CHAPTER 1
“Here we go, opening day.”
Scurrying around the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, Ivory flashed a smile at Lisa, who was smoothing down the last of the crisp white tablecloths.
“Look at my hands,” she said, holding her arms out straight for Lisa to see. “I’m so nervous, I’ve got the jitters.”
They had both worked long hours for months to get to this point. Designing the building had been a breeze, but the detail of setting up a restaurant was more than either of them expected. Everything from ordering tables to appliances to decorations for the dining room had to be done from scratch. Anxious to get their dream off the ground, they were a bit overzealous in scheduling their grand opening. Lisa voiced her desire to push it back another month to allow for more tweaks, but Ivory convinced her to stick with their original date.
“I hope people show up. I know the Arthurs are coming. Mabel told me they would be here come hell or high water when I saw her at the store yesterday,” Lisa said as she cast a worried look at the entrance.
“The Arthurs are such awesome folks.” Ivory had first met Joe Frank Arthur when he appeared at her door over a year ago asking for healing herbs to soothe Mabel’s rashes. Smiling to herself at the memory, Ivory marveled at the turn her life had taken over the past couple of years. Moving from Chicago to Landow Creek seemed so unreal when she did it, but now she couldn’t imagine living anywhere other than near her twin. Their Grandmother Ruby’s choices kept them apart for over three decades, then the mind-boggling discovery of not only a sister, but a twin, filled a void in her life. Today, Ivory felt whole and at peace. Out of this reunion, Virginia’s Bistro at the Farm was created.
For what could have been the one hundredth time that day, Ivory raised her eyes to the heavens, put a hand over her heart and mouthed “thank you” to both of her benefactors: Ruby Tompkins for bringing her back here through bequeathing her the farm inheritance and Aunt Sister for the money to invest in her dream.
Shaking off her inner reflections, Ivory crossed the room to squeeze Lisa’s hand.
“I am so excited to do this with you.”
“Never in a million years did I think I could have all of this.” Lisa waved her arm to encompass the restaurant. Ivory knew she meant more than just the physical building they were standing in, but also the life they were now leading together. Lisa had both suffered and benefited from the legacy of her granny. Assuming the role of older sibling, even if by only a few minutes, Ivory was trying to make up for some of the anger and disappointment Lisa experienced after Granny died. Using her now ample resources, she included Lisa in every decision.
Following her sister’s gaze toward the open door of the bistro’s office, Ivory saw Jade stirring from her nap in the playpen. The toddler sat up, rubbing her fists into still sleep-filled eyes. Her curly mop of hair bounced as she shook her head and looked for her momma.
“Want me to get her?” Ivory asked.
“No, you need to get back to working your magic in the kitchen before we open.” Lisa checked the clock over the office door as she reached out to meet Jade’s outstretched arms. “Jacob will be here in a half hour to pick her up, so I’ll entertain her until then.”
Following Lisa’s directions, Ivory went back to the kitchen to complete details for the afternoon tea service. They had debated the style of their restaurant offerings and taste-tested multiple recipes before arriving at an elegant selection featuring fresh, local ingredients in a variety of combinations ranging from savory to sweet. Their concept was not common in this area. Most of the people of Landow Creek preferred hearty portions of meat with potatoes and a vegetable or two as sides. Iceberg lettuce was a step away from being a restaurant staple. Ivory hoped to expand their culinary repertoire. She believed if people tried her creations, they would like them.
Living in Landow Creek, she had discovered that her initial impression of an area filled with backwoods bumpkins was far off the mark. People here had wisdom, often learned at what Silas Wilson, her raw honey supplier, called the “School of Hard Knocks.” It held greater value than formal education, even though college degrees were not unheard of here. While each person set about learning what they needed to know to enhance their chosen livelihood, they also did not isolate themselves from the wider world. Ivory still felt surprised when she overheard conversations about “trips to Spain” or “climbing Kilimanjaro” and felt especially proud of her new community when she heard the correct pronunciation of bruschetta.
Ivory’s dream, about which she had convinced Lisa over many afternoon cups of tea and leisurely walks down the dusty lane, was to introduce a dining concept more metropolitan. She devised a tasting menu offering small samples of exotic dishes to expand their guests’ palate. Secretly, Ivory hoped news of their unique establishment would draw people from Poplar Bluff, St. Louis, and even Memphis, making Virginia’s Bistro, as well as Landow Creek, a destination experience. After all, if folks were willing to travel 10 miles off the interstate to reach their favorite chain restaurant, why wouldn’t they drive a few more to something unique?
