Chapter 33 After the Tea continued

How It Tasted

Omelet

Milomir: Eggs for dinner?

Both DH and Son seem puzzled to find an omelet on the dinner table (such reactionaries!).

Still, they both ate a fair amount of it and seemed moderately pleased. I on the other wasn’t thrilled by the omelet’s texture—it was a little too fluffy for my taste.

I like most egg dishes and (unlike the family), don’t mind eating them for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. But eggs whipped into an omelet seem a little odd to me: a little too soft, too creamy—I like my Pullus ovum with some fight left in them.

Creamed Potatoes

Unlike the omelet these eggs met with complete approval. We’ve been eating Bettina-style boiled potatoes (with and without sauce) quite a lot lately, but in this case a sprinkle of pimento and parsley made all the difference in the world.

Who would have guessed that a vegetable garnish would make these rather boring tubers pleasing to both the eye and the palate? In fact the potatoes went over so well that I expect I’ll make them again soon—the serving dish was emptied in jig time.

Glazed Apples

Filip: Is this maple syrup?

We all enjoyed these apples—recommending the use of brown sugar rather than white was a masterstroke on Bettina’s part.

As for how the apples looked, however—ouch. As mentioned before they started breaking apart in the oven, and by the time the fruit reached the table complete disintegration had set in.

So tasty, yes. But “beautiful”? Absolutely not—and not something I’d care to serve when guests were on hand.

Head Lettuce with Russian Dressing

I don’t think any Bettina salad I’ve ever served has been met with handclapping, and tonight’s was no exception.

The lettuce was fine (if you like crisp but tasteless Iceberg, that is). But the dressing was just too strong—in fact, overwhelming. I’m not sure what sort of salad dressing would compliment rather than overpower the skimpy amount of greens that makes up a Bettina salad, but it certainly isn’t Russian.

Emergency Biscuit

Filip: Try one, Dad. They’re better than they look.

These so-called “emergency biscuits” are aptly named—judging by their appearance they’ve either been pulled from an MRE pack or chipped out of a quarry by desperate people.

But to my (and I think everyone’s) utter amazement they tasted fine. In fact, once we got past the biscuits’ nubbly exterior, they were good. The interiors were light and fluffy and had a solid wheat flavor—completely at odds with the biscuits’ weird appearance.

Watermelon

After chewing our way through this merely serviceable meal the melon was a real treat. It certainly added a much-needed touch of color to the drab table (once again all the dishes were various shades of white, tan, and yellow) and was far easier to prepare than a quicky pie or cake.

Would I Make This Again?

Milomir: This would have made a perfect breakfast.

That pretty well sums it up. The meal was certainly adequate, but DH and Son found it completely incomprehensible to be eating breakfast at night.

But I have to admit that this “emergency dinner” didn’t take much time to prepare: about fifty minutes, just five more than I’d estimated. Seems like a lot by modern standards (21^st century Bob would have been scrambling his own eggs or, more likely, dispatched to the nearest take-out place for a sack of hamburgers)—but still far better than the 3-4 for hours I generally spend cooking a single Bettina meal.

I can’t help wondering though if the meal couldn’t be pared down still more. Skipping the hand-chopped vegetable garnishes would have saved some time--finding a style of eggs that didn’t require so much beating still more.

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Certainly my own crew was hungry and impatient enough while I threw this meal together—no doubt Bob and Mr. Dixon were ten times more so and probably pawed holes in the carpet waiting for dinner to be served!

Chapter 33 After the Tea

Introduction

It’s been a strenuous day for the ladies—after attending a “stiff and tiresome” tea Bettina and Mrs. Dixon can barely drag themselves home.

“Doesn’t it bore you to think of cooking when you’ve been out all afternoon?” groans Mrs. Dixon.

It would appear that Bob’s prospects for a decent are poor to non-existent. But never fear—Bettina has matters well in hand!

“I usually anticipate feeling this way,” our heroine says placidly to her friend. And, after changing into a house dress (“I can’t bear to cook in party clothes”) she proves her worth by whipping up a delicious “emergency dinner” and inviting the Dixons to join in!

Part 1

Menu

Omelet

Creamed Potatoes

Glazed Apples

Head Lettuce with Russian Dressing

Emergency Biscuit

Butter

Watermelon

Well, well—another Bettina meal dictated by the hands of a stopwatch. The vignette doesn’t exactly say how long it takes Bettina to whip together this dinner, but I estimate forty-five minutes or so should be ample time—that is, if the salad dressing and glazed apples are prepared ahead of time and the potatoes boiled and ready for creaming.

