Chapter 13 (Bob Helps With The Dinner)

Introduction

Kudos Bettina! your Bob is finally whipped into shape. After a long day at the office he comes home, heads straight for the kitchen, and *gasp* begins to mash the dinner potatoes without even being asked!

It sounds like the start of a very promising meal: no guests (troublesome or otherwise), just a quiet, cozy dinner for two. What young married couple could ask for anything  more?

Part 1

The Menu

Creamed Veal

Mashed Potatoes

Stuffed Tomatoes Bettina

Bread

Butter

Sliced Peaches

Cream

Coconut Cake

Iced Tea

Preparing the Meal

Creamed Veal

With no leftover veal to prepare this dish I had no choice but to buy some fresh at the supermarket. That pretty much negated the penny-pinching virtues of this dish and, still worse, the only veal available was osso bucco. I’m not familiar with the cut but, judging by the looks of it, it was cut directly from the leg of an unfortunate calf.

Despite its price osso bucco has an awful lot of bone and not much else, so its fortunate the recipe only calls for a cup of meat. Given the boniness of the chunk I really had no choice but to simmer it in my decidedly modern crockpot—I couldn’t fry it up, and there wasn’t enough meat there to roast it in the oven.

So into the pot it went along with water, seasonings, and a cube of beef bouillon. When tender I separate what little meat there was from the bone, chopped it up, and plan to mix it with a white sauce.

Mashed Potatoes

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Bettina’s practice of peeling potatoes before boiling them--so much better and easier, I believe, to remove the skins after the potatoes are cooked.

This is the first time I’ve made mashed potatoes a la Bettina, and for once I was determined to stick to traditional ways, ie no electric mixer. I’ve been making mashed potatoes for years, and for me this marvelous device is key to getting the potatoes nice and fluffy. Still, it must be possible to do it entirely by hand—Bettina does, right?--and so I feel obligated to give it a try.

Time to start mashing

Not so easy, as I soon discovered. After about five minutes of effort and total arm exhaustion I gave up, dumped the squashed tubers in a ceramic casserole, and shoved them in the oven to stay warm.

Well, so much for Bettina’s denunciation of mashed potatoes with “a single lump in them!” I admire her drive for perfection and can never hope to duplicate it, but then I don’t have the Bob’s muscly tennis arm at my disposal!

Stuffed Tomatoes Bettina

In the chapter’s opening vignette Bettina boasts that these tomatoes are her personal creation, and they really do sound intriguing. I and my family enjoy any number stuffed vegetables—peppers, squash, cabbage—so these tomatoes have real potential.

Removing the pulp was harder than expected. I used a pointed teaspoon and tried to excavate oh-so carefully, but despite my efforts I did manage to poke a hole in two of the tomato shells. Well, those holes can be plugged up with bits of bread crust and (hopefully) no one will notice.

On to the stuffing…It consists of bread crumbs, leftover (canned) peas and carrots, a tablespoon of chopped ham, paprika, egg, and melted butter. Rather surprisingly no salt or pepper is included, and also not a bit of onion.

Ready for stuffing

Not bad. Now into the oven to alongside the potatoes.

Sliced Peaches

What could be easier to prepare than a bowl of sliced peaches?

Plenty, as it turned out.

My difficulties began when I decided to skin the peaches as I had the tomatoes: cut an X in the bottom of each fruit, boil for a minute or so, plunge in cold water, and then slip of the skins.

It worked great with the tomatoes, but with the peaches—no. Even after reboiling and a second cold water bath the skins remained cemented on. I finally had to get out my vegetable peeler and scrape the peaches clean.

I’m guessing the peaches weren’t ripe enough for the boiling water method to work. That certainly would explain why, after peeling and slicing them, I had a bowl of rock-hard yellow crescents on my hands. In desperation I added a little sugar and vinegar (not called for in the recipe) and, as I so often do, tucked the lot into the fridge hoping the chilled air would work a miracle.

Bread and Butter

The usual supermarket loaf and little ceramic pot of butter…nothing to see here folks, please move along….

Coconut Cake

Apparently this dessert is one of Bob’s favorites (“I’ve just caught a glimpse of something that looks like coconut cake, and I’ll be happy now , no matter how the rest of the dinner tastes!”), and so it seems odd that there’s no recipe listed for it in any of my Bettina books. Frankly I was disappointed—a fluffy layer cake with lemon filling and coconut icing sounded really good.

But I did find a recipe though for coconut cakes (emphasis on the plural) listed in A Thousand Ways To Please A Family and in the end decided to try it. These cakes seem more suitable for a tea rather than a weekend dinner, but oh well…at least the recipe is authentic Bettina.

I’m beginning to wonder just what sort of party these cakes were designed for…a gathering of the neighborhood hounds? The stuff in the bowl seems more like batter meant for dog biscuits than dainty little cakes.

Even blending whipped egg whites into the batter didn’t lighten it much

In the end these seemed adequate, as least as far as appearance goes. Putting coconut on the top of these muffin-like cakes made them look more appetizing and festive, and they smelled wonderful.

Iced Tea

I’ve never been much of a fan of iced tea, but any kind of tea or coffee is a definite plus when there’s a Bettina meal to be prepared. The caffeine wallop not only powers me through the meal but is a godsend when it’s time to put the kitchen back together.

How It Looked