Cooking for the Culinary Challenged

By E. S. Bianco

When Gloria Hobart decides to set up a local cooking class to fill in some spare time, little does she realise how much it will change the lives of her six new students. Friendships will be made and broken as they navigate marital problems, illness and loneliness. Yet each week they return to learn a new dish. Some will rise to the top of the class; others will struggle to boil water. Either way, each class is full of drama (and some hysterics) as they learn how to cook and about the people they’re sharing a kitchen with.

Zoe Stevenson has been married for a year and the pressure is on. It seems people have certain expectations she doesn’t agree with. She would never voluntarily go to a cooking class but when her husband gets her a gift certificate for the class for her birthday she reluctantly goes along.

Beth Gregory is in a rut. She’s married to a pig and her daughter treats her like a doormat. The class is an opportunity for her and her teenage daughter Brooke to do something together. Dragged along, Brooke sulks. A lot. But is there something else going on?

Adam West has had a rough year. Living back home with his dad, Adam’s only aim from the course is to learn how to cook anything other than a toasted sandwich. Of course, he might get far more than bargained for.

Charisse Montclair is a children’s entertainer extraordinaire. Her parents live next door to the Gregory’s and manages to invite herself along with Beth and Brooke. Is three really a crowd? And seriously, what’s up with that Zoe chick?

Erica Matthews lives alone and works alone. She spends a lot of time alone. Realising this isn’t enough; she decides it’s time to make some proper friends. But how do you do that when you only regularly leave the house to stock up on milk and cat food? (Of course she has a cat). Join a class of course

• Language: English
• Publisher: E. S. Bianco
• Release date: Dec 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370684977

Book preview

Cooking for the Culinary Challenged

By E. S. Bianco

Copyright 2016 E. S. Bianco

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To Mum and Dad

For everything

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Chapter One

‘Good God love, what have you done to my store?’

Satisfied, Gloria Hobart stood back and surveyed her handiwork. It could be described as anything but subtle. It was already attracting curious stares from Saturday shoppers tearing through the Green Street Mall.

‘Put up a few decorations.’ Gloria turned to smile at Henry. Henry scratched his balding head in bewilderment, the early morning sunlight bouncing right off the top.

‘I’m not sure it is exactly the right look for a hardware store.’

‘Probably not but it’s only temporary.’

‘As long as it doesn’t drive the few customers I have left away.’ Henry looked at the window display doubtfully. It wasn’t completely left of field for him to be expressing doubts. He was an uncertain person at the best of times and Gloria had twisted his arm to negotiate the deal. Added to this was the fact that his store was a small old fashioned place, frequented by older men who spent their time pottering around the backyard. The lurid pink display was not in line with the image of the store. Gloria patted his arm consolingly.

‘Trust me Henry, this will get you a whole new customer base.’

‘I like the old customers just fine.’

Gloria decided to tune his gentle grumbling out. In a few weeks time he would be declaring it was the best thing he had ever done, and wasn’t he clever to have thought of it. Meanwhile she was going to take any credit she could get.

Resigned to the fate of his store, Henry shuffled through the doorway, Gloria right behind him. They were accompanied by the cheery jingle of the doorbell. It was a proper doorbell too, none of this electronic beeping rubbish. If you were going to do something, you may as well do it properly.

‘Cup of tea love?’

‘That’d be great thanks Henry.’ Gloria followed Henry into the backroom and sank gratefully onto a rickety old kitchen chair. She’d been up early organising the display and had been working flat out to get it all done with as little disruption to Henry as possible. Henry placed a mug of milky tea in front of Gloria. It was weaker than she liked it but she wasn’t going to complain. Henry was doing her a favour after all.

‘Don’t suppose you’d care to run me through this plan of yours again?’ Henry took a loud slurp of his tea. Gloria sipped hers demurely.

‘Certainly Henry.’ Though it wasn’t exactly that difficult a concept to grasp, Henry seemed to need multiple explanations. No wonder nothing but the prices had changed in Henry’s Hardware for thirty years.

