Part 2 (Bettina’s Birthday Gift continued)

How It Tasted

Iced Cantaloupe

As lightly as I chilled the melon it was still too much for my family—no one touched it. There was heavy coastal fog hanging low over the house, and cold cantaloupe on such a morning seemed as appealing as munching snow cones in in the heart of Antarctica.

Poached Egg on Toast

Filip: There’s egg yolk on my toast.

Not unsurprisingly these weren’t a hit with either me or my son. We both detest runny eggs and I almost gagged over every mouthful. Determined as I was to be a good sport I just couldn’t get this down--sorry, Bettina!

Toast

Toast is toast, but I was surprised at how quickly this stuff lost heat traveling from the oven to the table. And, although the toast was medium brown when ejected by the toaster, the pieces at the back of the oven turned several shades darker. I didn’t expect raves from my family over this commonplace dish—didn’t get any—didn’t care--I was still recovering from the sight and taste of the oozing egg yolks (see above).

Apple Sauce

Filip: Can you make this again?

Happily this dish made up for the runny eggs and the lackluster toast. It was superb—and that’s an adjective I don’t use lightly. The fact that I put too much cinnamon in it didn’t matter a bit as the texture was perfect and the sauce had just the right amount of sugar.

The downside, I suppose, is that my family is now going to balk at eating commercially canned or jarred sauce. The homemade stuff puts all supermarket brands to shame, and I’m sure to hear plenty of moans and groans the next time I serve up a bowl of Mott’s.

Would I Make This Again?

The answer is pretty obvious, at least as far as the eggs and the apple sauce are concerned—the eggs were so repulsive and the sauce so terrific I figure they kind of canceled each other out.

Thumbs down on the toast, though, at least as far as making it ahead of time and then trying to keep it hot in the oven. Which Bettina editor came up with that one? It seems an awful waste of time and, as I noted before, the bread doesn’t stop toasting during its time in the oven.

Chapter 11 (Bettina’s Birthday Gift)

Introduction

“Is the coffee done yet?”—Bob, the morning of Bettina’s birthday.

Um. OK.

Although Bob eventually does come through with a pre-breakfast game of tennis and a gift, the fact that it’s his wife’s birthday isn’t quite enough to motivate him to do any work in the kitchen. Fortunately Bettina takes matters in her own hands and for once prepares the simplest of meals (Bob’s reaction to this spartan breakfast isn’t recorded!)

Part 1

The Menu

Iced Cantaloupe

Poached Eggs on Toast

Toast

Apple Sauce

Coffee

Preparing the Meal

 Iced Cantaloupe

I’m not sure whether the cantaloupe in question is to chilled in the freezer, served in a bowl of ice chips, or both.

Well, in my mind both these options are a no-go with my family. Summertime it may be, but we live on the coast and most morning are foggy and damp. My husband and son would be astounded if they caught sight of ice chips on the breakfast table, or put something chilled to near freezing into their mouths.

Seems time for a compromise—I’ll put the melon in the refrigerator for a short period but not let it get ice-cold.

Poached Eggs on Toast

I’m not very happy about this dish, to be honest. I often make poached eggs for my husband, but both Son and I have a real aversion to runny egg yolk.

Still, I consider myself a sport and I guess I’m willing to give these another try. At least poached is about the easiest style of eggs to prepare, and I have a metal egg poacher to make it simpler still.

Toast

I’m not quite sure why an extra stack of toast is necessary when there’s already a slice under each egg, but this is Bettina’s world and so mine is not to wonder why…

Fortunately the recipe condones the use of a bread toaster (although I’m sure my modern pop-up model has little in common with the early 20^th century fit-over-the-stoveplate version).

But toasting the bread first and then popping it in the oven to stay hot seems like an unnecessary hassle. Why not toast it at the last minute and then bring it directly to the table? I have no idea.

Apple Sauce

I have some serious this doubts with this recipe, at least as recorded in the 1932 edition of the book. It’s not the ingredients that are raising the red flag, but rather the second edition’s insistence that the apples will cook down in “about five minutes”. Impossible!—especially as the fruit is to be simply cored and then tossed virtually whole into the pot.

But in the spirit of scientific inquiry I’m willing to give this a try, or at least note what the apples look like at roughly five-minute intervals.

9:28: Staring to cook

9:36: These should be finished by now--more than finished--as it’s been eight minutes. But they haven’t even begun to soften…!

