Chapter 27 Bettina Has A Baking Da

Introduction
Sister-in-law Polly and her three children are coming for the weekend, and even the normally placid Bettina seems a little overwhelmed.

As well she might! From the meals described one guesses that Polly and the kids have gargantuan appetites and/or fall in the 99^th percentile for weight. For a three-day visit Bettina prepares (among other things) beets and potatoes for salad, a veal loaf, white cake, salad dressing, berry pie, sour cream cookies, nut bread, tomato gelatin, lamb chops, and sliced peaches.

Heavens! Even with Ruth’s help it seems rather doubtful that this mountain of victuals can be prepared in the space of a day—perhaps Bettina she should claim “female trouble” and hide in the bedroom for the duration of the visit?

Thanks goodness the only recipes given in the chapter are for pie, cookies, the tomato gelatin, salad dressing, and doughnuts—otherwise I might claim PMS (the modern equivalent of  aforementioned “female trouble”) and lock myself in the bathroom.

Still, there is quite a lot of cooking involved and I tossed my original idea of cooking up and serving the food in one carb-heavy and highly unbalanced meal.

Rather, I concocted the dishes one by one over the space of a week or so and served them as additions to our regular fare—saving both time and sanity (my own and that of my family!)

Part 1

Preparing the Food

Berry Pie

The recipe gives a choice of either black- or blueberries so I (in my typical happy-go-lucky way) decided to use whichever was cheap and available at the supermarket.

The winner!

Oddly enough I had trouble finding a recipe for a two-crust pie in A Thousand Ways To Please A Husband—in fact, none seemed to exist. So I flipped back to Chapter 7 (Bettina’s Father Tries Her Cooking) and simply doubled the ingredients for the crust used for the lemon pie.

I’ve made both apple and lemon meringue pies before, but always always hedged my bets by using pre-made crust. So reading the instructions for Bettina’s homemade version doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence—rather, I can feel cold chills running up and down my spine!

This isn’t going to be easy…

For this crust both butter and lard are required (eliciting a private yuck from me).

My smaller-than-standard pie plate (how on earth is this tiny pie supposed to feed three adults and three children?)

I measured out and chilled the butter, lard, and flour beforehand.

After much mooshing and chopping with my pastry cutter I managed to reduce the mélange to “grains the size of cornmeal”.

And now the real challenge begins: adding enough water (but not too much) to turn this mess of crumbs into piecrust.

As Bettina directs I added three tablespoons of cold water slowly and then tried to gather the wet crumbs into a ball with a table knife.

No luck, so I had no choice but to add two more tablespoons of water.

Success (I think).

The ball of dough cut in two—each half should be enough to make a single crust.

Even though my counter was freshly scrubbed and heavily floured the dough stuck stuck stuck when rolled it out…

…and completely fell apart when I tried to maneuver it into the pan.

After some heavy-duty patching I managed to assemble something that at least resembles a pie crust.

After adding the berries, lemon juice, flour, and salt, I realized that the pie was going to be even smaller than expected.

I had slightly better luck rolling out the top crust…

…but only slightly. Ugh, this looks terrible!

After much tweaking and smoothing I managed to get the crust together. No need to cut slits in the top—they’re already there!

Too keep the edges from browning too quickly I folded aluminum foil around the perimeter of the pan. And I brushed the top crust with milk to help it brown more quickly.

Well, I wouldn’t say this likes like something out of Bon Appetit, but if you squint a bit it does sort of look like pie!

Tomato Jelly

Tomato jelly—well, this certainly is unusual. Maybe I can pass it off to my family as strawberry or cherry Jello?

Fresh from the garden—probably the last haul of the season.

The recipe didn’t say to, but I went ahead and quartered the tomatoes.

No bay leaves on hand, so I substituted basil.

While the tomatoes were stewing I went ahead and prepared the unflavored gelatin. Two tablespoons of powder seemed like a lot for two tablespoons of water to moisten. In fact the powder at the top of the cup remained dry, so I added a little more H2O.

To my surprise the tomatoes were ready in the specified ten minutes, but only after I employed my potato masher.

Straining the cooked tomatoes.

Looks like tomato juice—V8, anyone?

As instructed I added the hot tomato juice to the gelatin. Alas the latter refused to melt completely, so I had to put the mixture back on the stove and heat it up again. Then I poured the mixture into three cups, covered them with plastic wrap, and deposited them in the fridge.

Boiled Salad Dressing

Yet another cooked Bettina dressing to add to the list. I’m optimistic about this one though as it contains only 1/3 cup of vinegar.

Four egg yolks—how on earth am I going to use up the whites?

The dry ingredients have to be sifted—unfair!

Unfortunately I add the wet ingredients too quickly to the dry and ended up with a pan full of lumps.

Even beating with a whisk couldn’t smooth this sludge out, so I had to strain it.

Cook until “smooth and creamy” and then add butter.

Uh-oh. More lumps. Time to strain again.

My oh my this stuff is thick—even with butter added. I’m definitely going to have to dilute this before serving.

Sour Cream Cookies

Another lard-based dough—how many pigs were sacrificed on behalf of Polly and her children?

First step: cream the butter and lard with the sugar.

Add well-beaten eggs, sour cream, soda, salt, nutmeg, and part of the flour—but no sugar. Odd for a cookie recipe…

Add the remaining flour.

This is a VERY soft dough. Well, nothing that a spell in the refrigerator can’t fix.

Later

After retrieving the dough from the fridge I was able to roll it out. This is ½ of the dough—supposedly enough to make eighteen cookies.

Nope—not even close.

Once again the dough stuck to the counter with a vengeance and then tore to pieces when I tried to move it off. I had no choice but to gather it into a ball and roll it out again.

Irregularly shaped but OK, I suppose (at least they made it onto the cookie sheet this time).

Raisins are optional, so I left them off the first batch…

…but did add some to the second.

I can’t say yet how these taste, but they certainly look scrumptious!

Doughnuts

Homemade doughnuts—the biggest challenge to date and one involving kettles of boiling fat [insert Bronx cheer here]

It’s going to be especially difficult as some time ago I misplaced the cord to my electric fryer. That means I’ll have to deep fry these cakes on the stove and use a thermometer to monitor the temperature of the fat. Great.

I am drawing the line at using lard, however. I know it’s authentic, but I can’t stand the smell of heated animal fat—a whole pot full would probably send me to my knees! For once modern practices take precedence—I’m going to use solid vegetable shortening in the pot.

And since Bettina’s instructions about successfully pulling off this culinary high wire act are vague, I’m using The Little House Cookbook (written by Barbara M. Walker) as a reference guide.

 It’s a fascinating book and gives a lot of helpful advice about working with boiling fat.

Might come in handy if invaders try to breach the city walls <grin>

Sift the flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon.

Mix eggs, milk, and sugar and add the dry ingredients.

Yes, another elastic dough.

Time to roll out!

My exclusive $4.99 doughnut cutter.

So much for my cheapo cutter. It cut around the edges of the doughnuts just fine, but I had to loosen the centers with a paring knife.

Doughnuts—oddly shaped, but doughnuts nonetheless.

And into the bubbling fat.

Had some trouble keeping the temperature around 375 degrees Fahrenheit…

…but the doughnuts are frying just fine.

Just for fun I decided to shape one of Mother Wilder’s “no time to waste turning doughnuts” types. Basically it’s a strip of dough wound in a corkscrew and then pinched together at the edges. And supposedly it’s self-turning.

It’s definitely not rolling over by itself. OK, time to give it a little aid and assistance.

Looks as appetizing as a chunk of kindling wood.

But these came out fine. In fact, they look great!