{"id":178,"date":"2011-01-11T06:00:44","date_gmt":"2011-01-10T19:00:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=178"},"modified":"2013-09-27T15:53:06","modified_gmt":"2013-09-27T22:53:06","slug":"aged-porterhouse-with-pepper-brandy-sauce","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=178","title":{"rendered":"Season 1: Episode 7"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Running his hands through his dark, tousled hair, Johnny\u2019s velvety brown eyes surveyed the interior of Medina.<\/i> The tapas bar where he was sommelier and part-owner was empty.<\/p>\n

In fact, the whole of Melbourne still seemed to be in that peaceful, post-holiday daze. Not that his business was suffering, mind you. Another brilliant write-up last week in one of the city\u2019s best food guides had seen hordes of tourists and locals flocking in to sample Medina’s<\/i> innovative Middle Eastern menu and spectacular wine list. Tonight, though, the rush had come early so, even though it had only just hit 11pm, the place didn’t have a soul in it.<\/p>\n

Opening a beer, Johnny wandered through to the small kitchen to check in with his business partner and head chef, Franco. He’d already sent the staff home and when it was quiet like this Franco would usually cook a late dinner for the two of them \u2013 something that wasn\u2019t on the menu \u2013 and they would sit for hours eating and drinking and reminiscing about their days sweating it out as kitchen hands and busboys all across Melbourne.<\/p>\n

\u201cI had a feeling about tonight!\u201d exclaimed Franco as Johnny sauntered through the kitchen’s swinging doors. \u201cI\u2019ve been marinating this incredible piece of aged porterhouse for 12 hours. I got it on my last trip to Gippsland. I was going to put it on the menu, but I just had this feeling that we could enjoy it instead.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny laughed. It wasn\u2019t the first time that Franco had saved the choicest morsels for them to enjoy. This was a man passionate about his food.<\/p>\n

He wandered back into the bar area, taking another sip of beer. Crouching in front of one of the bar’s many wine racks, he started perusing the selection for a bottle of red to match the steak.<\/p>\n

“Hello?” a voice called into the empty space. “Are you open? I didn\u2019t see a sign on the door…\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny looked up to see a woman standing in front of the bar. If a customer came in at the end of the night he would usually have turned them away, but there was something about this one. She was a little older than him \u2013 pushing 40, perhaps \u2013 and stylish, not a single dark blonde hair out of place. His eyes travelled slowly over her body as he stood up, taking in the straight, dark pencil skirt that hugged her round hips and the pink silk shirt that clung to her torso. Johnny liked older women. \u00a0Well, no. To be fair he liked all women \u2013 but he\u2019d found that, like a good wine, more complex inner flavours were often brought to the surface with age.<\/p>\n

She cocked her head to one side, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. \u201cSo, do I pass?\u201d<\/p>\n

Busted! Johnny grinned sheepishly. \u201cWhat can I get you?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at the bottle in his hand. \u201cA glass of that would be nice.\u201d Crossing her legs elegantly as she sat on a bar stool she said, \u201cI don\u2019t suppose the kitchen is open? I\u2019m ravenous!\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny shrugged. Why not? This woman intrigued him.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Franco winked at Johnny when he came back into the kitchen. \u201cLuckily I\u2019ve got three pieces,\u201d he said, gesturing to the porterhouse. \u201cAnd I think I\u2019ll have mine to go.\u201d In truth, Franco \u2013 who was married, with his second daughter on the way \u2013 wanted nothing more than for Johnny to settle down and be as sublimely happy in domestic bliss as he was. And the woman at the bar was seriously beautiful. Not to mention mature. Unlike the usual young girls who stayed way past closing time hoping for the handsome, brown-eyed bar tender to notice them.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Johnny and the woman ate in silence, side-by-side, slowly slicing into the tender pieces of meat, the steak juices flowing onto their plates and mingling with the pepper brandy sauce. Johnny reached across the bar and refilled her glass. She leaned in to him as he did so.
\nThey chatted \u2013 idle banter \u2013 he had seen enough of interest in the small tapas bar to never run out of anecdotal material.\u00a0A few glasses later, he locked the front door and switched off the house lights. The woman made no move to leave. His heartbeat quickened a little as he picked up their half-finished bottle of red, took her hand and silently led her to the staircase.<\/p>\n