9:47: Definitely not done

9:53: Good grief, it’s been fifty-five minutes and these are only beginning to cook down!

10:01: Progress

10:14: It’s been forty-six minutes and I now say to heck with this experiment. I’m going to mash these apples up, add the sugar, and then force them through a strainer to filter out the uncooked bits.

How It Looked

 

Part 2 (Ruth Inspects Bettina’s Kitchen continued)

How It Tasted

Pinwheel Biscuits

Much to my surprise these actually turned out well—far better the than doughy lumps I made before with this recipe. I really couldn’t describe them as Bettina does (“delicious!”), but rolling the dough ½ thick and keep a sharp eye on the cooking time made a world of difference.

The only real problem with these biscuits were their pale tops. Without a brushing of milk or egg white they looked terribly undercooked and not very appetizing when I pulled them out of the oven.

Gingerale Salad

Filip: Argh!

Milomir: Argh!

Me: Argh!

Yes, we three really did gag in unison—the salad was that bad. Mixing white cherries, pineapple, and lemon gelatin together produces a sour power no vinegar can match, and the zingy salad dressing on top made if ten times worse. Even my son—a Warheads addict if there ever was one—couldn’t eat this mess.

China Chews

I had little doubt these cookies would be well-received, but their pleasant sweetness and chewy texture had little to do with it.

No, it was the dried fruit in them that won DH’s heart. Still recovering from surgery, these cookies served as a wake-up call to his sluggish GI tract—it was like someone fired a starting pistol. He ate three, spent a good chunk of the evening in the bathroom—and woke the next morning a much happier man.

Who needs prune juice or Metamucil when you can simply eat one of these babies? They taste better, are easy to make, and work better than a fistful of laxative.

Would I Make This Again?

Pinwheel biscuits? Probably not—although they came out far better this time they just aren’t as tender as pastries made with yeast.

Gingerale Salad? Never never!—unless I ever need my own Weapon of Mass Destruction. This is a salad to serve to troublesome neighbors, the clerk at the DMV, or anyone else you want to get back at.

China Chews? I’d make these again in a heartbeat—in fact my husband has already requested another batch. They tasted good the day I served them and even better the next—like fruitcake they really seem to improve with age.

Chapter 10 (Ruth Inspects Bettina’s Kitchen)

Introduction

Bettina’s heart is going pitty-pat this fine summer morning—but why? Has Bob promised her a fur coat? Is there a baby on the way?

No—even better! a chance for Bettina to show off the kitchen to her friend Ruth and provide some much-needed advice.

And of course this behind-the-scenes tour includes such important info as where to place the kitchen sink (“a very important piece of furniture”)-- what supplies to purchase (“this roll of paper towels by the sink is very convenient!”)--the quickest way to break a man to kitchen duty (“Let him help fix things up!”)—plus a recipe to boot!

Part 1

The Menu

Pinwheel biscuits

Gingerale Salad (1932 edition)

China Chews (1932 edition)

An odd Bettina vignette in which no real meal is prepared or served. The 1918 edition of the book offers only a recipe for pinwheel biscuits, and in 1932 recipes for gingerale salad and China Chews were added.

Well, as far as I’m concerned less is more where Bettina is concerned. After struggling through so many elaborate meals I’m looking forward to preparing just a few simple snacks.

Preparing The Meal

Pinwheel Biscuits

This recipe brings back some less-than-pleasant memories of that disastrous Ladies’ Luncheon (Chapter 4) and a seemingly unsolvable puzzle in connection with these biscuits:

The cutter worked like a charm, and with minimal effort I got the dough mixed and onto a floured board. It was only after I’d patted it down to the required height that I realized there was a problem: a 6 X 4 X 1 rectangle that was supposed to be rolled up lengthwise and somehow cut into 16 one-inch slices.

Chalking this weird dilemma up to a typo in the book I cut the dough into six pieces, popped them in the oven, and made a mental note to try to figure it out later.

Now “later” has arrived, and I still don’t have a solution. So I’ll take it step by step and hope the old Bettina magic kicks in at some point.

My trusty pastry cutter

One of my smartest purchases ever and so much better than slashing the flour and lard in the traditional way with two knives.

As the dough was so crumbly I added slightly more milk than the recipes called for.

Time to apply the rolling pin—I’ve decided that rolling out the dough ½ inch thick is my only option.

