Mimi’s, probably—but there was no getting around it; the biscuits did come frozen. Could she say anything other than yes?
“Yes, but—” She tilted her chin up and tried to sound very matter-of-fact. “Yes. Fried chicken is our absolute specialty, so it’s made fresh here, from locally sourced chicken.” Just don’t mention the biscuits again. Chicken. “We bone it ourselves for the tenders. And we use Frannie’s original recipe for the seasoning—it’s over a hundred years old, her recipe. We’ve never changed it. It’s always exactly the way she made it, and then her son, and then his son.”
She could feel her voice rising as she went on about the chicken, and she smiled at Nancy, who had paused in answer to her look, and the chefs’. That was a good answer.
Nancy didn’t look happy; in fact, she looked horrified, but what else could Amanda have said? “We just keep frying up the same perfect chicken.”
Nancy turned away, probably not wanting to risk anyone bringing the conversation back around to the biscuits, but Tony Russell, following Nancy as she led the way to his usual table, stopped, leaning on his cane, and listened to Amanda.
“Never changed it? I’d have sworn you switched the chicken up some, few years back. It hasn’t tasted the same for a while now, to me.”
Gus was still giving the Russells’ table a last wipe, and they were all caught there, trapped in a conversation most of them didn’t want to be having, cameras on. Tony’s wife, behind him, rolled her eyes. “You let Amanda be, Tony. You’ve been saying that about everything for years. Nothing ever tastes the same to you.”
“No, this is different. I’ve been eating here since I was a kid, and it’s just never been the same. Not since Frank went. Must have changed the recipe.”
Nancy, in front of them both, didn’t turn around, but spoke over her shoulder. “There is no recipe, Tony. But it’s the same old chicken. There was even a jar of seasoning Frank mixed himself, for a while.”
Gus looked up, his sudden movement catching Amanda’s eye. “But—” He started to speak, then went back to wiping the table with a glance at the camera. “Never mind,” he said softly. She hadn’t realized he was so nervous.
No one else seemed to have noticed Gus’s interruption. “We just all miss them,” said Tony’s wife, giving him a gentle push. “Nothing’s the same.”
“I still say it’s different,” said Tony, although he walked on. “Never used to have all these cameras here, either.”
This time, his wife laughed outright. “I’d have kept him home if I could, Nancy.”
Nancy, now at their table and holding out a chair, did smile at that. “Not on a Friday night. Never. We’d have had to come see where you two were.”
Amanda suddenly realized this was her chance. “Let me get your drinks, Tony,” she said, and jumped out of her seat, nodding to James and Cary. “Gotta take good care of our regulars.” She rushed off, avoiding any further questions about what was and wasn’t frozen, although they’d pretty much covered it except for the desserts. It was hard for a small place to have a big menu without some help, and people expected at least a little variety. Buying the biscuits also meant they could serve them generously, in a basket on the table, instead of parceling them out with the chicken. It had been a good business decision, but maybe it made bad television.
Why did they even care? She’d watched three full seasons of Food Wars and never seen them ask this, and of course some of the restaurants were putting frozen stuff on the plate. Handling all your own vegetables just didn’t make economic sense, and no one more than a few miles from the ocean was serving up fresh shrimp and seafood. So why suddenly give Frannie’s, and her, a hard time about it? It wasn’t like they were serving frozen fried chicken.
Now Amanda was determined to evade the cameras, or at least offer them little of interest. She started moving fast and constantly. If she wasn’t seating people, she was carrying bar orders or busing tables. It helped that Frannie’s was so busy. Everyone needed an extra hand. Maybe she should have talked up the biscuit bakery, played up how they were helping another small business. But the desserts and the other stuff didn’t do that. Damn it, did they have to get absolutely everything right?
Or she could have lied. They used