Dinner at Peregrine's
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
The great thing about spring days, Peregrine thought as he entered the city of Paris, is the combination it sparks of creative urges and the appetite to fulfill them. He noted a pretty Parisian as she crossed his path, but his stomach rumbled to remind him of the appetite he was initially considering.
Peregrine's wagon was kept in a wooded area not far from the city's main entryway, and he had spent the morning in minor maintenance and tending his mobile garden. The pots and window planters that ringed and even topped the wagon held, in total, more than a dozen herbs. Most were common, some were little more than barely tamed weeds, a few were descended from countries east of France, and one or two were exotics from places like China or northern Africa. All were treasured and carefully cultivated by their owner, who in herbs found plants that were both forgiving of his dubious gardening abilities and generous in their uses. Aside from the medicinal uses of the plants, they allowed a variety of flavors in what might otherwise be boringly repetitive meals on the road.
Now, as his hand passed his face to adjust his wide-brimmed hat, the odors of basil, thyme and mint that still clung to his skin gave him all sorts of inspiration for a pleasant evening's meal.
He entered a little open area in the building-crowded streets to find Esmeralda finishing a session of dancing to the flute of a Gypsy youngster. He referred to such short performances as "sets" when he was working a tavern, but had no idea what dancers called it. Whatever it was, Esmeralda and the boy concluded it, and the Gypsy dancer sent the young musician back to the Court of Miracles with his share of the earnings.
Peregrine smiled a greeting to Esmeralda as he approached.
"Well, hello," she said when he was close enough to hear her over the noise of the town.
"Beautiful spring day, no?"
"Mmm." She peered into her money pouch. "People seem to be in a more generous mood than usual. I could use more spring days like this."
"Well, it's put me into a creative mood - a culinary sort of creativity, this time. I wondered if you'd like to drop by my tent this evening for dinner?"
"What are you making?"
"It's a surprise." He paused. "To be honest, I haven't decided yet."
"Who's coming?"
"Um. I haven't mentioned it to anyone else yet."
Esmeralda's eyebrow raised in mock-suspicion. "And what should my dear Phoebus think, if he hears about this?"
Peregrine glanced down briefly, an embarrassed smile spreading across his face. He gave a quick prayer of thanks that he no longer blushed when she teased him. He colored rarely and it irked him that the dancer could draw it out seemingly at will. "It's quite innocent, I assure you. The fact is, I had just thought of it and was going to see if anyone was at the Court who might be interested."
"So you're not worried about Phoebus?"
"Not unless he starts giving speeches again..."
Esmeralda playfully backhanded Peregrine's arm, then laughed. "I need to go talk to Clopin at his puppet cart. I'll see you tonight!"
Peregrine waved a farewell as she darted through a space in the crowd, then made his way to the Court of Miracles.
He needn't have worried about finding willing participants for his little feast. Nearly a half-dozen Gypsies were at the Court for their luncheon, and they each offered to help procure, prepare, and polish off the food. The sisters, Rayne and Sovereign Brigand, were sent to find (and preferably purchase, as opposed to pilfer) parsnips, garlic, a few cloves, and at least a pint of verjuice. Mirette's job was to acquire flour, salt and oil. Jehan was to get the cooking area near Peregrine's tent ready and fend off anyone who might usurp the spot. Lastly, Tia was asked to find some nuts, cinnamon, and a few peppercorns if at all possible.
Peregrine set off to collect his own set of ingredients, first returning to his wagon to harvest some basil. After returning to town and purchasing some medium-soft cheese he dropped by his favorite bakery. From the ample selection he picked a loaf of that marvelous bread the French simply call "un pain," tough-crusted yet extraordinary within. Peregrine wondered that his recent countrymen ranked such a loaf toward the bottom of the bread ladder.
He munched on part of the bread on his way to the fowler to pick up some pigeons. Yes, this was a very good idea indeed.
Jehan was finished with his cleaning and straightening of the cooking area by the time Peregrine returned, and was proudly, if melodramatically, guarding it. Peregrine concealed his amusement by examining the items he carried into the depths of the Court of Miracles. "Everything looks pretty good to me," he observed.
"Thank you," answered Jehan, beaming. "All you have to do is light the fire and then we can eat!"
"Something like that."
"So where's everyone else?"
"It's not quite time yet; they'll be back soon. Here comes one now!"
Mirette had indeed returned with her compliment of ingredients. She set them to one side, then stood and tossed her long, red hair behind her. "I was just wondering: When are you going to tell us what's for dinner?"
"Yeah - why the secrecy?"
"I didn't know, myself, until I found out who and how many were interested," Peregrine good-naturedly protested. "And after that we hadn't seen each other."
"Fair enough," said Jehan. "So what's for dinner?"
Peregrine rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. Tonight's menu includes stuffed pigeon, dried fruits, parsnip salad, and strozzapreti."
Jehan blinked. "Strotsa what?"
"Strozzapreti. It's Italian. Translates to 'priest-stranglers,' I think."
Mirette's pretty eyes looked a bit concerned at that. "Priest stranglers?"
Jehan tried not to laugh, muffled himself for a moment, and finally lost the battle, with a guffaw. "Priest stranglers!" He erupted into hysterical laughter.
