5.7: Finer Dining

At the same time that Lexington and Rebecca were sitting down to dinner, so were Brooklyn and his date for the evening. But instead of Tujage's, Martha had led Brooklyn to where another human clan member worked; a place called The Pelican Club. "The Pelican's only been open for a few years," Marie said as they glided down to land by the back door of the establishment, "but it's already achieved a great reputation for both casual and fine dining!"

The clan member working there, Claude Dubois, ushered them inside with a wide grin. "Martha, cherie, good to see you in town again! You don't come in nearly enough; got to get out from behind your desk and the stove more often! And Brooklyn, welcome to the Pelican Club! You're in for a treat tonight, guar-an-teed!"

Brooklyn was impressed by the club's décor, and just like his rookery brother, he was impressed, a little uneasy and a little sheepish at being waited on by humans. Back when he'd been hatched, not even most humans were ever waited on by anybody; that special treatment had been reserved for nobility.

After seating them with a flourish, Claude told them with a wink that he'd confided to his fellow chefs about planning to entertain someone after hours; his coworkers had naturally assumed he intended to bring his current sweetheart to the club, and had gone out of their way to set aside some special treats for the occasion. Tonight they would start with baked oysters, done in the Pelican Club style; served on the half shell with apple-smoked bacon, roasted red peppers, Parmesan and garlic herb butter. Then the soup du jour, which tonight was chestnut soup; guaranteed to make the taste buds sing! And for the entrée tonight, they would have their choice of two excellent dishes. The Grilled Black Angus Ribeye was served with smoked red onion relish, chipotle barbecue sauce, caramelized pineapple, honey cinnamon mashed sweet potatoes and baby vegetables. But the Walnut and Honey Mustard Crusted Rack of Lamb would be served with Yukon gold potatoes with truffle oil, baby vegetables and rosemary garlic au jus…

"Wow," Brooklyn breathed, his eyes wide. All he could think was that his rookery brother Broadway would probably maim somebody for the chance to walk in here and just breathe in the aromas for a while. And to think that just a few months ago, they'd been living in the clocktower and eating rat stew twice a night…!

Martha chuckled at Brooklyn's expression, and told Claude that they'd have both entrées, one of each and split between the two of them. Claude said she had the wisdom of Solomon, before heading back to the kitchen to bring out the appetizers. Brooklyn cleared his throat, and looked over at Martha as he said sheepishly, "So, uh… you come here often?"

"Not as often as I'd like!" Martha laughed. "Oh, once a week I prepare some extra dishes ahead of time, declare the next night 'cook's night off' and get far away from the kitchen. But even then, I don't always come into town; if I've got a hot story idea simmering in my head, I'll spend the whole night writing instead of just a few hours. I probably come into town an average of twice a month, and all too often I spend that doing research for my next book! Of course, since one of my characters is a chef whose sharp tongue frequently sets her at odds with the head chef, Irmina moves from restaurant to restaurant in New Orleans on an appallingly frequent basis. So of course my research for the series involves getting into those restaurants, and sampling their signature cuisines…"

"Sampling them, and improving upon them!" Claude threw in as he came back to the table with a platter of baked oysters. "If we hadn't run out tonight, you would have had your choice of three entrées; the third would have been the Filet Mignon. And though our saucier will never publicly admit it, 'twas Martha's suggestion, conveyed by yours truly, that perfected the filet's Shiitake Mushroom-Madeira sauce!"

"I'm impressed," Brooklyn said, and he honestly meant it. After Claude withdrew to the kitchen once more, he said, "I admit, I haven't read your latest book yet, though I did read the first two; clan life's been so hectic lately that there hasn't been much time to just relax and kick back with a good book. But Broadway described it to me once, so I have to ask: what inspired you to write about Herbert getting into a fight and using fresh-caught shrimp as weapons?"

Martha laughed, and told the tale; it turned out that she'd been inspired by a bizarre incident that had happened on an older couple's patrol six years ago. "I keep a journal of story ideas as they occur to me, no matter how crazy or morbid or silly they are. I'll admit I never really thought that one would be used, but when the plot of A Taste For Mayhem took Herbert past the docks, I knew I just had to try it out!"

"Like I said, I haven't read it yet… but considering Broadway kept stopping to laugh himself silly while he was trying to tell me about it, I'd say the scene worked pretty well! So, uh… what's the next book about? What's the title, Sweet Dreams?"

"Sweet Lies," Martha corrected him. "Well, it starts when Irmina gets herself hired on as a pastry chef for Broussard's…"

Brooklyn listened attentively. Broadway was right; even when speaking instead of writing, Martha was a fine storyteller! So far, this date was abut 200 better than last night's date with Marie. And he made a mental note to use the same tactic tomorrow night, with Yvette; to get her to talking about her passion, about the clothing she designed and sewed for both humans and gargoyles. Then he could just listen and learn, and not have to try to dodge around attempts to trap him into making any promises about later on. Though he had a hunch that Martha would never do that anyway (unlike Marie, who had made last night's ride back to the estate pretty damn uncomfortable, in more ways than one.) A good thing to remember for the next date! But in the meantime, having made the mental note, he sat back to enjoy the story.

To be continued…