The Barrel Fairy: Chapter 3, The Side

Bourbon  Mashed Sweet Potatoes 

Phone ringing, breaking the silence.

What time is it?

I clumsily grabbed the phone trying to get my bearings about me.

I could hear my sister's voice babbling on about something or other. The word babbling, also used to describe a brook, the water never stops running just as my sister's thoughts and her mouth.

I laughed to myself.

"Emma! What is going on with you? Are you OK?"

"Yes, of course I am." I reassured her. "Why do you ask?"

"Well it's only been three days since I've heard from you! You are supposed to be coming over for dinner tonight and you were hearing those voices the other day. Have you looked into getting any of the help we talked about?."

Three days? I just talked to her yesterday morning. Her dinner party wasn't supposed to be until Thursday. I looked wearily around. It seemed I had fallen asleep on the couch. I needed to wake up before I could have any type of conversation.

"I'll call you back."

I hung up before the lectures and questions began and the updates she had for me of every person we mutually knew and those whom I'd never met. I'd save that conversation for her dinner party. Sometimes a person who never shuts up is a godsend at a party full of strangers.

So, let's see. I turned on my computer and sure enough, she was right. It was Thursday. I'm not sure how that was possible since it seemed that it was yesterday, Monday, I talked to the bourbon company.

The last thing I remember was making the grilled cheese, Tuesday afternoon, and even if I had fallen asleep for a very long time, it should only be Wednesday. I had no idea where the last day and a half had gone or if I was up and about during any of that time but I knew without a doubt, this had something to do with my new otherworldly "friends".

Heather was right. I needed time away from all of this. I promised to bring a side to her party. I remembered her telling me she was making grilled pork chops and what better to go with pork than sweet potatoes. They were made for each other.

I had the perfect recipe too and it used bourbon, such a happy coincidence. I'll have that bottle used up in no time and get back to a normal life. I could hardly wait.

I had made this recipe before and I had always received compliments. The hardest part was waiting for them to bake. I had planned on doing that the night before so I had it ready for tonight. It was a step that could be done ahead of time.

I lined up my potatoes.

The recipe called for about 2 lbs.

I preheated the oven to 350 and prepared the sweet potatoes.

 I washed and dried them and gave each one their own sheet of foil that I would use to cover them while they baked. 

I pierced each one with a fork many times. It's a great way to use up any pent up aggression you might have...you know, anger one may have over a fairy using the word "breakable" as an invitation instead of a warning.

In any case, I placed a pat of butter on each potato. I wrapped it securely in foil, wrapped side up, so any excess butter didn't drip out into my oven.

I baked them for about an hour. If they weren't soft and tender enough to mash, I would keep them in another 15 minutes.

I unwrapped and cooled the potatoes and removed their skins. They easily came off.

In a large (3 or 4 quart) sauce pan, I heated

2 Tbsp Butter

1/2 Cup Heavy Cream

1/4 Cup Bourbon Whiskey

2 Tbsp Brown Sugar

2 Tbsp Molasses

I then added the baked sweet potatoes and mashed them.

I sprinkled with salt and a little freshly ground black pepper.

I let it cook over medium heat about 15 minutes or so until the flavors melded and the alcohol cooked out.

I tasted and made any needed adjustments.

Heather had given me some ramekins to use for her party, so I portioned out the potatoes and got everything ready to go to the party. I could warm them up in her oven when I got there.

For an extra special dish, a few chopped toasted pecans would compliment the bourbon sweet potatoes beautifully but for this party, the only nuts attending weren't in the sweet potatoes.

When I arrived, Heather had a table set up in her yard, under a tree. She did such a great job with her parties. A white tablecloth over just a regular party table made everything so elegant. The day was sunny and the tree shaded us while we drank and laughed. Her new neighbor was especially nice. I wondered if she was secretly trying to set me up. She never mentioned him once.

As the afternoon sun slowly descended toward the horizon, guests arrived, left and groups formed and changed from two to threesomes to many then a few. It kind of reminded me of the sky...clouds drifting together, then apart...spending time with each other then drifting away.

I never did seem able to catch the new neighbor alone. There was something so compelling about him, I couldn't seem to look away from him for more than a minute or two, nor could I seem to start a conversation with him. He was always a step or two away or another guest would catch me before I could go anywhere to start up their own conversation.

I glanced his way and watched him wandering off, away from the crowds.

I seized the chance.

"Hi there. Nice wine tonight isn't it?" I smiled looking directly into his big dark eyes.

"Excuse me?" Funny, his voice was so familiar.

"I meant nice night tonight." I giggled at my little Freudian slip.

He smiled.

No more words were coming from his mouth. Talk about awkward silences.

"I made the sweet potatoes." I finally uttered, not knowing what else to say. How embarrassing, that was something a 5 year old would say...I should have been asking open ended questions and starting a real conversation. It sounded as if I was fishing for compliments.

"They were acceptable."

What?!? Such an odd response. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had problems carrying on a conversation.

"Emma!!"

I turned to see Heather standing behind me. She had the oddest look on her face. A few others were staring in my direction. They, too, had that same look. What were they seeing?

I turned around to see why everyone was staring at this stranger but he had slipped away.

"Emma! Who are you talking to?" She looked very worried.

Your new neighbor, of course. I didn't quite get his name but he was just here a second ago.

"Emma, have you called the doctor?"

"Don't you think this is the wrong time to discuss something like that, Heather?"

"Not when you are standing in my yard talking to a tree!!!!!!"

"What?" A lump in my throat formed. A heavy feeling began to overwhelm me. At first I felt tears beginning to well up but then, in a split second, anger took the place of fear and sadness. It was no wonder his voice was familiar. I had just heard it last night, or the night before, depending on whose watch I was going by.

"I have to get back to the bourbon." I said.

"Emma, you're not making any sense."

"I don't need to right now. I'll explain everything to you later...um, I think. I just need to go and take care of something."

 I left the party. Thankfully, for now, the anger was taking the place of anything else I would have been feeling. I wouldn't let myself think of all those people staring at me while I flirted and laughed with a TREE!! Okay, never mind, I'm thinking of them, and my sister who is ready to have me committed.

So much for a night out.

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