When Only Cupcakes Will Do Read Online Free PDF Page A

understand why readers enjoyed seeing hard-working people trashed, for while the food blogger stuck religiously to reviewing the actual food, his readers often made their comments personal.
    She remembered a conversation she’d had only a few weeks ago with Gino and Antonio.
    â€˜The scumbag food critic who hides behind the Anon. Appetit blog has rubbished my cousin Leonardo’s pizzeria. He said it wasn’t up to his exacting cordon bleu standards. It’s a pizzeria, for Christ’s sake.’ Gino had waved his kitchen knife in the air in a gesture of what he’d like to do to the celebrity reviewer.
    â€˜Leonardo is devastated – his takings are down by twenty-five per cent and he’s talking about selling up and going back to Florence. I told him these morons make their living from regaling potential diners with witty observations and comedic asides. They have to continually seek out establishments and chefs to belittle and ridicule to ensure their observations remain in the spotlight. Yet these people who don’t know a roux from a roulade tend to forget what diners really enjoy – the comfort of a delicious and satisfying meal served by a friendly waiter at a reasonable price, safe in the knowledge that there will be no part of their meal adorned with snails’ vomit or distilled rats’ urine.’
    If she ever came face-to-face with the author who encouraged such vitriol, like Gino she would certainly have something to say to him, too – she just hoped Antonio’s informant had got it wrong and that Mr Anon. Appetit would have the good sense to steer clear of Francesca’s that evening.
    Her fingers started to tremble as she sliced a lemon for her crostata al limone . The day was beginning to feel as long as War and Peace .
    â€˜Good grief, who rattled Francesca’s cage?’ asked Sofia as she strode into the kitchen, her eyebrows disappearing into her fringe in consternation as she helped herself to a jug of water to replenish the fresh flowers on each of the tables.
    Gino broke away from his task of pulverising a steak to exchange a mischievous smirk with Lucie.
    â€˜If she’s not careful, I think our boss might spontaneously combust! We will do what we always do and cook, cook, cook and every diner in here tonight cannot fail to have an awesome experience – I know it. Are we not the maestros of minestrone, the virtuosos of veal, the connoisseurs of cannoli and cartellate ? They’ll all be blown away by our offerings, especially your desserts, Lucie, whichever one they choose to indulge their taste buds in.’
    Lucie turned up the corners of her lips, but her smile didn’t register as far as her eyes as she continued absently with the preparation of a Sicilian cassata . As she chopped, whisked and sifted, her mind drifted, inevitably, back to Alex. She fervently wished she could join in with the burbling roulade of kitchen gossip that always preceded a busy evening, but all she felt was numbness creeping from her stomach to her chest and clouding her mind of any pleasure.
    Was Francesca right? Should she take the night off after she’d finished preparing her desserts?
    But the subject uppermost in her mind was where Alex was at that precise moment. It was just after five o’clock. She knew he would be making his way to the local bar with Greg to perform verbal surgery on the tactical brilliance of his beloved Chelsea. But where would he be spending the rest of the evening when his friends left to take their partners out to dinner? And more to the point, who with? The thought of him dating so soon after their break-up hit her in the chest like a whip of fire. Had he even been seeing someone else when she’d proposed? Was that the reason behind his refusal?
    Yes, that had to be the answer – someone else was involved! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Who was it? Probably someone he worked with in that soaring glass