Well, we’ll see.

Preparing the Meal

Omelet

An omelet in which the whites are to be separated from the yolks and beaten until “stiff and dry”--quite a challenge without the help of modern electrical appliances and nothing something I’d expected to see at an “emergency” dinner.

Only four eggs are needed for this omelet that supposedly is meant to serve four people…

 “Beat the yolks until thick and lemon-colored”--by hand of course (after two minutes or so my arm gave out and I declared them done).

I’m not even going to try to beat this whites without a mixer (sorry Bettina).

“Stiff and dry” thanks to Mr. Mixer.

Whites folded into the yolks.

My small skillet wasn’t designed specifically for omelets, but it’s the right size and will do, I guess.

“…well done and delicately browned underneath.”

Now into the oven to finish cooking on top…

Not such a terrific idea. The omelet looks fine, but the pan is a crusted-over mess!

Creamed Potatoes

Obviously Bettina had cold boiled potatoes on hand and and so I cooked these well ahead of time.

A tad overcooked, it appears.

Now into the fridge until I’m ready for them (I’ll chop them up later).

Later

After making a white sauce I diced the potatoes directly into the saucepan.

A pimento garnish…I’ll add the parsley just before serving.

Glazed Apples

What beautiful glazed apples!—Mrs. Dixon

Well, I can’t honestly say that any of the apples I’ve ever cooked could be so-described, but I’m always willing to try again.

There’s no mention of just what type of apples are to be used for this recipe so I chose Granny Smiths.

They’re pleasantly tart and don’t discolor.

Unfortunately these apples did begin to turn brown (especially in the centers) and I had to put them in water.

The ingredients for the syrup were surprisingly simple—just brown sugar and water, boiled for six minutes.

The apples plopped into the boiling syrup—these six just barely fit in the pan.

“Cook until tender”.

Yes, these are tender. In fact, they’re beginning to disintegrate.

After removing the apples the syrup that was to cover them seemed a little thin and had to be boiled longer.

Hmm…maybe too much boiling? This stuff is now like taffy.

Not “beautiful” this time, either (darn).

Head Lettuce with Russian Dressing

The head lettuce is easy--the dressing, not so much. Of course this version of Russian dressing requires not only the dreaded Bettina chili sauce but homemade salad dressing as well—definitely not the stuff for an emergency dinner (unless of course it’s been made ahead of time).

I cut the recipe for the chili sauce down by ¾, and three tomatoes were perfectly adequate.

Water bath to help loosen the skins.

Finished skinning them with a paring knife, which made my hands very itchy.

Some chopped green pepper.

Onion…

…and a sturdy pair of goggles to keep the onion fumes away from my eyes.

All the ingredients into the pot, to be cooked until thick.

Now for the boiled salad dressing…

First separate the eggs (this dressing requires only the yolks).

Add vinegar.

Mix flour, sugar, and spices.

Then mix the wet ingredients with the dry and cook slowly.

I guess I didn’t cook this slowly enough—quite a lot of lumps here.

Thank goodness for strainers.

Once the chili sauce and the boiled dressing were prepared, actually mixing up the Russian dressing was simple.

½ cup salad dressing mixed with three tablespoons of chili sauce, and then a little sour cream to thin it out.

Finished. Thank goodness!

Emergency Biscuit

Three cheers for emergency breadstuffs—the dry ingredients need not be sifted!

Flour, baking powder, and salt.

Cut in three tablespoons of fat (here a combination of butter and lard).

Since this is what Bettina classifies as an emergency I simply dumped the milk onto the dry ingredients and stirred with a wooden spoon.

Then just drop spoonsfull of batter onto a greased cookie sheet and bake.

Watermelon

A thoroughly cold melon whacked into wedges and slapped on a plate—simplicity itself.

Except for the fact that my refrigerator was so crammed with stuff there was no room for the melon. After much rearranging I was able to get in inside, but that left only about thirty minutes for it to chill.

How It Looked

Chapter 32 Bettina Attends A Morning Wedding continued

How It Tasted

Watermelon Cubes (Served In Sherbet Glasses)

As it turned out this melon was a tad overripe after all.

