Bitter Root Read Online Free PDF Page B

trust me, you’ll love it. Just cut it open and scoop up
the filling with a cracker. I’ll be back to see what you think.”
    Griffith did as instructed, and though she was prepared to
jettison the hot meat and rice mixture, the taste was unbelievable. She quickly
helped herself to more. As she took her last bite, the waitress picked up the
empty plate and replaced it with a wide shallow bowl filled with a golden brown
liquid dotted with bright red and white crawfish tails. In the center was a
generous mound of white rice finished with chopped green onions. The aroma
billowing up from the plate wrapped around Griffith’s senses like a warm
blanket.
    “Oh my God, that smells so good.”
    “Well, thanks. I think you’ll be happy with it. Go on; dig in.
I’ll be back.”
    This time Griffith watched her walk across the room and into what
she presumed was the kitchen. She wondered what her story was. She was a great
server and very friendly, although most people she’d come across in Louisiana
had been incredibly friendly so far. Maybe Michaud would have a similar
attitude. That would make the interview process so much easier.
    She lost herself in the divine taste of her meal, each bite
better than the one before. Whoever this Adi Bergeron turned out to be, she
sure could cook. The lunch crowd began to thin out as Griffith savored her
final spoonful of deliciousness. The sounds of laughter and banging pots echoed
from the back room. She glanced at her watch. It had been forty minutes since
she had spoken to Michaud. Hopefully, he would make an appearance soon.
    The waitress who had served her was coming through the back door
again, but this time she was calling to someone over her shoulder.
    “Yeah, you’re right, Bertie. I didn’t think he had it in him. Go
on, Jose, get on home. I’ll finish up for you.” She turned toward the room and
looked right at Griffith. She smiled and Griffith had to smile back. Such a looker, but way too young. Just as well. She had come to get a story and needed to focus on that alone.
    “Looks like you didn’t like that étouffée one bit, huh?”
    “Nope, not at all.” Griffith ran her spoon across the empty
surface of the bowl. “Could you just pack this up to go?”
    They both laughed. “So what brings you to New Iberia besides
meeting T? Are you here to tour the plantations? Avery Island?”
    “No, I’m not exactly a tourist. I’m here to write about this
restaurant for Epicuriosity magazine.”
    Griffith watched as the waitress visibly recoiled from her. What’s that about?
    “Oh. Here’s your check. I’ll take these dishes.” She hurried from
the table as if she were being chased. Obviously, not everyone at the Boiling
Pot was happy about the article.
    The door opened and a large man walked in. “Hey there, Adi. I
sure hope you took good care of Ms. McNaulty.”
    The waitress stopped for a moment and looked back at her, then
quickly went into the back area. The man walked toward Griffith with his hand
held out.
    “Hey there, Ms. McNaulty. I’m T’Claude Michaud. Call me T.”
    She shook his hand, expecting a fierce grip, but was surprised by
the lightness of his touch. Truly a gentleman, then. “Hello, you can call me
Griff.”
    “All right, Griff, how was your lunch?”
    “It was absolutely delicious. I can see why Dawn was captivated
by this place.”
    “You’re too kind. We just make simple food for simple folks.
Nothing fancy. What did you think of Adi, there?”
    “The waitress?”
    “Ah, well, I guess. Among other things. She’s our chef, you
know.”
    Griffith leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Really? She seems
so young to be so accomplished.”
    “She is young, but she’s been with us since she was fourteen. She
learned a lot from Bertie about how to make food that sits right up there in
your heart when you eat it. People just love her. We feel real lucky that she
found us.”
    “Found you? In what way?”
    “Oh, she was a runaway. Bertie