‘I thought it was high time I tried something new and if we can both get a win out of it, why not.’ Though it was a vague explanation answering nothing, it seemed to satisfy Henry. The poor man was probably just trying to make conversation.

In honesty though, ever since Gloria’s husband had retired from the corporate high life, Gloria had been bored senseless. Though she had never really had a career outside the family home, instead staying home with the kids, she had always been kept busy with the role of corporate wife. His job had kept her busy with all the social functions. Added to the fact that she had the best reputation for entertaining within the company, she was definitely kept busy.

Cooking was what Gloria did. And she did it well. Anything from an intimate dinner for two, to a high-profile cocktail party, complete with extremely minor celebrities, to sit down dinners for eighteen, Gloria could do it all. And make it look like she’d put in as much effort as popping down to the local IGA and picking up some microwave dinners. Which was something she would never do. Even when ‘getting the caterers in’ became the fashion, Gloria still did it all herself. She just pretended to be her own caterer.

For years now, she had been the go to person when any of the other wives had entertainment issues, especially in the culinary department. Gloria would pop round, stick an apron on over her designer dress and would have things sorted with minimum fuss in what appeared to be a matter of moments.

Of course as the older men retired and the next generation came in, things changed. Wives had their own careers and didn’t need to say good-bye to the workforce. Or if they did, they could come back sooner or later. Gloria didn’t consider this to be a good or a bad thing – things had a habit of changing whether you wanted them to or not.

So there she was. Bored. The kids were grown up and Jack seemed happy enough to take up golf and play that day in and out. Gloria wasn’t ready to pick up the knitting needles fulltime just yet. So what could she do? What did she love doing? Well that was an easy answer. Cook.

After mulling it over a while, the answer came to her. In fact it was so simple, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner. She loved cooking, she enjoyed setting down a well-cooked meal for people she cared about. So why not pass that on? Combine that with the fact that many people thought they didn’t have time to cook, she could teach them simple yet delicious meals. Sure, she wasn’t a qualified instructor, but this wasn’t about qualifications, this was about passing on her knowledge.

Gloria drained the last of her tea. ‘Right, I’d better get a move on. Plenty to do, not enough time.’

‘Ah, don’t I know it. Life just seems to be getting faster and faster. And I’m getting slower and slower. Just can’t seem to keep up. Guess I’m just about ready for the grave.’ Henry was always a ray of sunshine.

‘Nonsense Henry, you’ve got many years ahead of you. Now, I’ll be back next week to check on how things are going. I’m sure you’ve got an interesting week ahead.’

‘That I don’t doubt. Whether it’s good interesting remains to be seen.’

‘I’ll see you later Henry.’

‘Bye-bye then love.’

Gloria practically skipped out of the store.

Bemused, Greg Stevenson slowed his gentle amble to a complete stop. He looked up and down the street. Yes, he was definitely on the Green Street Mall, he hadn’t taken yet another of his wrong turns. Pushing his sandy blonde hair off his face, he opened the door, ducked his head and entered, accompanied by the cheerful jangle of the bell.

‘Henry, what on earth is going on?’

Henry looked up from behind the front counter where he was flicking through that day’s edition of the West Australian.

‘Well, let me see now. There’s been another bombing in the Middle East, another two killed in car crashes overnight and some kid has won a national essay competition. Parents wrote it no doubt.’

‘I meant more about your front window but that’s all terrible.’

Henry closed the paper and came out from behind the counter.

‘No one ever read the paper to get good news son.’ His sage advice dispensed for the day, Henry came and looked at his window. ‘There is a lot of pink there, right?’

‘Definitely a lot of pink. What’s it for?’

‘Naught to do with me, lad. Some woman friend of mine has the thought in her head to take to teaching people how to cook. You’d think people would already know how to do that being that they don’t seem to be dropping dead of hunger in the street.’

