea where anything is in Braden’s kitchen.
I open my mouth to call for Marilyn but then decide against it. I’ll find everything myself. Sure, it’ll take me longer, but what the heck? I open and close cupboards until I find what I’m looking for.
The food processer.
Of course Braden has a top-of-the-line Cuisinart.
I plug in the appliance and mince my celery and onion. Into a cast-iron skillet they go, along with a stick of butter.
Yeah, shrimp étouffée isn’t exactly good for the cholesterol, but it’s delicious. A recipe I learned from my mother, who loves Cajun cooking. She’s a wonderful cook and baker.
God, my mother.
I really do have to tell her and my father what’s going on in my life.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow is Sunday. I’ll give them a call.
For now, I’ll concentrate on this amazing meal I’m making for Braden.
I snap a photo of the celery and onion simmering in the cast-iron pan. I’ll document the process in pictures, right up to the finished product. At least my followers will have something interesting to see tonight, since my Susie Girl post is bound to flop.
I can’t begin the étouffée until Christopher returns with the peppers, so I get out the eggs and cream for the chocolate mousse I plan for dessert. In the corner is a KitchenAid stand mixer. Now, where is the whip? I open drawer after drawer until I find it. Then I separate the eggs and whip the whites. I snap another photo.
Christopher returns with my groceries, and I melt the semisweet chocolate in a double boiler over low heat. Once it’s cooled, I add the cream, a touch of vanilla, and then fold it into the egg whites.
I smile. My mousse turns out perfectly fluffy…and delicious after a taste test. I gently spoon it into parfait glasses, snap a quick pic, and set them back in the refrigerator.
Back to my étouffée. I rinse, cut, and process the peppers, and then add them to the skillet. Time to turn on the heat. While my étouffée sauce is cooking and reducing, I snap a photo. Then I open the door to the walk-in pantry and find a bag of long-grain rice.
Mmm. The aroma of my étouffée makes my mouth water.
I’m pleased with myself.
And that’s a welcome feeling after most of today.
Marilyn pops her head into the kitchen. “Smells amazing! Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Thanks, but no.” I want this to be my gift to Braden this evening.
Now, for a wine with dinner…
Braden has a refrigerated wine cabinet in the kitchen and a wine rack in the dining room. Maybe I need Marilyn’s help after all. I’m not sure how to choose a wine. I tend to drink red with everything, but Braden did order a white with our oysters and seafood the first time we dined together. Perhaps he’d prefer white with shrimp.
I run my fingertips over the green bottles in the wine rack. Syrah. Too dark for shrimp. Beaujolais. That’s a light red that’s drunk young. Could work, but I’m not sure.
Light bulb moment.
I’ll ask Braden to choose the wine.
Perfect.
But we’ll start with Wild Turkey neat, of course.
Crap! That means I should have an appetizer with the bourbon.
Back to the kitchen, where I rummage through the pantry while my étouffée simmers. What will go nicely with my spicy entree? It’s not like I have the ingredients to make alligator bites or boudin balls, and I don’t even like the latter.
A bag of raw almonds catches my eye. Perfect. I’ll pan roast them with some Cajun seasoning, and they’ll be delicious with our Wild Turkey.
I find another pan, begin the process, and then check the étouffée. It’s ready for the shrimp. I add it, give everything a quick stir, and let it continue to simmer. Time to begin the rice, as well. I snap two more photos.