Not the tidiest rectangle of dough I’ve ever seen, but OK…

Spread with melted butter, sugar, cinnamon, and raisins…

Even rolling out the dough to ½ inch didn’t produce 16 one inch slices, but this is a lot better than the six doughy clods I eked out last time.

And into the oven. We’ll see (fingers crossed)

Gingerale Salad

I’m going to be diplomatic here and say that this salad sound interesting—certainly better than those cream cheese/olive/gelatin monstrosities that came into vogue in the 50s. How can gelatin mixed with canned fruit ever really fail?

One interesting note: the recipe calls for pineapple but doesn’t specify anywhere that it must canned. I’m no kitchen whiz, but even I know the enzymes in fresh or frozen pineapple will prevent Jello from congealing (as the box clearly states).

The salad proved simple to mix, but I did wonder if the pineapple and cherries would sink straight to the bottom of the mixture.

No need to be concerned. This dessert is so cram-jammed with fruit that there’s barely room for the gelatin.

Topping gelatin with salad dressing (thinned with sour cream) seems a bit odd—wouldn’t whipped cream be more appropriate? But some ten meals into Bettina’s book I’ve learned to make her recipes exactly as written, at least the first time. You never know…

China Chews

Added in the 1932 edition, the ingredients in this cookie recipe—dates, nuts, brown sugar--lead me to believe it might be unusually good. My cookies generally come out too hard, but here the dried fruit added to the dough is practically a guarantee that the end product will be soft and chewy.

I never realized how sticky chopped dates are...

After twenty minutes of baking time these looked good and smelled even better. It’s too soon to be sure, but these appear be a real winner. All they need now  is a dusting of powdered sugar.

Part 2 (Uncle John and Aunt Lucy Make a Visit continued)

How It Tasted

Jellied Beef

Filip: What is this? [stabs with fork]

Milomir: It’s Spam, isn’t it?

Table talk quickly devolved into a game of 20 Questions as my dining companions tried to identify this mystery meat. DH was visibly rattled by the appearance of the dish, and Son eyed his portion as if expecting it to slither off the plate.

But once we got past the appearance of the beef and its rubbery texture (no easy task, to be sure) it really wasn’t bad. The gelatinized beef has pleasant, meaty flavor and the tangy homemade salad dressing was a good accompaniment.

Potato Chips

The presence of these homemade chips on the table was a surprise to everyone, and a pleasant one at that. My son was delighted and asked me to make these again—the first time he’s ever requested a repeat of any Bettina dish. They were definitely the star of the menu and, needless to say, devoured to the last fragment.

Radishes

Milomir: Maybe next time you could grate these?

Yes, these radishes looked very attractive in their bed of chipped ice…and for the most part that’s where they stayed as only my husband seemed inclined to take a sample. For some reason everyone seemed to view them as a table centerpiece: pretty, but no more edible than a bowl of waxed fruit.

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Filip: Why is there lettuce in mine?

I got more strange looks from my husband and son over these sandwiches—on the face of it, peanut butter combined with lettuce seems pretty darn odd.

But once again I was surprised—as bizarre as these sandwiches seemed, they really did taste good. The crisp lettuce gave some much-needed texture to the soft bread and the peanut butter, and adding butter and salad dressing to the latter lightened it considerably.

Lots of moans and groans as I insisted everyone try at least a bite, but in the end all the sandwiches were eaten.

Almond Ice Box Cookies

These cookies—and I use that term loosely—were a huge disappointment. As they didn’t contain any almond extract it’s no surprise they didn’t have much flavor, but the texture was unexpectedly vile: so cement-like they didn’t even break when I accidently dropped one on the floor.

In their pre-sliced, unbaked state these were two wooden cylinders wrapped in waxed paper…now I was faced with a batch of roofing shingles on the cookie plate. No one was enthusiastic about tasting these horrid slabs, and after the first bite the consternation at the table was so great I threw the whole mess in the trash.

Fresh Pears

Fresh, yes…but so hard they didn’t even bruise when Filip grabbed one by the stem and smacked it on the table. I had expected the jellied beef to be the biggest failure of the meal, but it wasn’t even a close second to these green monstrosities. The beef at least could be eaten—these boulders would have choked us had we tried.

Iced Tea

No, my pitcher isn’t water stained…the smudges are in fact picturesque bubbles the manufacturer imbedded in the glass.