They were halfway up the stairs when she suddenly grabbed him, pulling him towards her in a smooth embrace. They moved together as one mess of arms, hands and lips. As she fumbled with his belt, he stopped her by grasping her wrists firmly in his free hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

He pointed her up the stairs again, and gently pushed her towards the second floor. \u00a0She would soon understand why \u2013 one of the rooms was dimly lit, with an inviting set of couches. On the table was a very decent bottle of Pinot and a couple of glasses. Johnny almost laughed \u2013 Franco had obviously seen where this was heading.<\/p>\n

Johnny pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply. \u00a0She moaned and leaned her head back as Johnny lifted her shirt, exposing a delicate lace bra. \u00a0Pushing him back onto the couch, she straddled him and unbuttoned her skirt, revealing matching underwear.
\nThen she got back to his belt.<\/p>\n

For what seemed like hours \u2013 certainly for several bottles\u2019 worth of time \u2013 the two alternated between tastes of the flesh and the grape.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Johnny slowly opened his eyes. Judging from the light coming through the windows, and the morning chorus of rubbish trucks and street sweepers, he guessed it was about 6:30am. He heard a tap running in the restaurant. Throwing on his jeans, he went downstairs.<\/p>\n

Putting down her glass of water, the woman smiled. \u201cGood morning,\u201d she said. She looked a lot fresher than Johnny felt. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to wake you. I can show myself out.\u201d<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t hurt, exactly, but he had to admit it was a weird feeling. He usually had to beat them off with a stick! Still, he wasn\u2019t in any hurry for a relationship, intriguing as this woman was.\u00a0Reaching into his pocket he produced his keys. \u201cAh, but you need these to open the door,” he said. “You can\u2019t escape so easily!\u201d<\/p>\n

Sunlight hit him in the face as he pulled open the door. He held up his hands to shield his eyes and stepped outside.<\/p>\n

A bemused voice cut through the glare. \u201cJohnny?\u201d<\/p>\n

It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light and see who had spoken.<\/p>\n

Mia?<\/p>\n

Johnny was suddenly very aware that all he was wearing was jeans.<\/p>\n

\u201cMia, what are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n

His friend shrugged, \u201cI\u2019m on my way to work. I didn\u2019t realise you slept at the restaurant sometimes. Must have been a busy night!\u201d<\/p>\n

Before he could answer, the woman from the bar stepped through the door and, blowing a kiss over her shoulder, walked away down the small cobbled laneway.<\/p>\n

Mia\u2019s eyebrows shot up. \u201cA very busy night!\u201d She\u2019d heard stories about Johnny\u2019s antics from the others, but had never actually caught him in the act, herself.<\/p>\n

For the second time in 12 hours Johnny felt like he\u2019d been busted doing something he shouldn\u2019t have. \u201cI can explain…\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia looked at the ground, flustered, before laughing awkwardly. \u201cWhat you do is your business. You don\u2019t have to explain yourself to me.\u201d She turned and walked quickly away from the restaurant.<\/p>\n

No I don\u2019t<\/i>, thought Johnny. So why do I feel like I want to?<\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Running his hands through his dark, tousled hair, Johnny\u2019s velvety brown eyes surveyed the interior of Medina. The tapas bar where he was sommelier and part-owner was empty. In fact, the whole of Melbourne still seemed to be in that peaceful, post-holiday daze. Not that his business was suffering, mind you. Another brilliant write-up last […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes"},"categories":[197],"tags":[11,110,146,160,174],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/178"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=178"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/178\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1165,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/178\/revisions\/1165"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=178"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=178"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=178"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}