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“We’re out of chocolate? How are we out of chocolate? It’s in half of our menu!” Alex dug frantically through the cupboards and the pantry for even a single bar of the rather expensive chocolate specially ordered from Mexico for his and Nora’s dessert cafe.
“We’ve been getting more and more popular lately,” Nora pointed out. “Sales are up 35% since Percy Okonjo stopped by last month and posted about us on their Instagram. It’s possible that due to the unforeseen increase…”
“Nora,” Alex snapped, spinning on his friend and business partner with thinly stretched patience. “Windsor Foods is coming today, and we don’t have chocolate.”
“I can run and pick up some Hershey bars,” Nora offered, mostly just to hear the indignant gasp from Alex and see the offended look on his face. She rolled her eyes and unfolded her arms from over her chest. “Just make him something else, what about the tres leches cake. It’s our most popular sell.”
“Yes, but that’s what we gave the pretentious blonde fucker last time he was here, and his review was less than stellar,” Alex pointed out, shuddering as he remembers the food critic describing his cake as ‘dry and lacking in flavor’ and the cafe itself as having ‘no creative initiatives’ in their menu options, like there were Mexican dessert cafes on every street corner or something. A throat cleared from behind him, and Alex easily recognizes it as June.
“Alex, there’s someone here to..”
“Not now June,” Alex said, waving her off without even turning around as he continued to dig around for even a single bar of chocolate. “We are out of chocolate and the critic will be here today and I was going to make Abuelo’s chocolate spice cake but honestly I would settle for enough chocolate to make churro french toast bake with that chocolate sauce everyone loves.”
“Alex, I really think you should..” June tried again, only to be cut off and at this point Alex was digging his own grave so she folded her arms over her chest and watched.
“Who even does that?” Alex snapped, climbing up to kneel on a counter so he could look in the taller cabinets. “Who critiques food for a living? What stuck up, pompous, obtuse fucking asshole thinks so highly of their own opinions that they eat food and publish their…”
“Alex!” This time it’s Nora who shouted his name and Alex spun, nearly falling from the counter if it wasn’t for the palm at the small of his back. Alex twisted and looked down to see… oh…
“You’re the…”
“I think I’m the pretentious blonde fucker,” the blonde said in an obnoxiously British accent that Alex didn’t find quite as obnoxious coming from him. “Or the obtuse arsehole? Though, I do believe you had to deal with my brother Phillip last time around. Lucky for you he came down quite suddenly with some sort of flu, so I was sent as his replacement. I’m Henry.”
“Henry,” Alex repeated, climbing down from the cabinets and wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. “Henry from Windsor Foods?” Alex glanced up at the clock. “You’re early.” Alex’s heart sank as he realized what he’d done. “I am so…”
“Pesky early flights,” Henry said with a laugh, lifting his hand to cut Alex off. “No need for apologies. I have no doubt my brother left a less than admirable impression.” The whole room was silent before Nora cleared her throat to cut off Alex’s blatant staring.
“Right, well June will get you seated, and we will bring you a plate as soon as….”
“If it’s all the same to you,” Henry interrupted, “I’d be more keen to stay here in the kitchen if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother.”
Alex’s biggest pet peeve was being watched in the kitchen. Having someone watch while he passionately works was nerve wracking and made Alex think too much. Nora knows this and steps forward on behalf of Alex. “Actually, we have a lovely table set aside for…”
“It wouldn’t be a bother,” Alex jumped in, ignoring the way both Nora and June’s eyebrows shot up in amusement while Henry just smiled softly over at him. June and Nora left to take care of the customers and serve at the front of the house while Alex dug out all the ingredients necessary for their bestselling tres leches cake using his grandmother’s recipe. Henry sat into one of the barstool chairs in the kitchen, pulling out his notepad to take notes.
“So Alex, what brought about your love for cooking?” Henry asked as Alex started to mix the ingredients. Alex looked over at Henry over the rim of his glasses with a curious smile.
“I didn’t think this was going to be an interview,” Alex said back with a small laugh. “Thought you were just here to critique my cooking.”
“Oh, I’m most certainly here for that as well,” Henry teased right back. “I like to make my reviews a bit more personable though.” Alex really couldn’t deny that smile anything.
“From my dad - he was the cook of the family and I loved helping him in the kitchen,” Alex started - talking about food was easy for him as his hands went through the muscle memory of making the cake. “In the summers when we visited my Abuelo and Abuela in Mexico, my Abuela would teach me all their family recipes and I fell in love with desserts the most.”
They fell into easy conversation, talking about Alex’s history with cooking and where he went to school, how Henry got into food reviews and his family in London, but his work is in New York with LGBTQ+ youth shelters. In no time at all the oven was buzzing to signal the cake was done baking. Alex took it from the oven and placed it into the cooling rack, moving to the frosting.