As per the recipe I added sugar, ice, and lemon before serving the tea, and in the end it proved critical to our collective digestion (by this stage of the meal it was obvious the combination of gluey beef and rock-hard cookies wasn’t sitting well with our stomachs).

Would I Serve This Again?

I didn’t go into this antiquated meal with high expectations and so wasn’t really disappointed by my husband and son’s tepid reactions. I’m sure for them most of these dishes were the stuff of nightmares, but looking back the meal definitely had its humorous moments: the gelatinized beef wobbling on our plates—my son trying to soften a pear by banging it on the table—the cookies that remained their rock-hard selves even after being soaked in tea.

But the homemade potato chips were a definite repeat, the iced tea refreshing, and I personally enjoyed the sandwiches. So when the dishes were good they were very very good…and the rest? items fit for a bomb shelter or those guests you never want to come back.

Chapter 9 (Uncle John and Aunt Lucy Make A Visit)

Introduction

 Yet another meal to be served to guests…this time (fortunately) the mild-mannered Uncle John and his equally placid wife, Lucy.

Caught in an unexpected rainstorm they succumb to Bettina’s arm-twisting to “have a little lunch with us” and then to “stay here all night!”

Given that a grand tour of Bettina’s kitchen is included and, at the last moment, a lavish breakfast thrown in—who could resist such an offer?

Part 1

The Menu

Jellied Beef

Potato Chips

Radishes

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Almond Ice Box Cookies (1932 edition)

Fresh Pears

Iced Tea

Preparing the Meal

Jellied Beef

I had a chunk of leftover pot at the ready, and dicing it into bits was no trick.

But once again the quantity of raw materials listed in the recipe didn’t seem to take into consideration the generous size of standard kitchenware. With only 1½ cups of gelatinized beef to work with there was no mold suitably small enough, and my second choice—a three-cup mixing bowl—was too large also.

The beef mixture was simple enough to prepare, but ugh…it looked pretty unappetizing after being poured into a ceramic cereal bowl. The thought of serving up this concoction to my family made me shudder--whatever the taste it looked revolting. I can’t imagine it’s going to appear any tastier after congealing in the fridge for a few hours, but oh well—this Bettina wanna be does her best.

Potato Chips

After the distress caused by the appearance of the jellied beef (see above) I decided to go the extra mile and serve homemade potato chips rather than a bag purchased from the supermarket.

None of Bettina’s books contain a recipe for homemade chips, so I was forced to search for a recipe I vaguely recalled in one of the Jane and Michael Stern’s Square Meals. Happily I was able to locate it, and on first reading seemed simple enough…

Alas cutting five large potatoes into paper-thin slices was murder on my wrist and an even greater trial on my patience. It took me an agonizingly long time to get the potatoes ready and then, after soaking the slices in ice water, I realized that the cord to my electric fryer had somehow disappeared.

Down but not out I decided to instead use the stovetop, a deep kettle, and a thermometer to regulate the heat. Women have been deep frying for centuries without electric pans and automatic cookers, so how hard could it be?

…not hard at all, much to my surprise. Frequent use of the thermometer and a certain amount of twiddling with the knobs on the stove kept the temperature more or less in the safe zone, and the chips looked great after I lifted them from the pan. They were a bit darker in color than I would have liked maybe, but the texture was excellent and they were absolutely, undeniably 100% fresh.

Radishes

Radishes simply de-leafed, scrubbed clean, and plunked in a bowl of ice chips— a huge relief after all that torturous potato cutting I’d done earlier.

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Ordinary peanut butter simply spread on bread? Not on Bettina’s table!

I’ve noticed that those Bettina’s thousand ways of pleasing a husband usually involve frou-frou elevated to the nth degree, and this recipe was no exception.

Plain old peanut butter simply wouldn’t do here—as instructed I added butter and salt, whipped it with salad dressing (gulp), spread it on the bread, and--the Bettina trademark—inserted a leaf or two of lettuce into each sandwich.

I have to admit that these are like no sandwiches I’ve ever seen, but they certainly are—well—different.

Almond Ice Box Cookies

 These cookies didn’t appear in the original edition of the book, but they seemed easy enough to make and would (I thought) be a nice addition to the fresh pairs listed on the menu.

 The recipe claimed that the ingredients mixed would produce a “stiff dough”, and it really wasn’t exaggerating. After rolling the dough into two wax-papered cylinders I realized I had a couple of formidable weapons in my hands—perfect for clonking burglars over the head or, in a more domestic moment, driving nails into the walls for pictures.

