On The Back Burner Part 5

"You're right," Mr. Jordan agreed. "I'll scrub this pan down really well and then tomorrow we'll go pick out some new ones.

"Yay!" Shawn cheered. "Now the next question is, do we have capers?"

"Capers?" her dad asked. "Do you mean those little green, round things that come in a jar?"

"Yeah. We have them?"

"No and, to be honest, there's a reason we don't. I can't stand them. I know how to make chicken parmigiana. Could we have that instead? We can put it in a gla.s.s baking dish instead of one of those old pans," he added, laughing.

"Way to go, Dad!" Shawn said.

"Dish is going to cook chicken parmigiana for the Kramer cooking job, so it would be great to try it out tonight!"

Their chicken parmigiana was delicious and Shawn decided she'd add it to the Chef Girls' book of recipes at the next meeting. When her father got home from work the next day, Shawn was just getting home from cheering practice. "Are you ready to go pan shopping?" she asked before he even took off his coat.

"Absolutely. Where are we going?" her dad asked.

"Park Terrace Cookware?" Shawn suggested. "They have nice pans."

Shawn and her dad stepped out onto Park Street, into the dusky late afternoon. Despite the freezing wind that blew up the back of her jacket, Shawn felt warm inside. It felt good to go shopping with her dad. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his down jacket and she wrapped her gloved hand around the crook of his arm. They walked down sloping Third Street, past the cozy brown-stones to the busy, bustling stores on Seventh Avenue.

A small bell jingled as Mr. Jordan pulled open the gla.s.s door of Park Terrace Cookware. "h.e.l.lo, Shawn," said an attractive woman with red hair who was working behind the counter. It was Carmen Piccolo, who had taught the cooking cla.s.s the girls took last summer. "How are you?" she asked.

"Fine, thanks," Shawn said. "How are you? I didn't know you worked in the store."

Carmen lowered her voice like she was telling Shawn a secret. "Technically, I don't. But three of the salespeople are out with the flu, and Jim, the owner, is a friend of mine. So I told him I'd help out a few nights this week since he's shorthanded. Is this your dad?"

Her father extended his hand to Carmen. "Will Jordan," he introduced himself.

"Carmen Piccolo. I'm pleased to meet you. You have a great daughter here."

"Thank you. I think she's pretty great, too. She tells me the pots and pans we own should all be thrown away and replaced by new ones."

Carmen put her hand on Shawn's shoulder. "Good girl. You can't make yummy food in crummy pots and pans." She led them over to a large selection of cookware displayed against one entire wall of the store. "This is our best line of cookware. It's what many professional chefs use.

Mr. Jordan picked up a large frying pan and turned it over to read the price sticker. "This costs as much as my first car did," he said with a funny, shocked expression on his face. That made Carmen laugh. "I'm kidding, of course," he said. "But I never expected to pay this much for a pan."

"They're very expensive, it's true," Carmen said. "But we have many other excellent pans."

"We want something just a notch down," he told her.

"I understand completely," Carmen said, walking toward another section of the wall. "These are the pans I use," she said. "They're still somewhat expensive, but I think they're a great value." She turned to Shawn. "This is the cookware we used in cla.s.s."

"These pans are really great, Dad," she told him. "Everything cooks perfectly because the pots and pans heat up evenly. And the handles don't even get hot."

"Sounds like my kind of pans," Mr. Jordan said.

"You get six pieces of cookware in this one box," Carmen said. "It gives you everything you need."

"Everything I'll ever need in one box?" Mr. Jordan joked. "Now that's a good deal."

Carmen laughed again. "I meant it has everything you need in terms of cookware," she said. "I'm not promising miracles."

Shawn was glad her father was getting along so well with Carmen. Her former cooking teacher was one of her favorite people.

"Now, is there anything else you need? Any special cooking accessories for this budding young chef?" Carmen asked, winking at Shawn.

Shawn turned to her dad. "Well, we could use a couple things..." she said slowly. "I love that mandoline we used in cla.s.s."

"Mando what?" Mr. Jordan asked, making a funny face. Shawn and Carmen laughed.

"A mandoline is a special device that helps you to carefully julienne, slice, and dice vegetables so they're all the same size," Carmen replied. "And if I remember correctly, Shawn also loved using the microplane zester!"

"Here we go," Mr. Jordan joked, rolling his eyes. An hour later, Carmen rang up their purchases and packed the new cookware and accessories into two shopping bags.

"Thanks for all your help, Carmen," Mr. Jordan said, smiling warmly. "And thanks for teaching Shawn to cook. You must be a great teacher, because everything she makes is delicious!"

