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I am still waiting for the girls to show up.
I pull the last of the treats out of the oven and set them on the table to cool. I've been cooking like a poor man's Jamie Oliver.
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I have made, all by me-self: quesadillas, avocado soup, salsa and tamales. I can not cook like Tita from this week's novel, but after reading a book like this, it's an absolute must that we eat Mexican food.
Or as close to it as we can.
I cannot find the chiles recommended for each recipe (or bring myself to split quail from rump to whatever that other part is called).
Rachel and Frannie arrive at the same time, the former begging for wine straight off.
"Rough day, Rach?" I ask.
"Rough ride." Rachel answers, reaching for the wine glass and swallowing a gulp. "Frannie just took me for a spin on her scooter."
"Call her Gladys. I named my scooter after Flavia de Luce's bicycle, remember? Anyway," Frannie reaches for the bottle and pours a glass for herself, "you asked for the ride of your life and I gave you one."
"Something has to recover my nerves," Rachel is already finished her first glass of wine and is pouring another."Ohhhh, what is this, Ella?"
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I blush a tomato red. "In honor of the book Frannie brought us back from Mexico, I made some Mexican treats. Nothing like Tita's cooking, unfortunately. Still, I thought we could indulge a bit."
"It won't make us throw up like the wedding cake in the book, will it?" Frannie asks, picking up Mr. Tumnus and settling him on her lap.
"No. And it won't make you alive with passion like Gertrudis, either."
"Pity," says Frannie as she swallows her wine and pooches out her lip in a pout. She sighs, then starts the book discussion. "'right then, do you know what I liked about this book?"
"That you were able to watch the movie version on youtube?" I offer.
"No, not that. There are only clips on youtube, and they always end just when I was getting interested." Frannie shifts in her seat. "What I liked about this book was that the chapters didn't end with fanfare and cliffhangers. They did slightly, but the big events or the real shockers came in the middle of the paragraph. Just when you thought she was going to take a chicken out of the oven, someone would die and then we'd hear about walnuts and how to crush them. Very interesting how the author did that."
Rachel nods her head with wine-induced fervor. "The best bit for me was the whole magic-fantasy parts. You know, people crying rivers, actual rivers of tears. I love when an author gets it right. And this tale was so magical and unique. A great blend of fantasy and food."
"I didn't like the ending. Tita chose wrong." Mr. Tumnus meows his disapproval at me, but I stand my ground. "Listen, I know that it was realistic...as realistic as a magic-fantasy book that has buildings burn down from one's own fiery thoughts...but I didn't like it. The ending for me was all wrong."
Frannie is too busy eating a tamale to respond.
Rachel regards me carefully over her wine. "I think you like to play things safe, Ella. That's why you didn't like the ending."
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"I do not play things safe," I declare. "Look, this avocado soup has habanero peppers in it. This is utterly screams 'risk taker'."
Frannie shakes a finger at me. "Rachel is right, Ella dear. You play it safe. Tita can teach you a thing or two about patience and yearning for love."
I look to Mr. Tumnus for help, but he's eating a tortilla off of Frannie's plate.
I disagree. "I think Tita should have risked it all to have happiness and learn about love. Anyone can burn with passion for years on end. Anyone can treasure a memory and hold it close so that it becomes more dear than any reality. No, real living is in risking to love again, even if it doesn't approach you in the way you expect."
"Point taken," Frannie says. "But where would Richard Armitage's Guy of Gisborne be if he adopted that attitude in BBC's Robin Hood Season Two?"
"Married." Rachel and I say at the same time.
Even Mr. Tumnus stops eating and gives Frannie a flick of his tail.
"Oh, right." Frannie nods. "Yes. He should have given up Marian and pursued someone else. Poor Richard Armitage. Always losing the woman he loves. It's like Spooks season Nine all over again."
"Frannie, stay on topic. Richard Armitage has nothing to do with Like Water for Chocolate. Neither does your obsession with Spooks. It was two years ago."
"Is that all? Seems like yesterday..." Frannie looks at her food with great sadness.
Rachel drains the remains of her glass. "I loved it. The book is a sensation and a hit from days past and it's obvious why that is. It's smart, deliciously written and full of the zestiness I suspect Mexicans have in their veins."
"Yes," Frannie nods as she recollects her last week's jaunt to Mexico. "Cinco certainly had...zest."
Oh, gag me. I barely cover a sound of disgust. My octogenarian friend is clearly suffering from a case of Living In La-de-de-da Land.
Frannie pins me with a look. "Rachel's right, Ella. You play it safe."
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"I do not," I defend. Mr. Tumnus just looks away from me as though I am rather pathetic. Am I?
"Right, then, Miss Daring. We'll see what kind of risk taker you, in fact, are." Frannie exchanges a look with Rachel. I can't help but feel that I've been set up by these two schemers.
"What now?" I ask.
"You'll see. Next week's book comes with it's own risk."
"But we're reading the next Alan Bradley book in the Flavia series." I simply do not like Frannie's tone at all.
I am the picker of the books. Of course, I'll make allowances now and then, like I did this week. If Frannie thinks she can come in here and upend things then I've got a good mind to say "shove off" to her and her Mexican fantasies.
Rachel chuckles into her glass. "Oh, we'll read Alan Bradley. But...."
"But expect something unusual to follow."
I reach over and pour wine into my glass.
If life was anything like this week's novel then the wine would keep pouring, fill up my apartment and float those two ninnies I call my bookmates out the door and down the hallway.
This week's book is a Delicious Read that Will Add Calories to Your Bottom Just Reading It.