Pears

Pear season it ain’t.

I had a terrible time finding fresh pairs in any of my three regular supermarkets, and those that I finally located were hard as rocks.

This might have not mattered if I’d bought this fruit a day or two before—the pears could have been placed in a paper bag and allowed to ripen further. But no, I foolishly put it off until the last moment, and these green clonkers were the result.

Iced Tea

This seemed the perfect beverage for a light lunch/supper, and I knew my husband and son would chug it down.

I did happen to have some loose tea in the pantry, but unfortunately I failed to notice that the edges of the tea infuser didn't quite meet until after the tea was brewed. After spotting a layer of brown dust floating on the surface of the water I had no choice but to throw it out.

After trying and failing a second time I abandoned the diffuser and hauled out a box of Lipton’s. And, as un-Bettina like as it seemed to have 6 modern tea bags floating in the pot, it seemed to work just fine. After straining the tea I poured it into a pitcher and placed it in the refrigerator to chill, gathered some mint leaves to add later, and made sure I had plenty of ice ready.

How It Looked

Part 2 (Celebrating the Fourth Continued)

How It Tasted

Lobster and Salmon Salad

Happily this salad survived the trip…when we opened the cooler it was still thoroughly chilled. The only flaw was the overcooked lobster meat—rather like chewing a mouthful of rubber bands. The taste was good though, but I longed for a handful of crackers to toss upon the salad.

Ham Sandwiches

With only 3 1/2 sandwiches to divide amongst the four of us I wondered beforehand who was going to get the short end of the stick. But this turned out not to be a problem as everyone (including me) only managed a single nibble. The bite of the green olives and chopped pickles combined set our collective hair on end! One taste was enough, more than enough in fact.

Nut Bread Sandwiches

Dry, oh so very very dry. Even the butter spread on the bread was no help, and in the end we fed the sandwiches to a flock of very happy ducks.

Pickles

These were fine, in fact great. As I said before I love pickles, and Vlassic Dills are my favorites.

Radishes

Much to my surprise these radish rosettes consented to open up by lunchtime, and there were reasonably well received by my hungry crew. The radishes lent some much-needed color to the meal, and their snap gave our taste buds a much-needed jolt after the bitter-tasting ham sandwiches and the dry-as-dust nut bread.

Devilled Eggs

Unlike the recipe I generally use these didn’t require onions—much to their detriment, I’m afraid. I never realized before that onions and the parsley I sometimes toss in add some visual interest to the filling—Bettina’s version looked like eggs freshly pulled from boiling water and then simply cut in half.

Potato Chips

Everyone really chowed down on these…by the end of lunch the party-sized bag I brought along was 2/3 empty.

Moist Chocolate Cake

Filip: What is this—gingerbread?

Well, gingerbread mixed with chocolate, I suppose. I myself enjoyed this—it certainly was different—but the boys merely toyed with their slices and my husband wasn’t impressed.

Bananas and Oranges

As expected everyone passed these by—such ordinary fruit couldn’t compete with fresh peaches, cherries, or nectarines.

Torpedo Candies

For some reason or other everyone  found the sight of the candies was amusing. When I filled the star-shaped ceramic bowl with these pink-and-white pellets the boys stared at them for a moment, then at me, and finally started giggling. It did seem like an odd choice for a picnic lunch, but in the end the dish was half-emptied.

Lemonade

I was the only one who drank any of this—the boys insisted on sodas and my husband had smuggled a can of his favorite beer into the picnic cooler.

But I have to admit that Bettina’s lemonade was far better than the bottled stuffed I generally buy. Tt tasted freshly-squeezed and really was refreshing on such a hot day. An extra spoonsful or two of sugar added would have made it better still, but to me this drink was a winner.

Would I Make This Again?

No, I probably would not—the ham sandwiches and nut bread were failures, and the fruit and the cake weren’t well-received. We all seemed to enjoy the lobster salad, I liked the lemonade, and the pickles and chips were eaten with gusto, but frankly this picnic lunch wasn’t worth even a quarter of the effort it took to make it.

Nor in the end was I too pleased with the overall effect of the red, white, and blue decorations. “Corny but festive” paper plates look sad and forlorn when they’re covered with food stains, and I was a bit disconcerted to see the American flag (even in sticker form) being buried under scoops of gooey salmon salad.