Diane Davidson - Tough Cookie

Within ten minutes the kitchen was filled with the enticing fragrance of herb-flavored roast pork. I started the rice cooking in the homemade beef stock and turned my attention to the library-reception cookie recipe. As I carefully mixed dry ingredients into the creamy, bronze dough, my injured arm began to ache. My mind’s eye raced backward to the van plummeting down the snowy slope. Really, it was a miracle I’d survived.

I mixed the chopped chocolate, dried cherries, chocolate chips, and nuts into the batter. A van behind me … Yes, I vaguely remembered now, it had been one of those shuttle vehicles that ran between the ski resorts and Denver International Airport. But another vehicle close behind the van? I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember. Nothing came.

As I scooped the chocolate-cherry-nut-studded batter onto cookie sheets, I recalled reading many an article about high-country drivers fleeing scenes of weather-related accidents. Sticking around on a snowy, slick roadside in poor visibility could be more hazardous than taking off. At least, that’s what hit-and-run drivers claimed after a snowstorm, if they were apprehended—a rare occurrence.

The thermometer beeped. I removed the sizzling pork, checked the timer on the luxuriantly scented wild rice, and slapped in the first cookie sheet. A wave of fatigue swept over me. It was past eleven. I had to finish the cookies and let the meat and rice cool. Then I could go to bed.

But something kept nagging at me—something besides the death of Doug Portman, besides the threatening poison patches, besides even the accident. What was it? I sifted through my emotions. What was I feeling? Numb.

Snowboarders’ Pork Tenderloin

2½ pounds pork tenderloin (2 tenderloins)

½ cup Dijon-style mustard

1 tablespoon pressed garlic (4 large or 6 small cloves)

¼ cup best-quality dry red wine

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon dried thyme, crushed

½ bay leaf

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

½ teaspoon granulated sugar

Trim fat and “silver skin” from tenderloins. Rinse, pat dry, and set aside. Place all the other ingredients in a glass pan and whisk together well. Place tenderloins in the pan, turn them to cover with the marinade, cover the pan with plastic wrap, and place in the refrigerator for 6 hours, or overnight.

Thirty minutes before you plan to roast the pork, remove the tenderloins from the refrigerator to come to room temperature.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Use a roasting pan with a rack; line the bottom of the pan with foil and place the tenderloins on the rack. Roast the tenderloins until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center registers 140°F—about 20 to 25 minutes. Do not overcook the pork: the center should still be pink when served. Remove from the oven and slice.

Makes 10 servings

Chocolate Coma Cookies

1 cup blanched slivered almonds

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate (2⅓ 1.5-ounce bars of Godiva Dark or 1½ 3-ounce bars of Lindt bittersweet chocolate)

1 cup dried tart cherries

12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips (1 regular-size bag)

2 cups rolled oats

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

½ pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

1 cup packed dark brown sugar

1 cup granulated sugar eggs

2 eggs

1½ teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter two cookie sheets.

In a nonstick pan, toast the almonds over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, for about 5 to 10 minutes, until they have just begun to turn brown and emit a nutty aroma. Turn out onto a plate to cool. Chop the chocolate bars into small chunks, no larger than large chocolate chips, and set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the cherries, chocolate chips, and oats, and set aside.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the butter until creamy. Add sugars and beat until light and fluffy, about 4 minutes. Add the eggs and vanilla. Beat the mixture until well combined, about a minute. Add the dry ingredients to the mixture and beat at low speed until well combined, less than a minute. Add chocolate chips, chopped chocolate, cherries, and nuts. Using a sturdy wooden spoon, mix well by hand, until all the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated. Using a 1-tablespoon scoop, measure out cookies onto sheets, leaving two inches between cookies (about a dozen per sheet). Bake 12 to 14 minutes, or until the cookies have set and are slightly flattened and light brown. Cool on sheets 2 minutes, then transfer to racks to cool completely.

Makes 6 dozen cookies

I turned on the oven light. The cookie spheres were softening, the batter bubbling to a golden brown. I closed the recipe file on my computer and opened a new one, labeling it only “Unfortunate Friday.” Then I sat and frowned at the empty screen until the timer beeped.

I removed the baking sheets. Tiny lakes of melted chocolate winked inside the crisp, golden cookies. While they were cooling I put in another sheet, then checked the rice: about fifteen more minutes.

Back at the computer, I typed: 1. What intersection of Tom and parole board member Doug Portman would lead to a death threat on Portman? Was the death threat even linked to DP’s skiing accident? Does it have something to do with Barton Reed?2. Why was Hot-Rodder closed? Who closed it? Did Portman ski down the run, knowing it was off-limits? Or was the run closed after he was on it? Who knew he had $8,000 cash on him? Was his death a bungled robbery? Why would it be bungled? How did Portman die, exactly?3. What was Doug Portman’s background in Killdeer? Who were his friends and neighbors? More importantly, who were his enemies?4. Who hit my van?

Treat every puzzle with questions and chocolate , was my motto. And it worked, usually. Despite the fact that I’d already indulged in three desserts tonight, I had to taste one of my cookies, right? I mm-mm ed over the first bite, with its crunchy toasted nuts, tart sun-dried cherries, warm dark chocolate, and buttery, crisp cookie. I took another bite, and felt as if I must be going into a chocolate coma. So that was what I would call them: Chocolate Coma Cookies.

Hold on. Treat every puzzle with … I finished the cookie, licked my fingertips, emptied the steaming wild rice onto a wide platter, and removed the second sheet of cookies to a rack. What had I heard earlier in the day? I stared at the blinking cursor.

Don’t feel sorry for me . An inscrutable face. An acidic tone. I’m not sad … just puzzled . I typed: 5. What is bothering Rorry Bullock? Is she still grieving her husband’s mysterious death? Or is she embarrassed to show up pregnant and unmarried, three years after her husband’s death?

I frowned at the computer. Maybe Rorry had remarried, and I just hadn’t heard about it. Hold on: There was one person who would know the answer to that question. Marla.

I checked my watch: eleven-fifteen. Long years of church work had taught me that if you had even one compulsive talker on a committee of overly nice folks, the meetings can extend ad nauseum. If Marla had come home and gone to bed, she would have turned off her ringer and directed calls into her machine. So I wouldn’t wake her up if I called, I thought happily as I punched in her numbers.

“Goldy? What in the world are you doing up?” Marla had caller ID and loved to greet me with a breathless question.

“Cooking. How’bout you?”

She groaned. “I can’t drink because I’m on heart medication. But I keep thinking, if I had a drink and died, I’d never again have to listen to Karen Stephens talk for three hours without taking a breath.” She groaned again. “It would be worth it.”