I love my father. I really do. But he can also drive me completely nuts on occasion—like this morning.

Dad and I each own a restaurant. His is Solari’s, that old-school Italian seafood place out at the end of the Santa Cruz Wharf. I pretty much spent my childhood there, hanging out in its red leather booths after school, filling in coloring books with my set of 64 Crayola colors while Mom prepped the dining room for the evening service and Dad stood at the stove whipping up batches of cioppino and Bolognese sauce.

After my mother died of cancer a few years ago, Dad talked me into quitting my job at the law firm to come run the front of the house at Solari’s in my mom’s stead. But then, earlier this year I inherited my aunt’s trendy, upscale restaurant, Gauguin, after she was killed in that horrible murder I ended up helping solve.

Dad had never been fond of Gauguin to begin with, and referred to its farm-to-table menu as “rabbit food” (even though it offers—in addition to gorgeous vegetable dishes—such hearty fare as rib eye steaks with béarnaise sauce and duck confit). And recently he’s come to resent the place even more, now that it’s taken me away from Solari’s.

Anyway, back to my rant. Two days ago, Gauguin received a fabulous review in the local newspaper, and Javier—the Gauguin head chef—and I are simultaneously thrilled and terrified about the flood of reservations that have been pouring in ever since. The restaurant is now completely booked for the next three weeks as a result of the write-up and we’re both wondering, Do we even have enough staff to accommodate two full sittings per night?

So then, just this morning, my father drops a bombshell on me: He’s agreed to host that big ol’ sister-cities dinner early next month in honor of the mayor of Sestri Levanti, Italy, who’s coming to visit Santa Cruz. And guess who Dad has guilted into helping out with all the planning and with the dinner itself.

You got it: me.

I haven’t yet had the guts to tell Javier I’m going to be AWOL for a huge part of the next few crazy-busy weeks at Gauguin. But it’s not like my dad gave me much of a choice in the matter.

Oh yeah, and one more thing. This afternoon, during the plein air painting class my best pal Eric and I have been taking, my dog sniffed out the body of an Italian fisherman tangled up in a pile of kelp on the beach. Not only did I recognize the old man as one my dad’s regulars, but it turns out that the last time anyone saw him alive was leaving at Solari’s—reeling drunk.

Something tells me next few weeks are going to be very, very trying. . .

You can read more about Sally in Death al Fresco, the third book in the “Sally Solari” mystery series. The first book in the series is Dying for a Taste.

When her father is fingered for murder, it’s up to Sally Solari to serve up the real killer before their new restaurant’s reputation goes up in smoke in the delectable third Sally Solari mystery.

It’s early autumn in Santa Cruz and restaurateur Sally Solari, inspired by the eye-popping canvases of Paul Gauguin, the artist for whom her restaurant is named, enrolls in a plein air painting class. But the beauty of the Monterey Bay coastline is shattered during one of their outings when Sally’s dog sniffs out a corpse entangled in a pile of kelp.

The body is identified as Gino, a local fisherman and a regular at Sally’s father’s restaurant, Solari’s, until he disappeared after dining there a few nights before. But after witnesses claim he left reeling drunk, fingers begin to point at Sally’s dad for negligently allowing the old man to walk home alone at night. From a long menu of suspects, including a cast of colorful characters who frequent the historic Santa Cruz fisherman’s wharf, Sally must serve up a tall order in order to clear her father’s name.

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About the author
The daughter of a law professor and a potter, Leslie Karst learned early, during family dinner conversations, the value of both careful analysis and the arts—ideal ingredients for a mystery story. She now writes the Sally Solari Mysteries (Dying for a Taste, A Measure of Murder, Death al Fresco), a culinary series set in Santa Cruz, California. An ex-lawyer like her sleuth, Leslie also has degrees in English literature and the culinary arts.

You can visit Leslie on Facebook, and you can go to her author website at lesliekarstauthor.com to sign for her newsletter—full of recipes and fun Italian facts!—and to purchase all of her books.

All comments are welcomed.