Both men peered out the window as if at that very moment someone was going to come along and disprove Henry’s point.

‘Well not in these parts anyway,’ Henry amended.

‘You can cook then?’ Greg asked. ‘You didn’t strike me as the type.’

‘I’m no stranger to a can opener,’ Henry said, a trifle defensively. Greg decided to drop it and ignore the man’s sagging pot belly.

‘Been much interest?’

Henry shrugged. ‘Don’t rightly know. Not really my sort of thing. Here’s a flyer if you’re interested.’

Greg took the flyer and glanced over. An idea drifted into his head.

‘Thanks Henry. This could be quite useful.’

Distracted, Greg raised his hand in farewell and wandered out of the store completely forgetting to get what he came in for. As he headed back through the door, he forgot to duck and head and frame met in a painful clunk. Henry winced in sympathy as did the man waiting to enter the store.

‘Sounds painful mate,’ the man commented. Greg rubbed his head.

‘I’ll have a colourful bruise in the morning. The wife’ll be wondering what I’ve been up to. Mind you, you’d think I’d have learnt by now that I can’t walk and read at the same time.’ With a sigh, Greg joined the foot traffic flowing past the store.

‘Seems like a friendly bloke.’

‘That he is. How’s your Dad today Adam?’ Henry heaved himself back onto his perch behind the counter. It was Adam’s turn to sigh.

‘He’s doing a lot better but there’s still quite a way to go yet. He’s only halfway through this round of chemo and it’s really battered him about. Much more than last time.’ Adam tossed a pack of nails onto the counter. He spotted a stack of flyers.

‘Is this what that bloke was reading?’

‘That it is.’

Adam picked up a flyer. ‘Cooking for the Culinary Challenged? That could be a bit offensive, couldn’t it?’

Henry shrugged. ‘I can’t keep up any more with what I can and can’t say. Anyhow I’m not entirely sure I know what it means.’ Henry scanned the pack of nails. ‘Nothing else today then?’

Adam shook his head. ‘Not today. All the projects Dad had on the go have been put to one side now. All he’s really doing at the moment is hitting nails into scraps of wood, just for something to do. Mind you, even that’s a bit beyond him at the moment.’

‘We’re all thinking of him. All of us boys down at the club.’

‘Cheers Henry. Catch you next time.’ Adam got halfway to the door before doubling back. He picked up a flyer. ‘You know, I might take one of these after all.’

‘Right you are lad.’

‘It can’t hurt right?’

Back on the street, Adam took a moment to enjoy the sensation of the sun warming his skin. Eighteen months ago he would have laughed at anyone who had time to do something as naff as that but if this last year and a half had taught him anything, it had taught him to appreciate the simpler things.

To be honest, Adam had been having a pretty shit time of late. There was no nicer way to put it and Adam would be upfront with anyone who asked. So for a little while life might have chewed him up and spat him out but he had a feeling that soon things would be a lot better. Well they’d better be. He had a funny feeling he would end up sobbing if he let himself think otherwise.

Though taking a look at the couple heading towards him, he was in far better place and took a moment to thank whoever that things worked out the way they did. If they hadn’t, that could have been him in about fifteen years time.

Adam shivered at his near miss and fished out his car keys. It was time he was heading back home.

Hunched over, arms folded, it was clear to everyone in a five hundred metre radius that Beth Gregory was utterly miserable. In fact the only person that seemed completely oblivious was her husband. If he would only shut up for a few moments so she could enjoy some peace, things would be that little bit better.

Though she didn’t know why she was surprised. Things always worked out this way. Today was supposed to be a fun family day out. The three of them out and about, enjoying the last of the sunny weather before winter set in. Yet it was never to be. Before they’d even left the house Brooke had chucked a massive wobbly and declared she hated both her parents ‘but Mum especially’. Charming. Just because she didn’t want her sixteen year old daughter out drinking until all hours of the morning that somehow made her the devil incarnate.