Peregrine ignored him. "They're actually a kind of dumpling that I like to have with a nice garlic sauce. I have no idea why they're called 'priest stranglers' but I'd guess the nun who gave me the recipe would know."
Jehan stopped laughing suddenly, his mouth and eyes equally wide open. "A nun?" He howled with laughter.
"Look, just get the fire lit, all right?" Peregrine said resignedly. He looked back at Mirette, who just shook her head and smiled, as always. Jehan moved around to the firepit and opened his tinderbox, chortling and snickering as he got to work.
Sovereign Brigand strolled into view, holding a bunch of parsnips by their greens, followed closely by Rayne, who carried an earthenware jar. Rayne handed the jar to Peregrine, announcing, "verjuice." She then dumped some cloves and a garlic bulb onto Peregrine's cutting board. "And there's the rest. Can I do anything else?"
Peregrine said she certainly could, and gave her a mortar and pestle to pound some of each of the garlic and cloves.
Tia returned with the remaining ingredients presently and asked for some assistance. Her cat was under the delusion that Tia's sack of goodies held something she might be interested in, and further, that she was going to get some of it. Sovereign Brigand said, "I'll take care of it," and came over to shoo Marya away from the preparations, leaving the parsnips on the firepit's hotplate. Marya possessed the tenacity known only to cats and three year old children, so it was nearly impossible to drive the animal farther than a yard from her mistress. While this went on, Tia held the sack out of easy jumping range of the cat and slowly moved toward where Peregrine stood assembling the ingredients.
Marya finally gave up the fight when the sack came to rest in Peregrine's hands. "Welcome back," he said with a lopsided grin. "You might want to talk with Phoebus about a career in the military. It looks like you'd be a great combat courier."
Tia responded with a curtsey and a wry smile. "So what are we making here tonight?"
"Well, we're going to make - ah, it smells like Jehan's got the fire going."
Sovereign Brigand joined them, having made sure the curious cat had left the scene. "A good question, Tia: what is all this for?"
"As I was about to say, we're having roast pigeon, stuffed with cheese and basil, and strozzapreti. That's a kind of dumpling," he added hastily.
"Is that what Jehan's giggling about?" asked Sovereign Brigand. "I can't get anything coherent out of him except when he stops laughing long enough to say, 'a nun!' Other than that, he just mumbles a bit before exploding into laughter again."
Peregrine sighed. "Yes, that's it. I'll explain later. Would you take these walnuts and peppercorns to Rayne, and ask her to add them to what she's doing?"
"Sure. I wanted to see - hey! What's that smell?" She dropped the items she had just picked up, and looked suddenly at the firepit. "Jehan's burning my parsnips!"
Jehan hadn't noticed the presence of the parsnips on the hotplate, and Sovereign Brigand had forgotten that she'd left them there. The fire was doing its job as usual, though, and the parsnips were scorching nicely. Sovereign Brigand rushed off to rescue them.
Peregrine and Tia watched her go, then looked at each other. Peregrine asked, "Would you mind giving these to Rayne?"
"No problem. I'll be right back."
He looked at Mirette, who had been watching the proceedings from her seat on a low wall, a bemused smile on her face. "Now, where did you put that flour?"
She hopped down, her smile broadening with suppressed laughter. "I'll get it."
He watched her retreating form for a moment, then turned to where the pigeons sat, plucked and waiting.
"I could have sworn I had six of these..." Only five pigeons occupied the cutting board beside the partially made stuffing. He searched the ground around the table, to no avail. Looking farther afield he saw a feline tail disappear behind the table where Rayne pounded away at the walnuts.
"Rayne," Peregrine called, "look under your table!"
She looked perplexed for a moment, then ducked under the table. A muffled exclamation came from below the table, followed by a loud thump and a louder yelp. At the thump, the table jolted, sending a shower of walnuts around it. At the cry, Rayne stood back up, holding the back of her head where she'd hit it on the table's underside. She pointed toward the ground. "Grab Marya! She's got one of the pigeons!" Rayne hurried after the cat, with one hand still pressed to her head.
Tia said, "I'll get her! She trusts me," and speedily followed, calling Marya and bending to be closer to her.
Rayne looked back as she was moving to see what Tia was doing, and thus didn't see Mirette crossing her path with the flour. A white cloud suddenly engulfed the three of them. Rayne stumbled out of the cloud looking like a strange ghost, and homed in on the cat. Marya took one look at her and very sensibly climbed the wall of Peregrine's tent to perch well out of the way of the humans. Mirette delivered the remains of the bag of flour to a speechless Peregrine before returning to her seat on the low wall.
Tia was the last to reappear. Her anklet had somehow come off in the confusion, and when the cloud settled somewhat she could be seen searching the flour-covered floor.
Peregrine's mouth was still somewhat agape when Esmeralda tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, almost afraid of what might happen next, and was visibly relieved to see that it was just her.
"So," she asked, "what's for dinner?"
Peregrine surveyed the cooking area.
A partially floured Tia searched the floor for her anklet. Mirette, also partly covered, watched from the sidelines with an expression between amusement and disgusted resignation. Rayne continued to try to coax Marya to come down, or at least give up the pigeon, but the cat only laid its ears back at her.
Jehan sprinted by at this point, followed by Sovereign Brigand, who brandished a smoking parsnip at him.
Peregrine turned back to Esmeralda. "I was thinking about going to Therese's tavern."