HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1959-10-01, Page 6HIS GRIN'S BUILT-IN — "Bobbie," 14-year-old dachshund, is
the dog with the smile that's returned for awhile. His dental-
technician mistress, Mrs, Ellie Godel, fitted the pooch with his
uppers. The crocodile-like grin results from the fact that the
lowers are yet to come, once two old snags have been extract-
ed.
' BLE, TALKS
< Andmvs.
r -
shoe Shining
in Turkey
PellOld in me the proud owner
of whiz*, must be one of the *finest
Sbeeshfsse stands in all of An-
)1aral ,.Since: we have been in
Turkey, the object d'art which I
have meat coveted has been one
Of the bright brass, mirrored,
Painted :stands Which sprout on
important corners of this eels-
ital,
There is something eclectic
about them; they belong to no
particular period, though Gaudy
Gothic best describes them. But
,slevs his own aesthetic
tune, We have followed, faseina
:tae rise from plain practi-
cal box to a few inlaid roses, to
shining brass-topped bottles and
finally to a mirrored, inuraled
chest, with glass cages at either
end and small flagpoles for ad-
vertising purposes.
Mine is semimodest, but it
has some of the true, the blush-
ing Hippocrene. It came about
thus:
We have a young woman
friend, "D,D.", whose know-
ledge of the States makes her
tolerant of our more aberrant
fancies, I told her some time ago
I longed for a shoe-shine stand
for a spice cabinet in a hypo-
thetical kitchen at home, She
was thoughtful and explained
the expertise involved: each
man's box was his shop, his
livelihood, his professional stand-
ing, not to mention his flight
into the wild empyrean of art,
She suggested we look when we
went down to Istanbul,
We spent a vionderful long
day there in the Covered Baz-
aar, and even took a taxi to the
artisans' quarter. Shoeshine
stands there were, but in the
subdued, expensive manner of
all high style. I was for painted
flowers and flamboyance.
It was Ahmet, my friend's fi-
ance, who settled the matter for
us. He drove to the largest park-
ed corner of Ankara, looked the
rank of professionals over, chose
one solid middle-aged man, and
explained our quest.
"Says his name is Kerim," he
explained, "and been here shin-
ing shoes for 20 years, He knows
where to look."
Kerim took us, by winding,
crooked streets, up the back way
to the hills of old Angora. We
left the car at the bottom of
a cobbled lane and began to
climb up, up through steep al-
leys where old men sat nodding
in the sun and women leaned
out of balconies to chatter,
Some small boys threw a few
curious rocks, and the old men
raised their eybrows but not
their heads,
Kerim was a fast walker; we
'puffed along, looking into clos-
ed windows filled with dried
herbs and machine parts, old
shoes and fresh-ground flour,
Japanese cottons and German
phonograph records. We gained
a breathing fiat, but Kerlin
strode on, At last we wound to
the top shelf, held together by
three small cottages, one the
atelier of the shoeshine maestro.
He was not present as we
opened the door; two elderly
women sat in a sunny corner
rocking placidly on their heels.
D.D. spoke to them courteously,
and one raised her head and
called. A thin, fortyish man ap-
peared, with a lean, aesthetic
face and the large, tough hands
of the expert manual worker. He,
and. Kerim greeted each other
as old acquaintances and Kerim
went at once to the point: did
he have any boxes?
The maestro looked thought-
ful; naturally, he worked to or-
der but there was a shelf at
alsotilder on why stood a , .
box SIP, ;lee' severity and Davy
Jones locker, and, behind it, an,
aesthetic monster which gave
even me pause, It must have
been four feet long and two high.
Its walls were painted with
"scenes": a girl in a Watteau-
panniered skirt danced on a
lawn; a youths in tights a whirled
a ribboned hoop. In the twu
mirrored ,.!ages at the ends were
porcelain birds and on top of
each, the final touch of art nut-
teatr: a wrought-iron candle,.
stick of twined rosebuds, writes
Hazel H. Bruce in the Christian
Science Monitor,
"Hasn't he got something sort
of between these two?" I asked
D.D. weakly.,
"'These are this year's styles,
he says, but he does have his
last year's model, at his house,
over there," reported D.D. "Shall
he bring it?" I nodded.
I knew it as mine the minute
he entered with it. It was gay
enough; it gleamed with brassy
knobs and shining stoppers. It
had festoons of great black rasp-
berries on the 'front, a riot of
roses on the sides, and a panel
of yellow gooseberries on the
lid. It lacked the mirrored cages
and flagpoles, but I was satis-
fied: it was in the tradition, loud,
gusty, and giddy.