She knew parenting wasn’t supposed to be easy but if George could just be supportive every now and then instead of spending all his time at home comatose in front of the TV occasionally rousing himself enough to demand another beer, then life could be a hell of a lot easier.

Beth caught a glimpse of herself in one of the store windows as they walked past. She felt like crying. She knew she looked frumpy, hell, she felt frumpy, but she didn’t like having it confirmed to her on a public street. Though she knew it would make her feel even worse, she couldn’t look away.

At a glance it was clear she was far too skinny. Even from here she could see her collar bone jutting painfully through her skin. Her hair was lank and her skin was oily. Last year she had turned forty and was dismayed to find out that her skin still broke out. Weren’t you supposed to leave that all behind in high school? Evidently not her.

In a cruel twist, large red blotches sat side by side with the long deep lines that traversed her face. Beth thought it was frightening. Her clothes were easily ten years old and had passed the worn out stage five years ago. But what was the point of dressing pretty if there was no one to appreciate it?

‘Beth, what are you staring at? The people in the cafe are staring at you staring at them. Are you listening to a single thing I’m saying?’

Beth was jolted from her reverie by the whining tones of her husband. Usually she could tune them out to some extent but whenever it changed up or down a gear, the change always grabbed her attention. She’d have to work to return to that mindless place.

‘Beth, this is not a zoo. People do not like it when you stare at them while they eat.’

Beth focused her gaze beyond her reflection and into the store. Which was a cafe filled with people either looking at her with suspicion or trying to avoid her gaze. One particularly nervy patron pulled her child closer. Beth would have rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite summon the energy. Instead she resolved to check what was behind the reflective surface before she used it as base for self loathing.

‘Beth! Are you planning on standing there all day or what? Get a move on, will you.’

Swallowing a sigh, Beth trudged after her husband as he entered their fifth hardware store for the afternoon. What was it with men and tools?

Henry looked up as the cheery jangle of the bell irritated the new arrival.

‘What is with those bloody bells? Is the sound of a door opening not obvious enough for some people?’

Henry decided to leave the man to his own devices. Some customers you didn’t want to encourage returning for repeat business. Though based on the way his stomach was straining against his shirt and how he was spilling out the top of his shorts, it wouldn’t be a long business relationship anyhow.

The bell jangled again and a tiny woman shuffled in. She reminded Henry of the injured birds his daughter used to bring home when they were kids. Not one of them ever lived to see the light of day again. Strangely enough his daughter had grown up to be a reasonably competent vet. Just a bit too late for those poor birds and other assorted creatures she carted home.

‘Right, Beth, let’s get moving. Just a whole lot of nothing in here,’ the man boomed. Henry was pleased with his efforts to keep his face immobile. Only the corner of his lip curled.

‘Just one moment George,’ the woman said and moved towards the counter.

‘Now Beth,’ demanded the man as he marched out of the store. The woman stood frozen to the spot while she watched her husband leave. Her gaze drifted toward the counter before returning to the door. Evidently making a decision, she scurried over to the counter.

‘So sorry to bother you,’ she began a little breathlessly, ‘but I just had a question about your window display?’

Henry handed her a flyer. ‘All the information is on there love.’

Beth took it and scanned it quickly. He was right. It was all there.

‘Thank you ever so much!’ Her smile completely transformed her face. For a moment Henry caught a glimpse of the person she could have been.

‘You’re very welcome. Have a good day, now.’

‘BETH!’ The yell from the street was heard clearly inside the store. The smile dropped from Beth’s face.

‘Thanks again,’ she murmured before hurrying over to the door. Henry shook his head as she left. Poor devil.

Chapter Two

Zoe looked from her husband to the gift certificate in her hand, back to her husband, her short, black bob swishing. He was still beaming but his smile was starting to look a bit wobbly.

‘If this is a joke, I don’t get it.’

The smile dropped completely. ‘You don’t like it?’

