Sour Apples (35 page)

Read Sour Apples Online

Authors: Sheila Connolly

Tags: #cozy

Seth laughed. “Me? No way—I’ll stop at selectman. Even if you start out with the best of intentions, I think the political process changes you, and not for the better. I’m happy where I am.”

They were passing the new orchard, and they stopped to admire it. “Looks good, doesn’t it? I’m glad there are some things that don’t change. Not much, at least. I know there are new techniques for grafting and new crossbreeds and all that, but there’s something basic about growing food. And it won’t let you get away with lies and shortcuts either. It’ll show, quick enough. What’s going to happen with the Truesdell farm?”

“We take the town land back. I’ll make sure Rick follows through with his promise to clean up that acreage, so if someone takes it over they’ll have a fresh start. The farm? Depends on what kind of wills the Truesdells left. Actually there’s increasing interest in managing small farms these days, so I’d bet someone will want it.”

“That would be nice. And I’ll make more of an effort to get to know any new farmers who move in around here, and help them if I can.” Meg looked at the orchard again and leaned against Seth. “Seth, I’m glad we did this together. Right now it seems like the most real thing we’ve accomplished all week. I don’t know why I felt so reluctant to accept your offer to use your land. I guess it seemed like a big step. Like saying we’re going to be together for a long time.”

He turned her to face him. “Aren’t we?”

That was the real question, Meg realized. All her hesitations about putting in the new orchard—that had been just a smoke screen, hadn’t it? Planting trees was a long-term commitment, because they took so much time to grow and to produce. Maybe she had been afraid of making that kind of commitment to Seth, but she couldn’t find any regrets. “Yes, we are.”

Lydia could wait.

32

The unpredictable mid-April weather had cooperated for Rick Sainsbury’s Patriots’ Day press conference. A platform had been set up at the upper end of the Granford green, with Gran’s restaurant providing a scenic backdrop. Meg scanned the crowd: not huge, but a good turnout for midday on a Monday. Of course, not everyone in the audience was a Granford native, and the press—cameramen and newscasters—represented a substantial portion of the crowd, hoping to catch the noon news broadcasts.

The dais on the platform was empty at the moment, but grouped behind it Meg could make out Rick, his slender blond wife, Miranda, and their two towheaded children (one boy, one girl). Meg wondered if they had a dog at home to round out the wholesome picture. She flashed back to the first time she had seen Rick, when he and Miranda had worked the crowd at the Spring Fling. She’d labeled him immediately as a politician, and he still looked the part. Also on the platform were Lauren and a couple of people
Meg didn’t recognize. Conspicuously absent was former campaign staffer Tom Ferriter, now awaiting trial on two counts of murder, although she spied a couple of other members of the Granford football posse—still loyal after everything that had happened.

Nicky Czarnecki came up beside Meg. “Hey, what terrific publicity for the restaurant! We’ll be on all the channels.”

“Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen getting ready for the lunch rush? Looks like you’ll have plenty of customers today.”

“Of course, but I wanted to see how we looked from out here—and get some pictures, of course.”

“Has Rick booked any events at the restaurant?”

“I am sworn to secrecy,” Nicky said and winked. “I’d better get back inside.” She trotted off toward the restaurant, and Meg turned her attention back to the dais. There was more bustle, so they must be getting ready to start.

Seth joined her. “Hey. Do you have any idea what he’s going to say?”

“Nope,” Meg replied. “But it looks like he’s about to speak.”

Rick Sainsbury stepped up to the microphone. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, and Happy Patriots’ Day. We celebrate this day because it marks the start of our nation’s history, the battles at Lexington and Concord in this commonwealth, when a group of brave men stood up against an overwhelmingly larger and stronger force and fought for what they believed in—and ultimately they won.

“When I and my staff originally planned this event, I had intended to announce my candidacy for the U.S. House of Representatives. Those of you who follow the press know that there have been a few stumbles along that path. A decade ago, the company that my father founded, and that I took over, failed to carry out a project we contracted for
right here in Granford. Worse, we concealed the truth about it, which led to some tragic events. Two innocent people are dead. I could point the finger at those individuals directly responsible, but in the end, as the head of the company I am responsible. I accept that responsibility. There is little I can do other than promise that the land will be treated and the original error will be made right.” There was a smattering of applause. Rick raised a hand and went on. “And, as you may have heard, a member of my campaign staff—someone I counted as a longtime friend—has been arrested in connection to those murders.” This statement met with an uncomfortable silence from the crowd.

“So far, he’s being much more up-front than I expected,” Meg whispered to Seth. “Now what?”

“I’ve wrestled long and hard with the question of whether I should continue with my political campaign,” Rick continued, “or whether my reputation in your eyes has been irreparably damaged. You should be able to trust your elected officials, and they in turn should act in the best interests of their constituents. What I have decided is that I should leave the decision up to you. I don’t need to file official campaign papers until next month. I pledge that over the next few weeks, I will spend time with the citizens of this district. I will listen to you, and I will answer your questions. If at the end of that time you believe I am not qualified to represent you, I will accept your judgment and support the candidate of your choice. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and look at the facts. My able assistants will distribute press packages now, and the information will be available on my campaign website.

“Once again, I apologize for any harm I might have done, and I ask you to believe that someone can learn from his missteps and become a better person for them. Thank you.”

