Week 13: Macon & Joanna
(Macon & Joanna cooking together)
“Jo, I love you, but you-”
“I know. I know. I’m not supposed to put the thing in the thing.”
“Eggshells? Yeah, those don’t go in the breading, usually. Let’s just pull that one out.” Macon reached for the piece of eggshell on the plate. “Oh, and that one, too.” She picked up another one she hadn’t seen before. “There we go. Now, you can mix it.”
“Can I?” Joanna asked, showing her signature cooking pout that Macon had seen several times now.
“Yes, you can. It’s a fork, and you just mix the egg until it’s all combined. That’s easy.”
“Even for a basic cooker like me?”
“Cooker?” Macon laughed.
“Well, I’m no chef; that’s for sure. Need a latte made with a fun design in the foam? I’m your girl.”
“Aren’t you my girl anyway?” Macon teased and began mixing up the egg.
“That I am.” Joanna kissed Macon’s cheek, which still made Macon blush.
She’d probably never get used to the fact that the girl who had been her best friend and who she loves, loves her back.
“Maybe we should’ve started with something easier than chicken parmesan. It’s got a lot of steps to it,” Joanna suggested.
“We started with bacon and omelets, and we’ve worked up to pasta and homemade sauce. I think you can handle this,” Macon replied. “Come on. Now, just take the breadcrumbs and put them on that plate.”
Joanna obeyed and added way too many breadcrumbs to the plate next to the egg.
“Oh, okay. I guess we’re making chicken parm for all my friends. Did I know Keira and Emma were coming over? Are Hillary and Amara joining, too? Is Kellan back in town, and will she bring Reese?”
“You’re making fun of me?” Joanna said with an adorable glare. “You didn’t tell me how many breadcrumbs you needed; you just said to put some on the plate.”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d put them all on the plate.”
“Macon Greene, you better just show me how to do this, so I can finally cook you a decent meal.”
Macon laughed and said, “Fine. We’re going to pound the chicken. Then, we’ll bread it.”
“Did you just say we’re going to pound the chicken? Why does that sound weirdly dirty to me?”
Macon laughed again and said, “No idea, but that’s on you. I’ve got it laid out over there, and there’s a little mallet I picked up from the store just for this lesson. Keep the chicken under the plastic wrap so that it doesn’t fly and contaminate the kitchen, but smack at it until it’s thin.”
“How thin is thin? I don’t want another breadcrumbs situation.”
“I’m watching you. I’ll tell you when.”
Macon watched as Joanna stared down the chicken breasts in concentration before she picked up the mallet and began smacking the chicken so far that even the plastic wrap Macon had laid on top of the chicken couldn’t stop several bits of it from flying around the space.
“Okay. No more mallet for you,” Macon said, taking it from Joanna’s hand.
“I need a beer,” Joanna replied.