"Oh, my pleasure, Will," Carmen replied. "If you two need any more cooking supplies, you know where to find me!"

He really seems happy with the new cookware, Shawn thought as they left. We got so much great stuff! "Dad, can I invite my friends to come over and check out the cookware this weekend?" she asked. He didn't answer her. He had a faraway look in his eyes as though he were deep in thought. "Earth to Dad," Shawn said.

He looked at her, startled. "Sorry, Shawn, I was thinking about something." She asked him again about inviting her friends over. "Oh, sure you can. When?"

"This Sat.u.r.day?"

"No problem," he said. "Carmen is nice, isn't she?"

"Really nice," Shawn agreed.

"Does she live in Park Terrace?"

"I think so," Shawn said. "Why?"

"I was just curious, that's all," he said.

Natasha put down the book she was reading as part of the research for her article on Chinatown. It was hard to concentrate because she just couldn't stop thinking about Peichi. She must feel so rotten, Natasha thought, stuck home alone, feeling bad about her grades, with no friends around to cheer her up. Suddenly Natasha had a great idea. Getting off her bed, she hurried down to the living room. Natasha picked up the phone receiver and punched in Peichi's number. Mrs. Cheng picked up and Natasha asked for Peichi.

"I'm sorry, Natasha, but Peichi can't come to the phone. She's still grounded."

"I don't really want to chat, Mrs. Cheng," Natasha said. "I called to discuss an extra-credit project with her."

"Oh, well, that's different." Mrs. Cheng said, her voice brightening. "Let me get her for you."

In a minute, Peichi came on the line. "Natasha! Hi! What did you say to my mom? She hasn't let me talk to anyone!"

"I only told her the truth. I had an idea about the extra credit project Mr. D. said you could do. Why don't you do a video report on the history of Chinese New Year? You can talk about which traditions have changed through the years and which ones people still observe."

"That's brilliant," Peichi told her. "This way I can take the subject I want to think about and make it work for the project I have to think about. Thanks, Natasha! Hey, do you want to be in the video? Maybe I'll make you a TV star!"

"Thanks, but no thanks, Peichi," Natasha said with a laugh. "See you tomorrow at school."

Peichi hung up and went to find her mother. Mrs. Cheng was sitting on the couch, reading. She sat down beside her mother and told her Natasha's idea.

Mrs. Cheng thought for a moment. "It's perfect for you," she said, putting her book aside. "But you must make sure that it won't interfere with your regular schoolwork.

"I won't let that happen, Mom," Peichi said earnestly. "I don't want to get behind again."

"Good. Now, you'll have to write a really good proposal so that Mr. Degregorio approves it. I think the first step would be for you and I to sit and brainstorm what will be on this video and how long it will be."

"You mean you'll do it with me?" Peichi cried happily.

"I can't film the project for you, but I'll help you plan it," Mrs. Cheng said.

Peichi hugged her mother hard. "Thanks, Mom!"

Chapter 8.

On Sat.u.r.day, the girls arrived at Shawn's house, ready to try out her new cookware set. They walked up her front steps, each carrying a bag containing ingredients for the lamb stew with couscous that was on their menu for the big Kramer cooking job. If was something none of them had ever made before, so they thought it would be smart to practice ahead of time.

They were all there, except Peichi. When they walked into Shawn's kitchen, she had the new cookware displayed on the kitchen table. "These are the pans we used in cooking cla.s.s," she told them. "And we got all these cool little things, too! And new placemats!"

"It's beautiful, all of if!" Molly said.

"Look at the Dutch oven. It's so big!"

"Is your dad here?" Natasha asked.

Shawn nodded. "But he's holed up in his office. He's working on a new book." She opened a small box that held her mother's recipes and took out the one for lamb stew. "It says here that the first thing we have to do is marinate the pieces of lamb in orange juice and garlic for at least an hour." They placed the orange juice, minced garlic, and chunks of lamb into a large bowl.

"Now what do we do for an hour?" Amanda asked.

"We can use the time to chop onions, lemon slices, and more garlic," Shawn suggested. "And we can listen to my new CD while we work." The girls began setting out their ingredients and chopping vegetables on cutting boards. Shawn put on her CD player, blasting the music. Soon the girls were dancing around the room.

"An hour is up!" Molly announced when the time had pa.s.sed. "Dancing is one way to make the time pa.s.s quickly," she added with a laugh.

