THE JEWISH CHRONICLE
ucin Old Fashioned Dinner
by
Ethel Taurog
The old kitchen clock struck
the hour of seven. Beatrice
Ilirshman rushed into the kitch-
en, her black lawn dress over the
black sateen princess slip only
oartly buttoned.
"Hurry up, Ma and button me
up. I've been late twice this
week, and I don't want to come
late again. You don't mean to
say that you have pancakes again
for breakfast?" Beatrice sniffed
the air.
"What's the matter, Bee? Do
you want Ma to get up a regular
hotel breakfast, beginning with
half a grapefruit with a cherry in
the ,middle?" asked Robert, wip-
ing his wet face and hands on a
red bordered towel.
"How many times did I tell
you it isn't polite to come in a
kitchen to wipe yourself or Comb
your hair. Ma, I should think
you'd teach him a little manners.
f It's gowing up like a tramp."
"Don't quarrel children," Mrs.
lirshman interrupted, as she
sensed a tempestuous reply from
Robert, who seemed to he seek-
ing about for a suitable remark.
"Have you decided upon whom
you're going to invite for supperr
Bee?"
Beatrice buttered her bread
slowly. "I'm going to invite Miss
IIauser, our cashier, Mr. Levine,
he's that salesman who gave me
the tickets for that show, and Mr.
Ripensky, the new bookkeeper.
You've got to make a real fancy
dinner, Ma, because Mr. Ripen-
sky comes into the most aristo-
cratic houses. The boss has had
him over to his house for dinner."
"I'll make a nice dinner," Mrs.
IIirshman replied smiling. "Back
in the old country we used to have
company for meals often, your fa-
ther's relatives, they were very
rich people, and they always
praised my cooking One day
wasn't feeling well, and I didn't
have much for dinner to cat, and
in comes your father with two
men, business friends, and he
couldn't let me know because we
didn't have telephones that time,
and
Beatrice interrupted her moth-
er's reminiscences impatiently.
"You make such old fashioned
Jewish things, Ma, every thing
solid in European style. It's good
enough for us. but it won't 'do for
company. I. brought you a cook
book. It's in my hag. I'll go
get it."
She went into the bed-room,
and returned with a small paper
'covered book in one haud, and her
hat in the other. She tossed the
book on the table. "It cost fif-
teen cents. I looked it over on
the street car coming home last
Might, and I know just what we'll
have. Cream of asnaragus soup,
stuffed egg relish,, Spanish stew,
Spanish salad, olives, devil cake,
queen dessert, and T guess that's
all."
"Do you expect to hire a cater-
er?" asked Robert sarcastically.
"It's none of your business,"
replied his sister tartly.
Mrs. Hirshman looked at the
book in dismay. "I've never
heard of all those things before.
I wouldn't know where to begin
and where to end off."
"It's perfectly easy," Said Bea-
trice, sharply. "You just follow
directions. See, it says 'tested
receipts' That means everything
in here was cooked by the writer
of the book." She put on her hat,
pulled it down'over her rittt eye
to. the fashion-approval angle,
invite them today, better or-
der the things from the grocer,"
she admonished.
"She's got her nerve," said
Robert, as the door closed.
"You'd better go and do your
old fashioned goodies," said Bea-
trice quickly. "If it wasn't for
that Mr. Ripciisky 1 wouldn't
care, but he is used to such fine
things, and he's such a nice young
man. Everybody at the office
raves about him. But, if you
think it is going to be too much
trouble," she added complaining-
ly , ' yn—don't.."
you think stuffed goose the
way Ma makes it isn't good
enough for your. fine friends,"
Robert interrupted.
"I want you to keep your
mouth shut," said his sister slow-
y, "and especially when they're
here, I don't want you to say a
word."
"Thank you, your friends don't
interest me very much."
Mrs. Hirshman saw that the
A/
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JEWISH CHRONICLE
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studying- quick. You won't have
much time, if you don't want to
be late for school"
After "the children" had gone.
Mrs. I lishman sat down to her
breakfast of lukewarm coffee and
cold pancakes, while glancing
over the index of the cook book.