Still, it was tasty and, along with the peas, added a much-needed touch of color to the menu. (Tan, yellow, and white—this is the third meal in a row featuring Bettina’s favorite colors, and it's like being trapped in a sand dune).

Fried Spring Chicken

I thought the chicken was top notch, but my husband didn’t agree. What seemed to me tender and succulent he interpreted as undercooked, and my son would have like a heavier, crunchier coating.

But on one point we all agreed: younger, smaller birds are far better than fowl in their tweens or teens (so to speak). Yes, you do get less meat on a younger bird but, as it costs the same pound for pound, who cares? This is one area in which Bettina has definitely changed my marketing habits: from now on I’m going to select smaller birds and simply buy two if necessary.

(Gravy)

Although this wasn’t listed on the menu the chapter did provide a recipe. And I had every intention of making it—really it shouldn’t have been too much trouble as the gravy was be stirred up in the same pan that held the chicken.

Unfortunately…

I’m not exactly sure what could have been concocted in a pan as messy as this, but it certainly wouldn't be gravy!

New Potatoes

Boiled potatoes sprinkled with parsley *ho hum*. I wish I could think of something original or witty to say about a dish I’ve made so very many times, but the words simply aren’t there (except—Bettina really needs to learn some new potato dishes before Bob goes on a hunger strike).

Creamed Peas

Filip: None for me, thanks.

When my son refuses a serving of peas I know something’s wrong.

And so there was: the peas looked absolutely terrible. For some reason the cream sauce covering them turned a sort of translucent gray—rather like dirty dishwater swirling down the drain. DS wouldn’t touch them, my husband was visibly unenthusiastic, and they looked so unappetizing I didn’t want to eat them either.

Hot Rolls

My no stretch of the imagination could these hefty break-apart be considered dainty, but they certainly were good. Yes, they are more work to prepare than slicing up a loaf of commercial French bread, but they’re also 1000% better and well worth the extra trouble.

Currant Jelly

After a spoonful of this jelly I felt both disappointed and triumphant—the former because I spent almost ten dollars on this jar of super sweet goo; the latter because the stuff I make myself is so much better.

Even my husband, a real jam and jelly aficionado, wasn’t impressed by this. He spread a little on his roll and then concentrated on the half-inch or so of homemade jelly sitting at the bottom of its jar.

Brides’ Cake

Bleah! This cake was simply dreadful; damp and rubbery but somehow very solid, like a wad of modeling clay left to dry out.

A Thousand Ways To Please A Husband suggests the cake be cut up, put in little boxes, and distributed to the guests—presumably for them to sleep on in adherence to that age-old tradition.

Bad idea. Even under a stack of pillows the cake’s solid presence would be much too evident, and like the fairy tale princess and the pea the unfortunate guest sleeping on top of it would toss and turn all night.

Peach Ice Cream

Milomir: Did you use canned peaches for this?

My husband instantly knew the ice cream contained something other than fresh peaches (they were frozen, in fact), and this knowledge seemed to spoil somewhat his enjoyment of the dessert.

My son thought it tasted OK but not much different than the stuff I purchase at the supermarket, and I (regretfully) had to agree.

Not that it was bad, really—just not worth the labor it took to make (and the pains in my hand and wrist the following day).

Nuts

Planter’s Fancy Mixed Nuts came away with full honors—hours after the meal ended my husband and son were still nibbling on them.

Candy

Filip: What kind of cookies are these?

The chocolate turtles were in fact chocolate turtles but, thanks to the fact that they had no pecan flippers and minimal nuts inside, my son didn’t even recognize them as such. “Mass-produced” is probably the best way to describe them—adequate, but not something really appropriate on a special occasion like a wedding.

Coffee

Thank the Lord for hot coffee—as so often happens after a Bettina meal I needed some serious caffeine to keep me awake.

And thank goodness as well for percolators. Some people consider them inferior, but I couldn’t disagree more. To me and my husband it’s far better and smoother than any other type and worlds apart from the Turkish-style brew we drank for so many years.

Would I Make This Again?

Certain items, obviously—I enjoyed the chicken, the rolls were a hit with all of us, and certainly the nuts and the candy were well-received.

But the blah potatoes and grayish peas didn’t go over well, and even wedding guests buzzed on champagne wouldn’t be able to choke down that cake. Plunking this sort of thing down at a reception nowadays would illicit instant reaction from the guests—either full-scale rebellion or (more likely) a run at adjoining fast food places as folks sneaked out for a bite to eat.