Todd Montgomery

The Recipes of Madame Powell

With both hands, Matthew Powell cradled a cheap water-glass full of a half-bottle of washington merlot, and stared at the red brick fireplace in his late father’s living room. Rarely could he enjoy sitting in the renovated living space of the victorian home, and now he would have to decide if he wanted to keep the property for himself, a prospect that daunted him. His father Jacob bought the house when Matthew’s mother had passed four years prior, and a change of scenery was necessary to adapt to life in Pine Grove without her. “Always go back to the source, that’s what your mother would say. This house,” Jacob described to his son, “Is also known as ‘Powell Place’ to the local historians.”