As my fingers poise over the key board, my heart leaps forward with anticipation. I’m about to begin writing. I love it! I love it, like I love when I’m poised in the kitchen ready to prepare a new recipe. Another creative attempt at either delighting my family or sending them into a nighttime of dreams in Technicolor. (That can happen.) But, it’s that anticipation of stumbling onto something new that excites me. I guess that’s how I began to write in the first place:
Excerpt from Chapter Two – Floating Island – A Cup of Redemption
Before Kate’s first dinner with Sophie neared an end, the cheese board was passed, accompanied with a basket of baguette slices. Sophie’s mother, Marcelle, leaned close to Kate and asked, “You are interested in learning our cuisine, n’est ce pas?” Marcelle peered over the top of her wine glass as she spoke.
“Yes, Madame, I would love to learn what makes your French cuisine world-famous; your haute-cuisine,” Kate said.
“Our haute-cuisine?” Marcelle bit into her cheese and bread. A twinkle flitted through her dark eyes.
“Yes, but more than ‘haute-cuisine’ I would prefer learning the fine art of traditional French cooking.”
“Well, Madame, our traditional cooking is rarely considered fine, but we certainly keep a respectable ‘cuisine pauvre.’”
Kate was brought up short with this term and her face turned quizzically toward Sophie.
“Kate, ‘cuisine pauvre’ means ‘poor kitchen’ and refers to the traditional-type of peasant cooking. These are the recipes that have been handed down through the many, many generations and this is the type of cooking Maman taught me. As a matter of fact, we continue to use her recipes every day. Like this evening!” Sophie popped up from the table, disappeared into the kitchen, and then reappeared at the table.
“And for our finalé,” Sophie announced, “we have as the pièce de résistance, Maman’s ‘Floating Island’ dessert.” Sophie winked at her mother as everyone swooned. Kate’s eyes grew wide as what looked like a bowl of white cotton was placed before her. She picked up her spoon and with the first bite, discovered the delicate sweet flavor of meringue and orange, which lifted off her spoon and onto her tongue like a soft cloud. De-lect-able!