Savory Spiral
(Part of the "30 Days of Fright" Challenge with
- Imagine a person being used as bait. )(Continued from Day 25)
I spent too long letting others make the moves—reacting instead of leading. But this time, the danger isn’t chasing me.
I’m walking straight toward it.
This review wasn’t just about food. It was strategy. I’ve played their game long enough. Now I’m writing the rules. If stepping into the fire is what it takes to get answers, then so be it.
I’m not just the bait. I’m the spark.
The Review: Published 8:47 a.m.
Restaurant Review: The Bitter Herb
A quiet storefront with no posted hours and fewer windows than a restaurant should reasonably have. Inside, the decor leans toward the dramatic—dark wood, low candlelight, and music that never quite resolves.
The smoked gouda macaroni was unexpectedly elegant, served in a wide-rimmed bowl with rosemary oil that drifted like perfume. A gougère arrived without announcement, nestled beside the plate. Filled with a whipped cheddar mousse and smeared with tomato jam, it felt too curated to be random.
While discussing seasonal sourcing, the server casually mentioned a new distributor—Bellamy. The name passed through like a shadow. No elaboration. Just an odd pause and a quick redirect to the wine list.
Service was smooth and professional, each detail arriving as if orchestrated with care. Timing, temperature, even the quiet nod between courses—everything felt deliberate, almost rehearsed. When offered dessert, I politely declined. Something about the meal already felt final—satisfying in a way that didn’t invite sweetness. The server nodded, as if that had been the right answer.
Four stars. The Bitter Herb balances flavor and atmosphere with unsettling precision. Something is always simmering just out of sight—and that might be the most intentional dish of all.
The moment the review went live, everything shifted. The house held its breath.
The package arrived just after noon- delivered by courier with no sender listed. Inside, a linen-wrapped menu card, printed in heavy script:
Thursday. 9:45 p.m. Transportation arranged. Final course begins. Your presence completes the menu.
We were halfway through our second pot of coffee. The kitchen smelled faintly of toast and cinnamon from breakfast. A quiet tension filled the room. He was still there—a presence felt more than spoken. Our eyes met briefly over the rim of my cup, neither saying what was obvious. My sister sat curled in the armchair, hugging her knees, silent but watchful.
I held up the note for the lawyer. He read it, then looked at me.
“You’re not going alone,” he said.
“I have to look alone.”
“You will,” he replied. “But I’ll be nearby. And I’m not coming alone either.”
My sister finally spoke. “So it’s happening.”
I nodded. “It’s already started.”
I stood and moved to the fridge. “Who’s hungry?”
Their attention shifted as I pulled out spinach, turkey, and the last of the pastry dough. My hands worked without thought—mix, roll, slice. The rhythm calmed me.
RECIPE: Savory Turkey, Spinach, and Cheese Pinwheels
Ingredients:
1 sheet puff pastry, thawed
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella or provolone
1/2 cup cooked turkey breast, finely chopped
1/2 cup fresh spinach, chopped
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a bowl, mix cream cheese, garlic powder, turkey, spinach, and shredded cheese.
3. Roll out puff pastry on a lightly floured surface. Spread the filling evenly across the pastry.
4. Roll tightly into a log and slice into 1-inch rounds.
5. Place on the baking sheet, brush tops with egg wash.
6. Bake 15–18 minutes, until golden and puffed.
Flaky, warm, and satisfying. A bite-sized strategy hidden in layers.
Pairs well with tension, shadows, and being pushed a little too far.
As a big mad foodie, I absolutely love your work. This is fantastic; as much a feast for the reader as for the belly. Love it!