Fic: Lyme Bay Fish Pie: Gen
Mar. 14th, 2022 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapi posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_minorHappy Pi Day!!
Title: Lyme Bay Fish Pie
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: Based on Agatha Christie's Sleeping Murder and is SPOILER for that work. Recipe from Favourite Dorset Recipes compiled by Amanda Persey.
Summary: After a case, Watson and Holmes enjoy a Devon fish pie.
I added the chopped spring onions to the butter and wild mushrooms Gwenda Reed was stirring.
I dared not say it aloud, for Holmes would surely greet so illogical a conclusion with unmitigated scorn, but I couldn’t help thinking that Dillmouth seemed an unlikely spot for so a grotesque a murder.
It was a small seaside town hemmed in by sandstone cliffs, charming, old fashioned, a sleepy, unremarkable jewel in the crown of Lyme Bay.
Gwenda stirred in the flour. “I can’t thank you and Mister Holmes enough, Doctor. When I met you, I was certain I was going mad.”
“We had no doubt of your sanity, my dear. You witnessed your mother’s murder as a small child. It is one of the most traumatic things a person can experience and survive.”
I poured the fish stock slowly into the large skillet. Gwenda kept stirring.
“I had forgotten everything, been sent to New Zealand to live with relatives, then somehow found my way back here, to Hillside, the very villa where it all happened. Do you believe in fate, Doctor?”
“There are moments when it seems foolish not to believe in it. Shall I add the wine, now?”
“Yes, please. Then would you mind cutting the tomatoes into strips?”
“Not at all.”
We worked in silence, then Gwenda said,
“He loved her. Doctor Kennedy loved my mother, his half-sister, that’s why he couldn’t bear for her to leave him and run away with my father.”
“That is not love, Gwenda. That’s obsession. Real love is unselfish and patience, like Giles’ for you.”
“You seem like the patient sort, too, Doctor,” Gwenda replied, pointedly looking from him to the sitting room where her husband and Sherlock Holmes were conversing. “Now for the important part. White fish, scallops, prawns, and tomatoes. Some chopped parsley, too, if you would be so kind.”
The next few minutes were occupied in transferring the seafood filling to a shallow dish.
“Will you stay here, my dear?” I asked.
“You know, I think I will, for a while at least, despite all the associations it has. Giles likes it here, too.”
“I never met a Devon man who didn’t swear by his county.”
Gwenda smiled, then she sighed and said, thoughtfully, “I like feeling close to her.”
“Then stay close.”
Gwenda nodded. “Will you melt some of that butter?”
She then produced a pan with sheets of very thin pastry. She arranged the sheets of filo pastry on top of the shallow pan, brushing each layer in turn with melted butter. She trimmed the pastry, then I added suitable flourishes of scoring across the top. Then the dish went into the oven.
Less than an hour later, we were enjoying the fruits of our labour.
“Mister Holmes, I was telling Doctor Watson that I didn’t know how we would repay them for helping us solve our ‘sleeping murder,’” said Gwenda.
Holmes consumed a forkful, then smiled and hummed. “Lyme Bay Fish Pie is more an ample compensation.”
Title: Lyme Bay Fish Pie
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: Based on Agatha Christie's Sleeping Murder and is SPOILER for that work. Recipe from Favourite Dorset Recipes compiled by Amanda Persey.
Summary: After a case, Watson and Holmes enjoy a Devon fish pie.
I added the chopped spring onions to the butter and wild mushrooms Gwenda Reed was stirring.
I dared not say it aloud, for Holmes would surely greet so illogical a conclusion with unmitigated scorn, but I couldn’t help thinking that Dillmouth seemed an unlikely spot for so a grotesque a murder.
It was a small seaside town hemmed in by sandstone cliffs, charming, old fashioned, a sleepy, unremarkable jewel in the crown of Lyme Bay.
Gwenda stirred in the flour. “I can’t thank you and Mister Holmes enough, Doctor. When I met you, I was certain I was going mad.”
“We had no doubt of your sanity, my dear. You witnessed your mother’s murder as a small child. It is one of the most traumatic things a person can experience and survive.”
I poured the fish stock slowly into the large skillet. Gwenda kept stirring.
“I had forgotten everything, been sent to New Zealand to live with relatives, then somehow found my way back here, to Hillside, the very villa where it all happened. Do you believe in fate, Doctor?”
“There are moments when it seems foolish not to believe in it. Shall I add the wine, now?”
“Yes, please. Then would you mind cutting the tomatoes into strips?”
“Not at all.”
We worked in silence, then Gwenda said,
“He loved her. Doctor Kennedy loved my mother, his half-sister, that’s why he couldn’t bear for her to leave him and run away with my father.”
“That is not love, Gwenda. That’s obsession. Real love is unselfish and patience, like Giles’ for you.”
“You seem like the patient sort, too, Doctor,” Gwenda replied, pointedly looking from him to the sitting room where her husband and Sherlock Holmes were conversing. “Now for the important part. White fish, scallops, prawns, and tomatoes. Some chopped parsley, too, if you would be so kind.”
The next few minutes were occupied in transferring the seafood filling to a shallow dish.
“Will you stay here, my dear?” I asked.
“You know, I think I will, for a while at least, despite all the associations it has. Giles likes it here, too.”
“I never met a Devon man who didn’t swear by his county.”
Gwenda smiled, then she sighed and said, thoughtfully, “I like feeling close to her.”
“Then stay close.”
Gwenda nodded. “Will you melt some of that butter?”
She then produced a pan with sheets of very thin pastry. She arranged the sheets of filo pastry on top of the shallow pan, brushing each layer in turn with melted butter. She trimmed the pastry, then I added suitable flourishes of scoring across the top. Then the dish went into the oven.
Less than an hour later, we were enjoying the fruits of our labour.
“Mister Holmes, I was telling Doctor Watson that I didn’t know how we would repay them for helping us solve our ‘sleeping murder,’” said Gwenda.
Holmes consumed a forkful, then smiled and hummed. “Lyme Bay Fish Pie is more an ample compensation.”
no subject
Date: 2022-03-14 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-14 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-14 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-14 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-16 03:10 pm (UTC)But I have to admit the "wild mushrooms" part made me nervous. Was this actually the murder weapon in progress?
no subject
Date: 2022-03-16 07:49 pm (UTC)No, I was just copying the recipe from a cookbook. The wild mushrooms were just mushrooms.