Then with a sigh she placed the
book on a shelf, and began to
clear off. the table. The house
was soon put in order. Then she
sat down and read the recipes
which Beatrice had marked, not-
ing down the supplies needed at
the grocery store.
When Beatrice came home in
the evening, she cheerfully an-
nounced that one and all had ac-
cepted the invitation and they
would come with her from the
office tomorrow evening.
"Everything- is in the ice box,"
said Mrs. Hirshman plaintively,
"Don't you think if I made a stuff-
ed goose it would be as good as
that Spanish stew with all them
red peppers?"
"There you go again with your
conversation was reaching a cru-
cial point. "Bee," she said sooth-
ingly, "I'll try my best and make
the things you want, so you won't
feel ashamed. Do you think can-
ned asparagus would be as good
as the fresh?"
All that night Mrs. Hirshman
tossed about in bed. Visions of
burned food, lumpy cake and a
spoiled dinner kept her awake.
She waited impatiently until Bea-
trice and Robert left the next
morning, and without stopping t
eat her breakfast, she began the
preparations for the evening din-
ner.
With the Spanish salad, she en-
countered difficulties. The oil and
vinegar would not mix. The let-
tuce refused to garnish the whole
with a • crisp greenness, but hung
limply down from the plate.
With a start she rushed to the
range. A pasty lumpy-looking
mass greeted her. The recipe
read "boil briskly for a minute af-
ter stirring in the flour and but-
ter." She had been so busy with
3
the salad that she had allowed the
cream of asparagus soup to sim-
mer for fully fifteen minutes. She
horridly put the pot on the sink
and over fell the bowl containing
the tapioca pudding.
When Robert came home for
lunch, he found the kitchen in a
mess, and his mother sitting in a
chair, rocking to and fro, wiping
her eyes with a corner of her
apron.
"You'll have to get your own
lunch, Robbie I didn't have time
to make anythim.z. for you, and,
and---"
"This place looks like 'An. earth-
quake struck it. You haven't got
any spunk at all, Ma.' If your
good Jewish way of cooking isn't
good enough for her, she doesn't
have to invite her friends. Does
she want to make a Goy of you.
The next thing she'll ask you to
use lard and fry the meat in hot-
ter."
"That must be it," said the
mother weakly. "I put Tendered
goose fat wherever the recipe call-
ed for lard, and maybe that's why
it wouldn't turn out good."
"Sure," said Robert sagely.
"You can't make cook books reci-
pes into Jewish Kugel. If I were
you, I'd make some gene fisch
and a potato pudding and stuffed
goose. It's a good enough meal
for the President."
His mother smiled through her
teas. "I'll boil an egg and you can
drink .a glass of milk for. dinner."
After Robert had left for school
Mrs. Hirshman sat staring
through the window. In the old
country, children were very ohed-
ient and respectful towards their
Parents. Everything pertaining to
Itolaism was strictly observed.
Here she was always laughed at,
She had had difficulty in inducing
the good. dtt ti fnl Robert to go to
Cheder, because the other boys
made fun of him. Perhaps things
would he different if she had
more of what Robert called
"spunk." Mrs. Hirshman's lips
formed a straight line of determ-
ination. She took off the garbage
can cover, and one after another,
"stuffed egg relish, Spanish salad,
cream of asnaragus" found a tem-
porary resting place. Then she
paid the grocer another visit.
Beatrice and her friends were
welcomed most cordially by a
very calm woman. "The table is
all set," she whispered to Bea-
trice. "You take them into the
dining room, and I'll bring in the
supper."
A mingled look of astonish-
ment. consternation and anger
flashed from Beatrice to her
mother as a large platter with
Lrefillte fisch was placed on the
table. This was followed by cab-
aee soup, stuffed goose. potato
%Theft ignoring the significant
dances of his sister, entertained
Mr. Rinensky with accounts of
the neighborhood ball teams.
Mrs. Hirshman placed the des-
sert in the form of preserved gin-
oer and queer little nut cookies on
the table. Then she sat down at
the table with-:her guests.
"Your gefillte fisch tastes just
like mother's," said Mr. Ripen-
sky, the elegant. the fastidious.
"She is a dear, good old fashioned
woman, who hasn't been spoiled