Cooking a la Bettina: A Thousand Ways To Please A Husband Revisited

Chapter 22 (The Modern Refrigerator)

You are about to enter another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone. [cue music]

An overwhelmed Mrs. Dixon has inveigled our heroine into meeting her downtown.

“I don’t know a thing about refrigerators; that’s why I begged you to come,” she admits.

And of course Bettina is only too happy to take charge—in fact has very specific qualifications for the ice box soon to grace the Dixon kitchen:

1. It must hold a minimum of 100 pounds of ice

2. The water trap should be located in the bottom of the ice compartment

3. The Dixons (or rather Mr. Dixon, chancellor of the exchequer) had better resign himself to shelling out a bundle for the new box because “it will be most economical in the long run.”

After laying out these conditions and giving plentiful advice about how to ensure proper air flow in the new refrigerator Bettina takes her leave and heads for home:

A crafty Mrs. Dixon lures Bettina to her house—ostensibly to indulge in an afternoon of sewing and gossip. But of course the truth will out:

“…what I really invited you over for was to get some advice about buying a refrigerator,” confesses Mrs. Dixon.

And Bettina, true to form, has plenty of advice to give. Her requirements for the new refrigerator are strict:

1. It must be gas or electric

2. It should be a large enough box to accommodate a soon-to-be growing family

3. Mr. Dixon is to make the actual purchase for “he would adore to select the best on the market!”

After laying out these conditions and giving plentiful advice about the cleaning and defrosting of the new refrigerator Bettina takes her leave and heads for home:

“I’ll have to go or Bob will get there first and I’m a little

sentimental about being there to greet him at the door.”

Whew! Two Bettinas—two Mrs. Dixons—and two very different scenarios. What cataclysmic event caused this break in the time-space continuum? Alien invasion? A black hole? Last night’s hash-and-cauliflower dinner?

But one thing is certain: the Goddess Bettina has the power to heal such a rupture—dispensing a boatload of advice and/or submitting to her daily ritual of greeting Bob at the door is enough to repair the timeline and get the universe back on track!

The Menu

Broiled Lamb Chops

Boiled New Potatoes

New Peas in Cream

Vegetable Salad

Bread

Butter

Rhubarb Pudding (1918 edition)

Preparing the Food

Broiled Lamb Chops

I definitely feel a bit leery about serving these chops. The last time lamb appeared on the menu (Chapter 7: A New-Fashioned Sunday Dinner) it was in the form of a roast and so disconcertingly sweet I could almost see Hannibal Lector lurking in the kitchen.

At the supermarket the only chops I could find were excised from the shoulder of the lamb. Probably not the best cut (they were very inexpensive—suspiciously so) but the only kind available on short notice.

The chops as per the recipe are to be broiled in a “red-hot” pan. Unfortunately red-hot utensils of any kind just trigger more unpleasant memories—namely, the Bettina steak (Chapter 2: Bettina’s First Real Dinner) cooked under a red-hot broiler that set off multiple smoke alarms.

Fortunately I now have a ceramic non-stick skillet at my disposal. Not a traditional utensil by any means but easier to manage (I hope) than a cast-iron frying pan.

The cooking process for the chops is straightforward enough: sear, turn, lower the heat, and keep turning until the chops are ready.

New Boiled Potatoes

No potato shortage at Safeway--something I almost would have welcomed after countless Bettina meals featuring these boring tubers. Even with knowing the ease of the potatoes’ preparation—skin, boil, plop in a serving dish, garnish with parsley—I can’t seem to muster any enthusiasm here.

Creamed New Peas

New peas were not to be found at the market (big surprise) so I had no choice but to substitute frozen:

Well, it does say “early harvest” on the package!

These frozen peas were a breeze to fix: just dump in a pot with a little water and simmer six minutes. But of course plain cooked vegetables are an anathema to Bettina and I was forced to cook up yet another white sauce.

Melt the butter *sigh*

Add flour

And of course the standard cup of milk…

Peas, meet cream sauce!

Vegetable Salad

This dish appears in both Bettina universes so it must be essential.

No arguments from me. A dish of raw vegetables sounds like pure heaven after all the cooked peas, beans, and carrots we’ve been eating lately.

Happily A Thousand Ways To Please A Husband lists a plethora of “vegetable salads”—some simply bowls of greens, others mixed with potatoes or peas and bound together with sauce. It didn’t take me long to decide on the simple ménage of tomato and cucumber combined with a plain vinaigrette.

Naturally the first step is to peel the tomatoes…make ready the hot water bath!

Skinned, and ready to be chopped to bits (although I personally prefer thin slices of cucumber and tomato over chunks)

Such a simple dressing: oil, vinegar, salt, and paprika. I love it!

Bread and Butter

Do I really need to talk much about this? Bread is bread--although for a change of pace I chose to serve pre-sliced French bread of decidedly commercial origins.

Rhubarb Pudding

Thanks to the split in the time-space continuum I had a choice of two desserts: rhubarb pudding or sour cream cake. The pudding was obviously a seasonal dish and seemed more interesting, so pudding it was to be.

Unfortunately the rhubarb situation at the supermarket was so dismal I realized pretty quickly I’d made the wrong choice:

Believe it or not this was the only rhubarb available. Absolutely pitiful.

The scraping, scraps, and whole stalks (amazing) fit only for the trashcan. Thanks goodness the recipe only calls for a single cup of the cooked stuff.

Mixed cleaned, sliced rhubarb with sugar and let sit for 15 minutes

And onto the stove. The rhubarb was tinged with red to begin with, but that didn’t last long…

Ugh. This doesn’t resemble any stewed rhubarb I’ve ever seen—it looks more like cooked apricots or sweet potatoes (or something I dare not name!). Not exactly what I was expecting.