Together, she and Lisa had debated several names for their venture. Ivory’s choices were always too obscure, like “Roots and Leaves” or too bland, such as “The Place.” Lisa wanted to name it “Ivory and Lisa’s” which they both giggled over. Jacob had been the one to condense all their ideas into one. When he offered “Virginia’s Bistro at the Farm” from behind his newspaper one evening, they instantly knew it would stick. His summation thrilled Ivory that the name included the establishment’s location, and type of dining experience, but best of all, honored both Ivory and Lisa’s grandmother as well as Jacob and Lisa’s little Jade Virginia. Usually among themselves, they called it the “bistro” or “Virginia’s” for short.
Realizing she had been daydreaming again, Ivory closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath to focus her energy. This was no time to escape into a private world of memories. Now she had to tend to the opening day menu.
A copy of Lisa’s hand-lettered menu hung on the wall next to her prep station and Ivory ran her finger down the list, double checking that everything was ready. Each table would receive a trio of plates arranged on a tiered stand. The top plate would hold tiny crostini spread with chèvre from Adams’ Goat Herd Farm, topped with a mound of fresh basil sprouts alternating with individual spoons of olive salad. For the middle plate, Ivory had crafted a miniature pastry cup loaded with Indian spiced chicken accompanied by bite-sized roast beef and horseradish sandwiches. The sweets plate held her most prized creations: cream-filled chocolate eclairs and macerated strawberries in crème fraîche. Each diner would choose from a selection of teas, including her now-famous blackberry leaf tea. Hours earlier, Ivory had prepped each of the ingredients and arranged her workstation so she could complete each dish to order. Freshness was of utmost importance. There would be no dried out, pre-assembled sandwiches or trays of crostini absorbing moisture in the walk-in cooler.
Just as Ivory finished her last-minute check, Sally Daniels burst through the backdoor with a shout, hugging first Lisa, then Ivory.
“Let’s get this party started!” Sally was as eager as any of them. Never one to let an opportunity pass to repay a kindness, Sally had agreed to help serve while Ivory and Lisa worked out the kinks of opening a new restaurant. More times than Ivory could count, Sally had reminded her of the day she would have crumbled if not for Ivory jumping in to rescue her when the cook at the Sunshine Cafe walked out on her during the middle of a busy breakfast shift.
Throughout the development of Virginia’s Bistro, Ivory had been careful to keep her friend informed of their plans and pledged to not be open during the same hours as Sally’s cafe. Not only that, Ivory had made sure she was not duplicating anything that Sally did, not that buttermilk pancakes and fried eggs were going to appear on her tasting menu. From what Lisa and Jacob told her, as well as Ivory’s own research, the nearest similar establishment to what she had in mind was the restaurant at Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Company, almost 200 miles away. It was not even a fair comparison, given that Baker Creek included a pioneer village and attracted tourists from all over. In Landow Creek, Virginia’s Bistro represented an entirely unique concept, lightyears apart from the chain burger joints, gas station subs, and pizza parlors dotting most of the food landscape.
The three women watched the clock together until 2:00, then Lisa went to unlock the door. Her face displayed disappointment as she turned back to the others.
“Only the Arthurs in the lot.” Her comment was still hanging in the air as Mabel and Joe Frank walked through the door.
Ivory rushed out to hug both of them.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she gushed.
“Of course we would be here. And I got all gussied up just for the occasion.” Mabel Arthur twirled the hem of her new skirt and twisted like a runway model so they could all admire her new purse, which matched her black patent leather Mary-Janes.
“Aw, you look beautiful.” Ivory said, squeezing her again.
“Well, I cleaned off my boots.” Joe Frank was not to be outdone. This brought a laugh to all of them. It was obvious he had put more effort into his attire than a simple footwear polishing. His shirt was faded from many washings, but crisply ironed and his jeans were so stiff and dark, Ivory caught herself looking to make sure he had removed the tags before pulling them on.
While Ivory returned to the kitchen, Lisa ushered them to the best table in the place near the window facing the herb garden. Regardless of whether they had any more customers, they launched into serving their guests. Delivering their menus with a flourish, Lisa stood by to take their drink orders. In the kitchen, Ivory added an extra berry compote to their plates. Doing her part, Sally refilled their tea as soon as a cup reached the halfway mark.
“Glory be, I feel like the Queen of England,” Mabel remarked as Ivory came out to offer extra thyme-scented shortbread cookies.
