At the Pass

The tart came out too dark at the edges. The head cook marked it for the bin.

“It smells like coffee,” said the apprentice.

“It smells like a mistake.”

The apprentice cut a corner, tasted it, and asked for salt. The cook watched him sprinkle it over the crust.

At table four, a woman had asked for the darkest slice. The waiter had laughed, thinking she was joking. The apprentice carried the plate out himself.

She ate the corner first. “Tell whoever made this I want the next one the same.”

Back in the kitchen, the head cook handed the apprentice the bowl of pastry dough. “You can try again,” she said. “Keep the salt near.”