Caroline managed to get a last minute appointment for the kittens, who she named Scrumpy and Solly, at the local vet’s practice and was relieved when they were given a clean bill of health apart from the fleas. She’d booked to take them back in for speying in a month or two’s time and they’d been microchipped, too. Armed with flea and worming medications, a litter tray and a bag of easy-on-the-stomach kitten food, she felt she was ready to own cats as well as a restaurant. To be on the safe side, she spent the evening looking up the Health and Safety regulations for animals in places that served food and reckoned she could manage, although bathing the two filthy kittens had been an adventure in itself and she now sported several lacerations up her arms and across her hands from their extremely sharp claws. The two kittens, once they’d dried out, had eaten voraciously again and were now curled up together in the cardboard box, lined with a towel.
After a slightly restless night, the next day Caroline was waiting for the chef that Jonathan had appointed to arrive. She checked her watch automatically as the front door opened; he was exactly on time.
‘Gino Marshall.’ The good looking young chef held out a confident hand in response to the one Caroline offered. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ Caroline replied. She gestured to the wooden chair in front of the table. ‘Sit down.’
‘Thanks.’ Gino was slim, long limbed and dark haired with a smattering of designer stubble across his chin and upper lip. The look was clearly cultivated, but Caroline wasn’t too fussed as long as he cooked well. This was her opportunity to find out a bit more about him than the information on paper. After all, Jonathan must have been impressed to employ someone quite so young as head chef.
‘So, you’ve clearly got the job, but as your new manager, I wanted to touch base and find out a little more about you,’ Caroline said, pouring them both a coffee.
Gino thought for a moment. ‘Since I left college I’ve been working as a sous chef at Carluccio’s in Bristol, and while it’s been a good job to have straight from college, I’m looking for a bit more autonomy. I like the idea of having real input into a menu and this part of the countryside has so much local produce to choose from, I’d be excited to experiment with it.’
Caroline smiled briefly. ‘I’d like a West Country theme, obviously, but one that takes inspiration from broader culinary influences. Sort of Tom Kerridge meets Thomasina Myers.’ She paused. ‘With a bit of Giorgio Locatelli on the side.’
‘That’s quite a broad scope,’ Gino said. ‘But I went to Tom Kerridge’s place in Marlow when I was visiting my brother last year. It’s well worth a trip if you’ve got time.’
Caroline laughed. ‘I’m not sure I’ll have much of that this year, managing this place, but I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength. Of course, as you know, we need to make sure cider plays a role in some of the dishes, too.’
Gino flipped open his portfolio, which lay on the table between them. ‘I used different varieties of cider in a lot of the dishes for my final project.’ He handed the folder to Caroline and watched as she perused the recipes and the short commentary. As her eyebrows raised in surprise, Gino let out a breath.
‘I really like the sound of these,’ Caroline said, lifting her eyes from the page once more. ‘And they fit in perfectly with our West Country fusion concept. How would you feel about cooking a couple of your specialities?’
‘Sure,’ Gino smiled broadly. ‘I cooked on interview, but it would be great to get back into the kitchen again and familiarise myself with it. When would you like me to cook?’
‘How about tonight?’
Gino nodded assent.
‘If you’re sure you can source everything you need by then, let’s go for it.’
Gino gave Caroline a steady look. ‘I really hope you like what I do,’ he said. ‘It’s my dream to actually own my own restaurant one day and this would be a fantastic place to start.’
‘I look forward to seeing what you can do,’ Caroline replied as she held the door open for him.
As Gino left the building, Caroline felt a surge of excitement. Gino was young, relatively cheap and full of ideas. She texted Jonathan to let him know she’d met Gino and that he’d be returning that evening to cook for her. Hopefully Jonathan might put in an appearance, too.
*
That evening, as dusk was beginning to fall, Gino arrived back armed with his supplies. Caroline was just finishing hanging the last of the prints on the long side wall of the restaurant. She’d dithered for ages over the right ordering and placement for them but was pleased with the overall effect which showcased a variety of images from the cider farm’s past, as well as some more recent shots of the orchards and iconic West Country sites. There was a stunning shot of one of the local strawberry fields in full fruit and another of the Axbridge lavender farm which stretched like a lilac carpet across the foothills of the Mendips between Shipham and Cheddar Gorge.
‘Those look great,’ Gino said, pausing to admire the variety of images that Caroline had arranged. ‘I love that one of the old shop on the cider farm site – I remember my Gran saying she used to visit it as a kid, and how different it looked to how it does today.’
Caroline nodded. ‘It’s come a long way, so I understand.’ She stepped down from the ladder that she’d been using to hang the pictures. ‘Are you OK to go ahead and cook? Jonathan said he’d be over later as well, so if you could make enough for both of us to have a taste, that would be great.’
‘Sure, no problem. I’ve brought enough ingredients so that you hopefully won’t need to cook your own dinner later!’
‘I’m looking forward to it, but leave me with the receipts and I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.’ As Caroline reached for the last of the pictures she needed to hang, she smiled as she realised which one she’d left until last. Taken by herself only last week, it showed the current incumbents of the Carter’s empire, Matthew and Jonathan, standing beside their father, Jack, at the end of one of the rows of trees in the Royal Orchard. All three looked happy and relaxed in the spring sunshine and were holding pints of Carter’s Gold in their hands. It was a lovely photograph and summed up the unity that, until recently, had been lacking in the family. Knocking in the last picture hook, Caroline hung the photograph and then took a step back. Pleasingly, every single picture was dead straight.
Soon, enticing aromas started to drift from the kitchen. Caroline felt a flutter of excitement as she anticipated what was to come. Finding so promising a chef in such a small village was a real coup; she had to hand it to Jonathan for choosing well.