Shawn turned down the music. "The lamb is ready." She checked her recipe card. "Now we brown the meat a little at a time in some olive oil. Then we take the meat out of the pan and add the onion, pine nuts, and spicesa"saffron, coriander, thyme, and c.u.min."

They cooked the meat, put it aside, and then added the spices. "Oh, that smells good!" Amanda said, closing her eyes and inhaling the savory smells. After the spices and oil had cooked for five minutes, they stirred in a tablespoon of flour and cooked it for one minute. Then they added raisins and chicken broth, and a pinch of salt and pepper. They put the lamb back in and added chopped tomatoes.

"Now we have to cover it and let it simmer for one hour and fifteen minutes," Shawn told them, checking the recipe card. While it cooked, the girls started cleaning the kitchen.

Mr. Jordan came out of his office. "Girls, that smells terrific!" he said.

"Don't worry, Dad, I'll bring you a plate," Shawn said. "Go back to work!"

"What do we do with these lemons?" Natasha asked.

"We spritz the lemon over the stew just before we eat it," Shawn told her.

"I can't wait," Molly said. "It smells soooooo good."

The doorbell rang and the girls looked toward it. "Could it be Peichi?" Molly said hopefully. "Maybe her parents have loosened up."

"Um... I don't think so," Shawn said, looking slightly embarra.s.sed. "I invited Angie over, but she didn't want to cook, so I said she could just come over to eat. I'd better go let her in."

Natasha, Molly, and Amanda looked at one another, shocked. "Is Shawn for real?" Molly asked.

"This is too much," snapped Amanda. Her face had turned bright red. I can't believe we worked in the kitchen all this time and now Angie is going to just swoop in here on her broomstick and eat our food! That is so rude. It's disgusting. I want to tell her exactly what I think of her!"

"I don't know if you should do that, Amanda," warned Natasha.

"Why not?" Amanda demanded. "Doesn't she make you mad?"

"Yeah," Natasha admitted, "but she also makes me nervous. I've heard that she can be really, really mean. A girl from her old school is in my math cla.s.s and she's, like, scared of Angie. I'm not kidding! You probably should be carefula"you don't want to get on her bad side."

They stopped talking when Shawn walked into the room with Angie. An uncomfortable silence followed as the three girls stood, staring at Angie, who was dressed in an expensive-looking furry purple angora sweater over a long, black velvet skirt and heeled leather boots. Her blond hair was held back loosely with a jeweled scrunchie.

"Amanda, what on earth is all over your clothes?" Angie broke the silence. "Did you actually spill that much food on yourself? My two-year-old cousin is neater than that!

Amanda looked down at her s.h.i.+rt and saw that it was splotched with large yellow grease stains. "Ia"I must have splashed the chicken broth," she stammered.

"We all get messy while we're cooking," Molly said quickly. "You spill a lota"even when you wear an ap.r.o.n."

Amanda looked at Molly gratefully and then caught Shawn's eye. Amanda's expression said, See how rotten she is? Can't you get rid of her? Shawn just looked away, as though she didn't want to be put in the middle of this fight. She went to the kitchen and, using her new potholders, picked up the pot of stew. "We can eat," she said. "I set the table in the dining room."

"Fabulous!" Angie said, heading right for the dining room.

"Fabulous," Amanda mimicked Angie and imitated her wiggly, nose-up walk. The sound of Molly and Natasha giggling made Angie turn around and look at them. Amanda froze, but it was too latea"Angie saw Amanda mocking her. She shot Amanda the nastiest look she'd ever seen.

"Watch it," Angie hissed to Amanda in a voice so low and harsh that Molly and Natasha could barely hear her.

Whoa, Amanda thought, startled. Maybe Natasha is right. Maybe I should be careful around Angie.

In the dining room Angie made sure to sit next to Shawn. "Wasn't cheering practice too hysterical yesterday?" Angie said, angling her chair toward Shawn.

"It was," Shawn agreed. She cleared her throat and tried to change the subject. "What did you all think of the school a.s.sembly yesterday?"

"I liked the part about the rain forest," Amanda said. "The tribal dances were cool."

"Oh, that a.s.sembly was idiotic! Soooo boring." Angie dismissed the subject. Turning back to Shawn, she began talking about the cheerleading team once again.

"This lamb stew is great," Molly interjected in another attempt to talk about something they could all discuss. But Angie just ignored her. The rest of the dinner involved Molly, Amanda, and Natasha talking together, while Angie spoke only to Shawn on the other side of the table. Amanda could hardly concentrate on what her friends were saying. And she didn't taste the food.