Zoe waved the certificate in front of his face. ‘This is a certificate you’ve made on the computer, printed out at work, so I can have cooking lessons. Are you trying to drag me back to the 1950s? Because I won’t go.’

‘That’s not what I meant at all! You’re always complaining how you can’t cook and then I saw this flyer and thought you might enjoy it and maybe meet some new people.’

‘So you’re saying I’m a sad, lonely woman who needs to get out more but only after I’ve put dinner on the table?’

‘No Zoe! I just thought instead of getting you yet another pair of earrings I could get you something that could be fun.’

‘Let me give you a bit of advice Greg. Always go for the earrings.’

Greg sighed, defeated. ‘Okay, Zoe. Tear that up and we’ll go get you something this weekend.’

Zoe considered her husband for a moment. All the excitement which he had been practically fizzing with when he handed over the envelope was gone. She’d killed it. Now he was sitting there looking absolutely miserable. Zoe looked at the gift certificate again. He had gone to all the effort to put something together and when you read it you could almost feel the love tattooed into the page. But seriously? Cooking lessons? She didn’t want to be receiving blenders for her birthday for the next fifty years. Getting excited about the new features on the latest model. Good grief.

‘I’m sorry Zoe. I didn’t mean to muck up your birthday. I’ll do better next year I promise.’ Greg gave her a hangdog smile. Great. Why did she have to marry such a decent man? Oh yeah. He was the only one who would put up with her crap.

Zoe made a decision and hoped she wouldn’t regret it later. Like, when she got her seventeenth MixMaster accessory.

‘No, I’m sorry Greg. You put a lot of thought into this and I behaved like a child mixed with an unappreciative cow.’

‘Now you’re just putting a brave face on. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. We’ll sort it this weekend, okay? Now I’ll go put on some tea.’

Oh God. He only put on tea when he felt emotionally fragile. That was something Zoe had learnt this past year. She jumped to her feet.

‘No!’

Greg stopped, his forehead wrinkled. ‘You don’t want tea? You always want tea. Sometimes I think if you could get a drip put in, you would.’ And that was something Greg had learnt this past year.

‘No, tea would be great. But stop frowning or you’ll have to get botox.’

Greg stopped even though he knew it was just one of his wife’s very dry jokes. At least, he was fairly certain it was.

Zoe came closer and took his hand. Greg relaxed. Hand holding was always a good sign. Zoe never used physical contact to soften an emotional blow. She preferred to just beat you over the head with it from afar.

‘You know how this whole marriage thing seems to be about compromise?’

‘Yes?’ said Greg uncertainly. Like most of the time he had no idea where Zoe was going with this.

‘If you really, really want to you can buy me a pair of earrings. I will never say no to jewellery.’ Zoe let a cheeky grin spread across her face. The one that Greg would do anything to see.

‘Okay.’

‘But,’ Zoe waved the gift certificate she was still holding, ‘I will go on this cooking course and I will not complain, moan, whine, grizzle or in any other way behave like a two year old running on two hours sleep. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

They sealed it with a kiss.

‘Who knows? You might even have fun.’

‘Don’t push it Greg.’

God, he loved his wife.

Looking around furtively, Beth pulled the crumpled piece of paper from her handbag, and smoothed it out on the kitchen bench. Even though George was at work and Brooke was at school, Beth was worried that any moment somebody would walk right in and catch her in the act.

Taking a deep breath and then another to steady her nerves, Beth picked up the phone. And put it right back down again.

Dismayed, Beth looked at her shaking hands. What sort of person was she, scared to make a phone call in the middle of the day, in her own home. All she was doing was making enquiries. To someone she would never have to speak to again if she didn’t want. But what if they thought she was stupid? Or timid? Or living the high life being home in the middle of the day?

Beth had no idea why she cared so much but she did. Even when she tried to block it out the possible permutations of strangers thoughts drifted to the front of her mind.

Beth’s gaze drifted to the phone. Even though it was an inanimate object,