In no time at all, Gino was wandering back through with two plates in his hands. ‘It’s ready,’ he said, setting them down on the nearest table.
‘So, what am I looking at?’ Caroline said as she approached.
‘Try this first,’ Gino said, passing her a laden fork.
Caroline popped the fork into her mouth. In pleasure and surprise she noted the complexity of the flavours. The base of the dish was seared, pan fried scallops, shot through with the unmistakable flavours of cider and marjoram.
‘That’s gorgeous,’ she said, once she’d swallowed.
Gino smiled. ‘Try this one.’ He handed her another fork.
Caroline popped it straight into her mouth. The flavour, yet again, was incredible. ‘What’s that underpinning the wild mushrooms?’ she asked, unable to identify the tangy, lemony flavour conclusively.
‘Doone Valley Thyme,’ Gino replied. ‘A little bit gentler than your common or garden version and the flowers look good as a garnish, too.’
‘You know your plants, don’t you?’ Caroline said appreciatively.
‘I spent a lot of summers in Italy as a kid and the rest of them foraging in the woods around here,’ Gino replied. ‘My Italian granddad showed me how to identify a lot of great stuff around the family home in Sicily and my dad’s dad owned a smallholding down Priddy way, so we spent a lot of time just exploring the land. He was good at identifying wild mushrooms and my Italian granddad knew his wild herbs, so I got the best of both worlds.’ He blushed. ‘Sorry, it’s a bit of an obsession for me – I was shocked at how many of my mates on the course at college couldn’t even identify herbs from a supermarket, let alone wild growing plants, especially those from this area and all around them. I just don’t get it. We live in one of the best areas for wild and foraged produce, I mean, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall has done about a million TV shows about it but loads of the people I trained with didn’t know their wild garlic from their wheatgrass.’
‘Well, I’m impressed,’ Caroline said, taking another sip from her tumbler of water. ‘If you can bring in some wild flavours to your cooking for the restaurant, then that gives us a real edge over the competition. And I know how good Sicilian cooking is, too. I spent a summer there after university working in a small restaurant in Milazzo, on the coast.’ She warmed to her subject. ‘Imagine! Being able to walk out of the door and collect ingredients, and showcase them in this place. And being able to shout to the rooftops that the wild mushrooms, herbs and plants you’re serving are freely available in the forests and fields. We really might be on to something.’ Caroline felt a real stir of excitement as she looked from the counter in front of her back to the new chef. Gino truly was a find. She took another bite of the mushroom dish.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Jonathan’s voice brought Caroline sharply down to earth. With half a mouthful still of the most exquisite wild mushrooms she’d ever tasted, she swallowed hastily. This triggered off the inevitable coughing fit and she was grateful for the tumbler of water that Gino handed her. Gulping down the water, she at last spoke.
‘No worries. We’re just trying out some potential recipes for the opening night. Gino’s got some brilliant ideas and you really need to taste these scallops.’
‘I’m sure he has,’ Jonathan replied lightly. ‘After all, he came highly recommended. May I?’ He picked up the other half of the scallop in his fingers and popped it into his mouth. ‘A little over cooked, I think, but beautiful flavours.’ After licking his fingers, he wiped them on the white starched napkin next to the plate.
‘I’ll make a note of that,’ Gino said.
‘Come in at the start of next week and we’ll talk menus,’ Caroline said, trying to regain the upper hand.
‘Thank you,’ Gino said, shaking hands with them both. I’ve got some amazing ideas for an Italian/Somerset fusion menu to start us off. I can’t wait to show you.’
Caroline felt a real surge of excitement as Gino left. She turned to Jonathan. ‘You made a brilliant choice by hiring him,’ she said warmly. ‘He’s made a fantastic impression and he’s got buckets of confidence and even more ideas.’
Jonathan seemed flattered by Caroline’s enthusiasm. ‘Thanks. He seems like something special. I think, with his skills and your experience, this place is going to have a really great start.’ He looked around the restaurant, and, drawn to the newly hung wall of pictures, wandered over for a closer look. ‘These look fantastic,’ he said. The one of himself, Jack and Matthew caught his eye, and Caroline noticed a strange expression crossing his usually carefully composed features. ‘That’s the one you took, isn’t it?’
‘Do you like it?’ Caroline asked, approaching him once more.
Jonathan turned briefly from the wall to look at her. ‘It’s great. I never thought…’ he trailed off, seeming to pull himself together. ‘Never mind. But there’s one missing.’
‘No,’ Caroline said. ‘I’ve hung them all.’
‘This one hasn’t been taken yet, but we must do it.’
‘What do you mean?’
Jonathan smiled down at her. ‘When the place officially opens we need to get a shot of you outside the building.’
Caroline laughed. ‘I can live without that! But how about one of the whole team on opening night? That would be a really nice one to put alongside the others.’
‘Fair enough,’ Jonathan said. ‘I’ll get the marketing department onto it.’ He looked back at the wall again, drawn to the same photo he was looking at before. ‘Can you email me that one?’ he asked. ‘I think Dad would really like a copy for his mantelpiece.’
‘Sure,’ Caroline said. She was flattered to be asked but also charmed by Jonathan’s obvious reaction to the photo. ‘And perhaps you can bring him down for a meal when we open.’
‘He’d love that,’ Jonathan said.
As Jonathan left, Caroline looked around. For the first time since she’d made the move to Little Somerby three weeks ago, she actually felt as though she was in control. She only hoped they’d have no hiccups in the run up to opening. Seeing that there was still a mouthful or two of the scallop and mushroom dishes left, she finished them off and then went to wash up the plates. The excitement about a new project was starting to rise and she could hardly wait for opening night.