“I need the condensed milk for cookies. And the ricotta for cakes with ...”
“You’re not listening to me,” Henrik interrupted.
Nora frowned. “Both the cookies and the cakes sell very well.”
Henrik didn’t answer. Instead he returned to the bakery and walked over to an old bread maker. “Wow, I haven’t seen one of these since I was with my grandfather in Eklunds’ first bakery—it closed thirty years ago.”
He gazed at the single hot plate. “Everything is very clean and well maintained, but the whole place reminds me of the former Soviet Union. It’s like being in an abandoned café in Chernobyl, where time has stood still.”
Nora rolled her eyes.
“Some new equipment wouldn’t hurt,” Henrik added.
Nora looked around as if she, too, were assessing the place. “I agree, but I can’t afford it, which is why I’m doing the show. And I’m not interested in some luxury renovation just so that it will look all shiny and new. If I were investing in anything, it would be in important items like the ventilation system, which is ancient.”
Henrik clamped his lips together. She wasn’t making this easy. The bakers were usually amenable to his suggestions, open to new ideas, eager for his help. Sometimes they would moan about the fact that things had gone so badly, which was Henrik’s cue to offer a few words of consolation.
Several large loaves of bread were laid out on three trays. Henrik went over to them.
“That’s our sourdough,” Nora explained.
He reached for a knife and sliced through the crust, glanced around for butter. Nora handed him a carton and he spread a nice, thick layer on it. Took a bite. Absolutely delicious. And somehow ... familiar.
“This bread is excellent,” he said before he had time to think. Maybe he shouldn’t come across as too positive; that didn’t make for good TV. On the other hand, he had to give at least some praise. Otherwise his criticism wouldn’t be as credible. If there was one thing that deserved his strictly rationed praise, it was this sourdough.
“It’s one of our popular items.” She looked proud. “The starter has a wonderful history.” Her face lit up as she reached for a large glass jar on a shelf and unscrewed the tight-fitting lid. “It’s more than a hundred years old. We even celebrated its hundredth birthday. It originally comes from ...”
“You know those stories are often made up?” Henrik broke in with a supercilious smile. “I mean, I have nothing against sourdough, I love sourdough, I often bake it myself. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard about how the starter has been passed down through generations, and I doubt whether any of those stories are true.” He had an old starter that he used only at home that his grandfather had given to him, but his father had insisted that its alleged history was nonsense, that it hadn’t existed for anywhere near as long as his grandfather claimed. And to be fair, Grandfather had been a real romantic, so it was more than likely a tale he simplywantedto believe. All the same, Henrik had kept it alive. It had been important to his grandfather, for reasons Henrikhad learned by a circuitous route. These days the kneading and baking of two large sourdough loaves was a part of his weekend routine.
The light in Nora’s eyes died away, and she frowned. She inhaled as if she was about to say something, but then she exhaled and remained silent.
“These red plastic trays.” He went over to a pile in the corner and picked one up. “Do you use them to display your cakes and cookies?”
She looked up at him. “Yes? I realize you don’t think they’re trendy, but they’re practical.”
“Practical isn’t always best. Is this Nymans patisserie in Västervik, or a downtown McDonald’s?” Henrik waved the red plastic tray around as he spoke, and then he put it down, grabbed a wooden cutting board, and quickly arranged a few rolls on it. “There you go, that looks much better.”
“How lucky I am to have a celebrity baker come here and show me that I can put things on cutting boards.” Nora gave an entirely artificial smile.
Henrik had no intention of letting her sarcasm go. “You know what?” He folded his arms. “I’m here to help you. I haven’t traveled all this way to listen to your sassy remarks.” He stared at her, his expression stern. This was partly for the camera, but also because that was how he felt. He had to show both Nora and the viewers who was in charge. “If you don’t want my help, I can leave.” He waved a hand toward the door.
Nora didn’t say anything.
“Time for an interview clip,” Ted decided.
Henrik and Ted’s team went into the bakery, where Henrik spent several minutes complaining about Nora’s lack of respect and the fact that he had better things to do than put up with crap from someone who was running her business into the ground.
After a few minutes, Nora appeared. She barely glanced at Henrik, and he guessed that Elnaz had been firing her up. It would take only a tiny spark to set the air around her alight; she was practically surrounded by lightning bolts. He was nowhere near as angry—this wasonly a game—but he suddenly realized how unfair this was. She reallywasfurious. For her these weregenuine feelings, just like Don wanted. This was about her life’s work, while he was simply playing up to the cameras. He quickly pushed the thought aside—she knew what she was getting into, so surely she ought to understand the game too?
Lunch was served—minestrone with pasta salad. Nora sat as far as possible from Henrik and refused to look in his direction. Elnaz ran through the filming schedule again, highlighting a couple of changes. The next few weeks were going to be hectic.
“And what about the renovations?” Henrik asked. “Are we going to have time to get them done?” He glanced around the room. No doubt the decor had once been attractive in a cozy kind of way, but now the faded red curtains and cracked floor tiles were simply depressing. The pale wood furniture had yellowed over the years, and some of the vinyl cushions on the benches had been repaired with tape.
“Renovations?” Nora asked, still without looking at him.
“Yes—hasn’t Elnaz discussed them with you?”
“I mentioned that we were planning to freshen the place up a little. We thought we might make a few minor adjustments in here,” Elnaz replied.
