Death of a Bacon Heiress (20 page)

The actress Rhonda Franklin asked me to write a few words in today's column about her dearest friend, Olivia Redmond, who you all know recently passed away. What you probably don't know is that Olivia and I forged our own friendship of sorts in the weeks preceding her untimely death, and this bond we shared over our love of bacon has been very special to me.

I had heard of the famous Redmond family as far back as I can remember. They had a summer home here on our island and were very much involved in the community. I remember when I was a little girl at a Fourth of July parade, I was awestruck by the dancing pieces of bacon and hamburgers and hotdogs on top of the massive Redmond Meats float. In reality those meats come to life were just local actors dressed in costumes, but I was mesmerized nonetheless. They would toss all us kids packs of bacon-flavored chewing gum as they passed by. I also remember Olivia herself, a teenager at the time, sitting on a makeshift throne, smiling and waving at the crowd. I idolized her. She was the closest thing to a celebrity I had ever seen at the time. I knew nothing about her, but she was inspiring to me sitting so high on that float, on top of the world. It was only later, as an adult, that I really got to know the woman behind the myth in my mind.

Olivia's family was always very generous with the locals. It was no secret that all those hotdogs we consumed at the high school football and basketball games during the school year and that delicious crispy bacon we enjoyed at our church breakfast fund-raisers were donated by the Redmond family, a tradition Olivia carried on when she took over as the company's CEO after her father's passing. Kindness and generosity are two admirable qualities she possessed. But I recently learned something about Olivia from a mutual friend (all right, most of you know I'm talking about Mona Barnes) that put her in a whole new light.

Olivia loved animals as a child. She befriended many of the cattle that grazed and grew on the Redmond family ranch even though from a very young age she was told the truth about her new friends, that they were being raised to feed many thousands of people in our country. She made it her mission to make sure those animals had the best life possible before they departed the farm. This innate caring on her part carried over into adulthood, and when Olivia went to work at the family company she overhauled many of the standard meat industry practices and focused on animal health and safety, taking a more organic and health conscious approach to how they raised their products, despite the initial impact it had on the family's profit margin.

She was a long way from when she was a little girl throwing lavish farewell parties for the cattle about to depart the family ranch when their time had come and inviting all her kindergarten friends over for hamburgers and hotdogs to say good-bye to all her cow friends. I know, I know. Those poor little kids probably didn't make the connection between the cattle they were playing with and those sizzling burgers on the grill, but cut them some slack, they were five years old.

It's tragic that we will no longer see Olivia Redmond around town during the summer months, but her legacy will live on. And I hear Redmond Meats is planning an even bigger and more elaborate float than last year for the Fourth of July parade. I know I will be celebrating by raising a glass and saying thank you to Olivia for giving us so many varieties of meat for countless memorable meals for many years to come. She will most certainly live on in our memories, in our hearts, and in my case, in my cholesterol, according to my doctor.

Today's recipe, in honor of Olivia, combines pasta and bacon and garlic. These are a few of my favorite things, to quote Julie Andrews from one of my all time favorite movies,
The Sound of Music
.

And if you're wondering what cocktail to serve with this mouthwatering pasta dish, worry no more! I love to serve my Easy Bellini. Trust me, you won't be disappointed!

 

 

 

Ingredients
1 bottle peach schnapps, chilled
One bottle of Prosecco or a sparkling wine, chilled

For one serving pour one ounce of the chilled peach schnapps in a champagne glass, then fill the glass with your chilled Prosecco, serve and enjoy!

 

 

 

Ingredients
2½ cups of rigatoni
4 to 6 slices of bacon, chopped (I like more bacon)
1 small onion, chopped
2 to 3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 10-ounce package frozen peas
2 large tomatoes, cut into bite-size pieces
¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, more for serving
Kosher salt and ground black pepper to taste

 

Cook the pasta according to the directions on the package. Reserve one cup of the cooking water; drain.

Meanwhile cook the chopped bacon in a large skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it begins to crisp, 6 to 8 minutes. Add the onion, garlic, salt, and pepper. Cook while stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft, another 6 to 8 minutes. Add the tomatoes and cook until the sauce begins to thicken. Add the peas and 1/4 cup grated Parmesan and heat until warmed through, 3 or 4 minutes.

Add the prepared pasta and half of the reserved pasta water to the sauce and stir to coat the pasta. Use more of the cooking water if too thick.

Serve with the extra Parmesan and let your taste buds do the talking.