“Do you want to help with the frosting?” Alex asked, getting started on the milk mixture but gesturing to the frosting ingredients in front of him. Henry shook his head with a laugh.
“Oh no, I’m honestly rubbish in the kitchen,” Henry insisted but Alex reached for the critic, wrapping his fingers around Henry’s wrist and tugging him over to the station.
“It’s a vanilla and cinnamon whip cream frosting,” Alex explained, waving his hand over the three ingredients laid in front of him. “It’s impossible to get wrong.”
“I promise you I will exceed those expectations,” Henry grumbled but rolled up the sleeves of his button down (Alex absolutely did not stare at his forearms.. for that long). Alex started on the milk mixture - whole milk, evaporated milk, and sweet condensed milk. He was turning to get the cake from the cooling rack when out of the corner of his eye saw Henry getting ready to dump the whole bottle of vanilla into the bowl.
“Espera! ¿Qué estás haciendo?” Alex called out with a laugh, reaching and wrapping his hand around Henry’s on the bottle and pulling it away from the bowl. Henry’s eyes were wide and fixed on where their touch met. “What are you doing?”
“I honestly have no idea,” Henry said sheepishly. “Your measurement system in America is confusing and I didn’t want to ask so I just thought I’d guess.” Alex’s head fell back in laughter and he held a tablespoon up to Henry.
“Two of these for the vanilla and the cinnamon and then mix,” Alex instructed, slowly pulling back and going back to the cake. He poked holes into the now cool cake and poured the milk mixture over top. He turned to watch Henry mix the frosting, now definitely staring at his forearms, and when that was done, they spread that overtop the cake and Alex wrapped it in cling wrap and put it in the fridge.
“Aren’t I eating some of that?” Henry asked as Alex turned around with a different cake from the fridge in his hands and an appalled look on his face.
“Tres leches cake needs days to sit before it’s ready to eat,” Alex explained, opening up the tres leches cake he’s made several days before and set in the fridge to soak. Henry tilted his head, giving Alex a very confused look.
“Then why did you make that cake if you already had that one ready?” Henry asked and Alex tried to bite back his grin.
“Just enjoying each other’s company,” Alex said, opening up the cake and cutting two slices out of the cake and setting them onto plates. “Dig in.”
Alex was too nervous to eat his own, watching Henry take several bites of the cake. He took a few notes but gave nothing away on his face which made Alex even more anxious. Henry finished half of his cake and looked up.
“That will be all I need,” he said and started packing up his things. Alex stood abruptly, that was it?
“Wait, let me get you a box,” Alex said, going to get a box and putting Henry’s half-finished slice of cake inside. He also wrote his phone number on the inside of the lid before handing it to Henry who had turned into all business.
“Thank you. You can expect your review to be in the Times sometime next week.” Before Alex could say anything more Henry spun on his heel and left as quickly as he came. Alex stood in his spot in the kitchen until June and Nora came running back.
“Well?” June asked, bouncing on her toes. “How did it go?”
“I am not exactly sure…” Alex said genuinely unsure of the entire interaction with Henry.
*
It had been a week and a half since Henry’s visit to the cafe - no review and no texts from Henry. Perhaps Alex had read into things too much, gotten the wrong vibes from the other man but Alex had been sure that there was something there. Alex was once again climbing up onto the counters to reach an ingredient on the very top shelf of one of the cabinets in the early morning before the shop officially opened.
“Perhaps you should invest in a ladder,” a voice called out, startling Alex so much that he stumbled backward, slipping right off the counter. He braced himself for a hard landing but ended up in the arms of an annoyingly charming food critic.
“Why would I need a ladder when it seems you’re always around to catch me,” Alex says with a grin. Henry set him back onto his feet and cleared his throat.
“I’ve come to personally deliver this,” Henry says, holding out a copy of The New York Times, folded to the food section. Alex took the page from Henry’s hands, reaching for his glasses that hung from his shirt so he could read.
Authentic Mexican desserts, must try of the season, up and coming chef Alexander Claremont-Diaz.
The cafe was given four out of five stars. “And I was also hoping I could ask you on a date.”
Alex looked up, his mouth still dropped open at the incredible review and also at being asked on a date. “You only gave us four out of five stars,” was the first thing Alex said and Henry laughed so fully that Alex wanted to bottle that sound up and keep it.
“Perhaps if there had been some chocolate with my dessert, I could have given five,” Henry teased, and Alex hit his arm with the newspaper.
“Shut up,” Alex sighed before stepping in, sliding his hand around to the back of Henry’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Henry hummed in surprise before Alex felt warm hands around his waist and Henry kissing him back. When they broke apart, both breathless and grinning, Alex poked Henry in the chest. “One rule, I will be cooking for our date.”
“Are you sure? There was a five-star restaurant down the block I thought we should try inst…” Alex cut off Henry’s teasing with another kiss and Henry laughed against his lips before melting into it. Alex did indeed cook for their date and many many more dates after that.