K.Esquivel-LWFC

others it was easier. She just pretended that
each quail had a
softboiled egg stuck in its crop and that she
was delivering it from
this suffering, mercifully, by giving its neck a
good twist. As a
child she would have chosen death over
those soft-boiled eggs she was
made to eat. Mama Elena forced them on
her.
She would feel her throat tighten, so tight she
couldn't swallow any
kind of food, until her mother gave her a
smack that miraculously
loosened the knot in her throat; then the egg
slid down without any
problem.
Feeling calmer, she had no difficulty in
completing the next steps.
So skillful was she that it seemed Nancha
herself was in Tita's body
doing all those things: dry-plucking the birds,
removing the viscera,
getting them ready for frying.
After the quail are plucked and dressed, their
feet are pulled together
and tied so that the bird keeps a nice shape
after being browned in
butter and sprinkled with salt and pepper to
taste.
The quail must be dry-plucked because
putting them in boiling water
affects their flavor. That is just one of many
cooking secrets that
can only be learned through practice. Ever
since she had burned her
hands on the griddle, Rosaura wanted
nothing to do with any kind of
culinary activity, so she was ignorant of that
and many other
gastronomical secrets. But whether she did
it to impress her husband
Pedro or to compete with Tita in her own
territory-who can say?-there
was one day when Rosaura did attempt to
cook. When Tita tried nicely
to give her some advice, Rosaura became
irritated and asked Tita to
leave her alone in the kitchen.
The rice was obviously scorched, the meat
dried out, the dessert
burnt.
But no one at the table dared display the
tiniest hint of displeasure,
not after Mama Elena had pointedly
remarked: "As the first meal that
Rosaura has cooked it isn't bad.
Don't you agree, Pedro?"
Making a real effort not to insult his wife,
Pedro replied: "No, for
her first time, it's not too bad."
Of course, that afternoon the entire family felt
sick to their
stomachs.
That had been a tragedy, but nothing like the
one that shook the ranch
this time. Tita's blood and the roses from
Pedro proved quite an
explosive combination.
Everyone was a little tense as they sat down
at the table, but that's
as far as it went until the quail were served.
It wasn't enough he'd
made his wife jealous earlier, for when Pedro
tasted his first
mouthful, he couldn't help closing his eyes in
voluptuous delight and
exclaiming: "It is a dish for the gods!"
Mama Elena knew that the quail was
exquisite; nonetheless, Pedro's