The rest of the afternoon found the Arthurs lingering over tea and, with a lack of other customers, Ivory, Lisa and Sally pulled up chairs nearby to join them.
“I thought you all would have a line out the door.” Mabel held out her cup for her fourth refill of blackberry leaf tea. “If this town knew how delicious the food is you are serving here, they would not miss it.”
“Thank you for that,” Ivory said. “Please spread the word. We’ve, well mostly Lisa, advertised all over. She set up a Facebook page and I practically papered the town with flyers. Next week, the Dunklin County Democrat is going to do an interview, but I think the only way people will give us a real try is by hearing it from someone they know.”
“Much as I hate to go, we best get home and tend to the cows. They ain’t going to milk themselves.” Joe Frank pushed his chair from the table. “We had a real nice time and hope you get a lot of business.”
As the Arthurs took their leave, Lisa announced a group of ladies were getting out of a car. “I think it’s the Bible Study group from First Methodist. Yep, looks like Mrs. Alfred leading the charge.”
Sally nodded with understanding. “Probably come over to judge us, but who cares?”
Ivory smiled as she returned to the kitchen.
Let them judge.
The church ladies spent their time looking around the dining room, followed by whispered conversation. A woman in her mid-eighties identified by Sally as Mrs. Miriam Randall sucked in her breath with a slight whistle of her dentures when Lisa placed the tier of plates in the middle of the table. Their huddle became muted when either Lisa or Sally circled to top off their Earl Grey tea with Ivory’s added orange zest or refill the tiny blueberry muffins that left Mrs. Randall’s teeth bright blue. Each time one of them returned to the kitchen for more hot water or other refills, Ivory asked about the reaction.
“I can’t get a read on them. They have cleaned their plates though, I’ll tell you that,” Lisa said.
“Ok, at least that’s something.”
After an hour, the church ladies departed, one of the group clucking her tongue over the bill, but outside of that, neither Lisa nor Ivory could guess their genuine reaction.
Six o’clock and closing time came sooner than Ivory was expecting. She flopped into a chair and put her head down on the table. When she finally lifted her face, she revealed the tears dripping down her cheeks.
“No one is going to come all the way out here in the country for tea and tastings. I knew it. This is a failure on Day One.”
“It will not be a failure.” Sally responded encouragingly. “We may just have to fight a little more to get the word out.”
“Look Sis. It’s only one day.” Lisa wilted under Ivory’s look, but defiantly stuck out her lower lip and continued. “We will not let one minor hiccup ruin our dreams. Now dry your tears. Let’s clean up and take some leftovers to Jacob. He can tell the guys at work about it.”
“You think those big lunks are going to want to eat these nibbles?” Ivory snorted.
“It’s good food and they will love it. Of course, they’ll eat those by the handful.” Lisa said, pointing to the tray of roast beef sandwiches.
This made Ivory chuckle as she pictured an enormous fist pounding down her dainty sandwiches. Lisa was not to be deterred.
“They’ll tell their wives, girlfriends, aunts, and grandmothers. You’ll see. If the men like it, the women will follow.”
With a heavy sigh, Ivory retreated to the kitchen to pack up a container of miniature roast beef and horseradish cream cheese on brioche slider buns for Jacob’s supper. Opening the new stainless steel commercial refrigerator, her heart sank at the sight of stacked containers filled with uneaten food. Pulling out the fillings for sliders, she piled mounds of succulent thinly sliced meat onto each bun, spreading an extra heaping spoonful of the cream cheese on each.
Why not? There’s plenty.
Pulling out the tray of silky smooth creme brûlée filling for Jacob’s dessert, she sprinkled three with sugar and lit her torch. Waiting for the crispy burnished topping to cool, she sunk a spoon into one of the extras. Licking the creamy goodness, she closed her eyes and wished there were none left for her to eat. Hours of slicing, dicing, stirring, and baking mocked her from shelves around the kitchen, even though most of it could still be served over the next couple of days, she worried it might all be a loss. Experience in the industry taught Ivory to label everything with a date and to do most of the assembly after an order reached the kitchen, so perhaps she could minimize waste.
Trying to keep the surge of panic at bay, Ivory wrapped the creme brûlée and tucked it into a to-go container. Taking a last look around the kitchen before turning off the lights, she choked back the tightness in her throat. Feeling immense disappointment at their opening day turnout, she secretly began to plan for something different.
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P.S. Have you read The Inheritance, Book One from Landow Creek?