Halloween was Hayley's favorite day of the year, but it was also incredibly dangerous.

Especially to her waistline.

All that candy.

The peanut butter cups.

The candy corn.

The mini Milky Way bars.

Of course, every year without fail, she would stock up on every sweet imaginable, more than all the trick or treaters who showed up at her door could possibly stuff into their orange plastic pumpkins they carried around the neighborhood.

No, she was always left with a sweets overflow, and then she carefully hid her stash from the kids so she could gorge in peace when they weren't home.

As office manager at the Island Times newspaper, it was also her responsibility to have candy on hand in case any tiny ghosts and goblins and witches and werewolves might come into the office with their parents. She didn't want them to leave disappointed.

So as the office wall clock inched closer to five o'clock, which was her usual quitting time, her eyes never left the ceramic bowl of Gummy Bears that sat within her easy reach. She was always after her kids, even now as young adults, not to indulge in treats before dinner, but those chewy, delectable Gummy Bears seemed to be calling her and making her mouth water.

Just try one.

Yeah, right.

One.

When had she ever stopped at just one?

The next thing she knew she was scooping up a fistful, popping them three or four at a time in her mouth, closing her eyes, relishing in the fruity taste and jelly bean texture.

“Good night, Hayley,” Bruce Linney said as he blew past her from the office bullpen, heading for the door.

Her mouth was full and she was chewing as fast as she could, but there were too many Gummy Bears in her mouth to swallow all at once, and she couldn't speak.

Bruce noticed her nonresponse and stopped at the door. “Everything all right?”

Hayley nodded.

Bruce took one look at the half empty Gummy Bear bowl and Hayley's bulging cheeks. It didn't take a detective to solve this one.

“Save some for the kids, okay, Hayley?”

Hayley narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose making as mean a face as possible given the fact she could hardly voice her displeasure at the moment.

Bruce winked at her, smiled, and disappeared into the chilly autumn evening as orange and red leaves from the tree next to the office swirled around him.

Hayley's harsh opinion of crime reporter Bruce Linney had softened during the previous six or seven months. They had worked together on a story for the paper, and discovered, much to both their surprise, that they actually didn't despise each other. In fact, they worked rather well together, and even though on occasion they still rubbed each other the wrong way, at least the constant bickering and barrage of insults had quietly subsided.

Bruce had also started working out at the gym more, and had trimmed some of his belly fat and put on some muscle. It was impossible not to notice. Although Hayley always loved a nice bearish man she could hold onto, there was also an attitude shift in Bruce as he shed his excess weight and felt recharged physically. He seemed more confident, happier, more at peace. Which was a big change from when he was smoking and drinking and barking at Hayley for her insistence on encroaching into his crime solving territory.

No, the new Bruce was far more palatable.

And dare she say, sexy.

Hayley stuffed another handful of Gummy Bears in her coat pocket for the five minute ride home. She promised to prepare a healthy meal for herself and the kids tonight.

Whenever they got home.

She rarely saw them anymore.

Gemma was back home from the University of Maine in Orono continuing her work-study program at the office of Dr. Aaron Palmer, Hayley's exboyfriend and town veterinarian, and Dustin, an aspiring filmmaker, was off wheeling and dealing, scouting locations and casting his next opus as if the small town of Bar Harbor was actually his own personal east coast version of Hollywood.

As Hayley pulled into her driveway, she chewed on her last Gummy Bear, which toppled out of her mouth into her lap as her jaw dropped.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

Right there on the front porch were two jack-o-lanterns that had not been there when she left for work this morning.

The kids hadn't been home all day. She knew that for a fact since she had spoken to both of them less than hour ago.

One of the pumpkins had been expertly carved into the face of Batman. The other was a dead on caricature of Harry Potter.

Batman was Dustin's favorite fictional character from childhood.

Harry Potter was Gemma's.

Hayley felt her heart beating faster, ready to burst out of her chest.

There was only one person in the world who could have left those jack-o-lanterns on the porch.

Her ex-husband Danny.

He used to carve those exact same drawings every year for the kids when they were little.

It was one of the few tasks he could be counted on to complete.

Hayley jumped out of her car and ran to the porch to inspect the jack-o-lanterns up close.

They were definitely Danny's handiwork.

Which could only mean one thing.

He was sending her a direct message.

He was letting her know he was back in town.

Which, in Hayley's mind, was hardly a good thing.

Because whenever Danny Powell showed up, trouble soon followed.

And Hayley had no clue at this point in time just how much trouble was ahead.

Big trouble.