Fudge Brownies & Murder - Culinary Competition Mystery #4

Chapter 11

(Amy)

"Is your mincemeat vegan?" the woman in a formfitting, black-and-white vertical striped dress asked. "I just stopped at The Veggie Crew booth, and the person behind the counter was making a big deal about how their vegan mincemeat tasted like the real thing. Is there really meat in a mincemeat pie?"

Amy smiled. Her brain was filled with food facts. It was nice to let them out to play once in a while. "Mincemeat is primarily dried fruit, like raisins and currants, spices, and sugar. Which would be vegan. But traditional mincemeat, like the homemade one we use in our pies and tarts, also has suet. Other recipes can use minced beef, or I've seen a few that call for venison."

The customer wrinkled her nose. "Suet—like the stuff my mom hangs out for birds in the winter, covered with birdseed?"

Yup. It kind of freaked her out too. "We get our suet from the butcher here in the market. It is, I assure you, the finest quality and most certainly not bird food. It is essentially a form of fat, like oil or butter, which adds moistness to the fruit. Mincemeat has been around for centuries, but the bakeshop uses a recipe that dates back to the1800s. I have to say, it really is delicious. To me, it just tastes like the holidays with all of the spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. I don't think you would guess from the flavor that the suet is in there. It doesn't taste like fruity hamburger."

The woman tapped the toe of her black stiletto pump. "Okay. I'm always game for a historical culinary adventure. Thank you for being so informative. I'll take two of the mini mincemeat tarts."

Amy arranged the small pies, topped with sugar-dusted piecrust stars, in a cardboard box. The woman smiled as she took the holiday treats from Amy. "I can't wait to try these. I am curious to see what they taste like. I always hated the jarred stuff my mom used in pies, but I'm sure these are completely different."

"Oh, yes," Amy agreed. "I know what you're talking about. These definitely taste much better than pies made from commercially produced mincemeat."

"Thank you. Happy holidays," the woman said as she walked away.

As Amy turned to drop her plastic gloves into the trash can, she spotted a familiar curly hairdo among the customers crowding the aisle. Candi, from The Veggie Crew, stood in front of the natural soap booth across the aisle. She was so still she looked like a statue—an evil, glaring statue that cursed anybody who dared look into her big brown eyes. Creepy.

Amy concentrated on getting the disposable gloves into the wastebasket. When she looked up again, the creepiness factor ramped up to run-and-hide level. Shantelle Applebee was back. And she had a friend. It had been snowing all day, but the burly man wore a sleeveless black T-shirt. It appeared as though every inch of skin on his arms had been tattooed with a sinister tapestry of skulls, knives, and gory depictions of zombies and demons. He sported the most dangerous-looking hairstyle Amy had ever seen—a mohawk composed of ten-inch-tall spikes of stiffened hair formed a median between two disconcertingly realistic tattoos of a brain depicted on the rest of his shaved head. Behind the couple, a toddler in a stroller pointed at them and began crying.

Shantelle ignored the screams and said, "I want some brownies, but I'm not going to pay that much. What's the best deal you can do for two of them?"

Bargaining for brownies? The terrifying couple was in a high-end specialty market, not a flea market where vendors expected to haggle. "I'm sorry. We aren't running a sale on brownies right now."

Scary Man took a step closer. "My woman wants to make a deal. Make one with her." His voice sounded like he gargled with gasoline—raspy and menacing.