Batter Off Dead by Tamar Myers

said that the high tide floats all boats—well, let me tell you that flattery does the same thing. I don’t think there is a person alive whose ego can’t be inflated at least a little by the right words, delivered by the right sycophant, at the right time. Yes, on an intellectual level I knew that I could not be compared to a rabbi or a priest, seeing as how I lacked (at least) another six years of education, but to have a respected banker compare me to them got my dinghy to bobbing like a fishing cork on Miller’s Pond come spring.
    I patted my bun to make sure the bit of cloth we refer to as a prayer cap was still in place. “Do you really think so?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve studied very little theology. What’s the use in raising questions, I always say, if one isn’t prepared to accept the answers—not that I couldn’t come up with a good answer if I really tried. Besides, one can always trot out the tried but true ‘When we get to Heaven someday the Good Lord will explain everything.’ ”
    George nodded solemnly. “Yes. And my first question will be: why did You create someone as frustrating as Magdalena?”
    I was stunned. “Moi?”
    “Admit it, Magdalena; you’d rather do anything than get down to brass tacks.”
    “Brass tacks hurt.”
    “Enough of this nonsense. Do you, or do you not, agree to keep the following information absolutely confidential on the grounds that you are, in effect, my clergy substitute?”
    Clergy substitute was almost as good as priest or rabbi, perhaps even better: I would have a title, but none of the responsibilities. In the world of religious nomenclature, I might even be described as a sugar-free lay minister.
    “I agree,” I said, perhaps with a wee bit too much enthusiasm.
    George left his desk and came around to stand over me. I suppose that his intent was to express his earnestness, but his expression simultaneously brought to mind President Richard Nixon and Ichabod Crane.
    “She was blackmailing me,” he whispered.
    “Over what?”
    He leaned so close, I could smell a MenthoLyptus lozenge on his breath. “It’s a good thing you’re sitting down, Magdalena,” he whispered, “because you’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”

10
    Dutch Baby with Cardamom Honey Apples
     
    Sometimes called a popover pancake, this audacious-looking flapjack is made in a large skillet. It puffs up, rising dramatically as it bakes in the oven. It is topped with sautéed apple slices laced with ground cardamom and sweetened with honey. Golden Delicious apples are best for this recipe because they keep their shape when cooked. The pancake takes 18 minutes to bake—just enough time to put together the apple topping.
     
    3 large eggs
¾ cup milk
¾ cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
    Cardamom Honey Apples (recipe follows)
    1. Preheat the oven to 400° F. Place an 8-by-10-inch cast-iron skillet or other heavy skillet with a heatproof handle in the oven.
    2. Combine the eggs, milk, flour, and sugar in a medium bowl and whisk until smooth. Using a pot holder, remove the skillet from the oven and add the butter; tilt the pan to melt the butter and coat the skillet. Add the batter all at once and immediately return the skillet to the oven.
    3. Bake until the pancake puffs up around the edges, 18 to 20 minutes.
    4. To serve the pancake, slide it from the skillet onto a large platter. Pour the Cardamom Honey Apples into the center. Cut into wedges and serve, distributing the topping evenly.
     
    Cardamom Honey Apples: Peel, quarter, and core 2 large Golden Delicious apples. Cut into thin wedges. Heat 1 tablespoon unsalted butter in a medium skillet until sizzling. Add the apple wedges and cook, stirring gently, until lightly browned on both sides. Sprinkle with ½ teaspoon ground cardamom and stir to coat. Add ½ cup honey and heat to boiling. Remove from heat; stir in 1 tablespoon fresh lemon