The applause began again, urged on by the carefully
distributed staffers. Rick stepped back from the podium without taking any questions, to stand with his picture-perfect family, framed by fluttering flags. Lauren nodded toward several volunteers, who moved among the crowd handing out stapled packets; she avoided looking directly at Meg.

Seth shook his head and smiled. “He’s good, isn’t he? He said he was sorry. He said he’d let the voters decide. What do you want to bet he ends up running?”

“I won’t be surprised. Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. But people will be watching him closely, and it can’t hurt Granford to have a local person representing us.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement,” Meg commented.

“We’ll see,” Seth said. “Now that this is over, we’ve got our own event scheduled, remember?”

They drove back to Meg’s house, where there were already several cars parked in the driveway. Together they walked up the hill to the orchard and then turned to the north where the new trees were planted. In the midst of the rows, Bree, Christopher, and Lydia awaited them. Meg noticed that even shy Michael had come, no doubt dragged here by Bree.

“How did the big announcement go?” Lydia called out as they approached.

“Polished and inconclusive—I think we’re stuck with Rick and crew for a while longer.”

“Once the political bug has bitten you…” Lydia said. “Are we ready, Christopher?”

Christopher stepped forward. “We are gathered here to celebrate the creation of a new orchard, a joint project shared by Meg Corey and Seth Chapin—and the first of many, we hope. It always brings me joy to see new plantings, and in this case it connects past and future.” Christopher winked at Meg.

Bree stepped forward, juggling plastic champagne flutes and a bottle; she handed the glasses around and poured.
“It’s sparkling cider, not champagne—we thought it was more appropriate.”

Christopher said, “Let us raise our glasses in honor of the new orchard and the new collaboration of Meg and Seth. May all of your projects prosper, and may your bushels overflow!”

Recipes

Apple Custard Cake

Meg found this recipe in a1914
American Cookery
magazine stuffed into a wall of her house for insulation.

CAKE:

1¾ cups flour

½ tsp salt

4 level tsp baking powder

½ cup sugar

¼ cup (½ stick) butter

1 egg

1 cup milk

3 apples, peeled and cored

3 tbsp currants (if they seem dry, you may soak them in boiling water for a few minutes)

sugar for sprinkling (about ¼ cup)

CUSTARD:

1 egg, well beaten

2 tbsp butter, softened

3 tbsp sugar

½ cup milk

½ tsp vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Butter the baking pan. Sift together the dry ingredients for the cake. Work in the butter with two knives/a pastry cutter/a food processor. Beat the egg lightly and stir it into the batter along with the milk.

Peel and core the apples and slice them thinly. Lay them on the cake batter in rows. Strew the currants over the apples and sprinkle with sugar.

Place in preheated oven and bake for 30-35 minutes.

While the cake is baking, make the custard. Beat the egg. Cream the butter, then beat in the sugar, then the beaten egg, the milk, and the vanilla.

When the cake is set but not browned, pour the custard over it. Return the cake to the oven and finish baking, for another 15-20 minutes. The cake will be done when the custard layer is lightly browned.

Meg recommends that you use a fairly soft apple, like a Macintosh or a Golden Delicious (the latter holds its shape well in cooking).

Mushroom-Potato Gratin

This is a hearty dish, best made with fresh local mushrooms, that can serve as either a main course or a side dish.

1 pound mushrooms (they should be flavorful types such as hen-of-the-woods or Crimini, not button mushrooms, but you can combine varieties)

3 tbsp butter

1 or 2 cloves garlic, minced

1½ pounds potatoes, sliced thin (if you use new potatoes you don’t have to peel them, but older potatoes will need to be peeled)

salt and pepper

1½ cups heavy cream or half-and-half

¾ cup cheddar, coarsely grated

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Butter a 1½- to 2-quart shallow casserole dish.

Coarsely chop the mushrooms. Melt the butter and briefly sauté the garlic over medium heat, until it is softened but not browned. Add the mushrooms and sauté, turning frequently, until they begin to release their juices, 5-6 minutes.

Arrange a layer of sliced potatoes on the bottom of the baking dish, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Spread a layer of the cooked mushrooms over the potatoes. Continue layering, ending with a layer of potatoes.

Pour the cream over the potato-mushroom layers (it will not cover the top layer, but that’s all right). Sprinkle the top with salt and pepper, then spread the grated cheese on top.

Bake in the preheated oven for 65-75 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbly and the cheese topping is golden brown. (You might want to put a baking sheet under the casserole
in case it bubbles over.) Remove from the oven and let it sit for 5-10 minutes before serving.

Serves 3 to 4 people as a main dish (especially if you include a salad or vegetable on the side) or 6 to 8 as a side dish.

Nicky’s Pappardelle

with Butternut Squash and Blue Cheese

This is one of Nicky’s favorite winter recipes, because the squash is a good keeper, and also because the dish provides an interesting mix of contrasting flavors.

Other books

Nature's Servant by Duncan Pile
The Trouble With Murder by Catherine Nelson
Return to Skull Island by Ron Miller, Darrell Funk
Book of Numbers: A Novel by Joshua Cohen
His Forbidden Bride by Sara Craven
Signs by Anna Martin
The Seeds of Wither by Lauren Destefano
Until We Meet Again by Renee Collins