Come Into My Kitchen |
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For some years Clarence Day's "Life with Father" has delighted readers and theater, movie and tv audiences. The autocrat of the Day family breakfast table was no more an individualist than my own father who dominated all aspects of family life, from report cards to the kitchen. In our family, as in the Day household, my mother cooked to please Papa--and only Papa. We children learned to like what he liked because that's all there was. I don't remember ever refusing anything offered or leaving anything on my plate. Except once, and then Papa, forgetting he wasn't in his furniture store, ordered me to eat it because it was "a high-grade piece of merchandise." Papa disliked eating out. On those few occasions when we had the temerity to suggest it, the idea was quickly squelched. Because, Papa pointed out, as long as you had perfectly good food at home, what was the sense of leaving home to eat something that couldn't possibly be better than the food you were turning your back on? Papa was completely intolerant of many food innovations. Salad was summarily rejected with a terse "Take away the grass." Tea was to be drunk hot, whatever the season. He maintained that hot tea warmed you in the winter and cooled you in the summer. As a sweetener for his glass of hot tea, he used a teaspoonful of raspberry jam in addition to his one lump of sugar. Papa never dieted. He never ate between meals. He never took a second helping of anything, even of his favorite dishes. He was never overweight. Moderation in all things was his credo. When he had eaten his meal, he pushed his plate away and that was that. Papa shunned rich desserts, regarding them as a self-indulgence. Coffee cake and plain cakes he tolerated, but his standard dessert was a compote of dried fruit. (No wonder I can't abide the dish to this day.) It used to be that once little girls became aware of the function of a kitchen and of a woman's role in it, they were reminded repeatedly by their mothers: "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Today's young girls are less likely to be directed toward the kitchen than to the nearest swimming pool or tennis court. Now, while I have great sympathy forr the homemaker whose husband's culinary wishes keep her tied to the kitchen, I feel even- greater compassion for the woman whose husband doesn't care what he eats and rarely bows in homage to the cook. For no matter how much you may enjoy cooking, unless you have an appreciative audience to play to and unless you hear an occasional, "This is GOOD!", your enthusiasm will surely wither on the vine. Let's be honest: few of us cook to eat, we cook for compliments. We're like Mark Twain who said he could live two months on one good compliment. An old friend used to tell me what fun her mother had cooking for her father. He thoroughly relished everything set before him and was vociferous in his praise. Every dish was the best he'd ever tasted and the household rang with his pleasure and satisfaction. Lucky woman, that wife. Samuel Johnson said, Some people have a foolish way of not minding or pretending not to mind what they eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously and carefully, for I look upon it that he who does not mind his belly will hardly mind anything else." Papa would have agreed.
Crust:
Cut shortening and butter into flour and salt. Add enough cold milk to moisten. Roll out between sheets of wax paper. Line a 10 1/2" quiche pan or pie plate with pastry; brush with milk. Form a high collar or edge to the pastry as it shrinks during baking. Prick with fork and bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes or until pastry appears done when pressed lightly. Filling:
Arrange tomatoes in pastry shell in layers, dotting each layer with above mixture but reserving most for the top. When all tomatoes have been used (mound them somewhat as they tend to subside a little in the cooking), spread remaining cheese mixture over all, bringing it to the edge of the pastry. Now cover with 1/2 cup crushed Ritz or similar crackers; dot with 2 tablespoons butter. Bake at 375 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes. This pie will serve well as a luncheon dish or entree for dinner with
baked ham or sliced beef eye of round served at room temperature.
1 large potato, peeled and thinly sliced
Sprinkle top with curry powder or scant cayenne pepper if desired.
4 chicken breast halves (may be skinned but not de-boned)
Melt butter in shallow baking dish. Sprinkle chicken with salt,
pepper and paprika on both sides and place in one layer in baking dish.
Combine remaining ingredients and spread over chicken. Bake lightly covered
at 350 degrees for l 1/2 hours. Uncover last half hour of baking. (very
good with parsleyed rice.)
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
Combine all ingredients in blender or food processor.
Store refrigerated.
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