Kerim and I stepped aside
and let D.D. do the bargaining:
it proceeded with the understood
stateliness of an old dance, Ker-
im stood listening, his head tilt-
ing approvingly as they came
to the last price and acceptance.
The maestro stood wiping the
dust from his late chef-d'oeuvre
with a farewell gesture. He eyed
it tenderly.
"Will she take this to the
States?" he inquired as he ac-
cepted the folded money.
"In time," said D.D.
"That will be pleasant," com-
mented the Michelangelo of the
Shoeshine Stand, "I already,
have one in London!"
Kerim carried it down the hill,
and this time the old men lifted
their heads to stare and the lit-
tle boys were silent. As we got
into the car Kerim remarked:
"The brass needs a profes-
sional polish. Tell Madame I
will come to her home tomor-
row at noon to do it!"
He was there, and brought
with him a young helper. They
sat on the curb at the edge of
the garden and the neighbor-
hood gathered. The garbage man
stopped his steel-sided truck; the
eskigis, old-clothes men were
drawn by an osmotic attraction.
Even the postman got off his
bicycle and peered.
Kerim and his helper sat pol-
ishing urbanely. One of my Tur-
kish neighbors stood by me as
we peered out the curtains.
"What are they saying?" I de-
manded.
She giggled. "They call you a
'crazy American,' of course, and
say you must have a very tol-
erant husband or be married to
a millionaire!"
"Tell 'em it's both," I told het.
"I never felt richer!"
Choosing Husbands
A woman should be allowed
to choose her own husband, She
shouldn't be forced to accept a
husband picked by her family.
That was the platform of a
woman candidate in the elec-
tions held this week in the
United Arab Republic.
We don't know whether this
candidate won or lost. It makes
no difference to the point,
which is: In the UAR, most
women marry men chosen by
their families, and their right to
pick their own husbands was a
campaign issue.
Americans, male and female,
may 'find this humourous, But
it's no laughing matter. It is a
clue to the viewpoint of the
electorate in a land with little
experience in the use of demo-
cratic processes,
We think it underscores the
Tightness of our nation's policy,
which is to encourage other
countries to work out their
problems in accordance with
their own character and tradi-
tions. A veiled Arab woman, un-
schooled and content with her
lot, isn't likely to vote for the
same reasons as an American•
housewife or businesswoman, —
Miami Herald.
An Island Off
The Korn. Of Africa
We began to climb up a steep,
40441er-strewn. slope, The en-
tire . caravan was straggled up
this slope, each camel pausing
while the camel in front of it
Was pulled and pushed by its
driver over some particularly
difficult part of the tract, , —
Once we had topped this abrupt
initial slope (which rose to sev-
eral hundred feet). we followed,
a barely discernible track over
.rocks worn shiny and slippery
by the feet of generations of
men and camels.
This track led between enor-
mous burnt boulders and a Walt
Disney landscape of cucumber
trees . , and candelabra atoll-
orbias and, green fleshy shrubs
like prolific runner beans gone
wild, Sometimes the track ran
beside the clear green sea which
lapped in the whorls and cav-
erns of that eroded shore; some-
times it ran high above the sea.
When it is wet, camels occasion-
ally fall from the heights of the
aqaba into the sea, but at this
time the going was good and
we were constantly amazed at
the performance of the • camels.
which claMbered slowly and.
surely over everything in their
way.. Sometimes the track was
so narrow that the camel's bag-
gage got caught between over-
hanging rocks, so that two
camel men had to ease it
-through, one man pulling on the
camel's neck-rope, another push-
ing at its hind-quarters. . . .
In fact, the Socotran camel is
a remarkable animal altogether,
wonderfully adapted to the ex-
igencies of the rough and preci-
pitous terrain of the island, It
is s tx o n g; but without -the
starniWItlfsl, thitst-endurance of
REGARDS TO BROADWAY —
Grandchildren of the late
George M. Cohan are present as
a statue to the famous enter-,
tainer is unveiled on Duffy
Square, Broadway and 46th
Street, New York City, Standing
beneath statue are, from left,
George Ronkin, Jr., Michaela
Cohan, Mary Ronkin and Mrs.
Penny Williams.
a
the true Arabian camel — it
has to be watered daily in the
drier parts. It is as sure-footed.
as a mountain goat and can
climb from sea-level to a 3,000-
foot pass over the mountains
without too much difficulty.
Only in the wet does the Soco-
tran camel let you down. Then
its broad, squashy feet (like
squeegies) cannot grip the mud
and slippery rocks, • .
At one o'clock we came over
a, rise and saw a gently curving
bay and a wide plain before us.
At the near end of the plain,
at the edge of the sea, we saw
a small village of white houses
in the middle of a green plan-
tation of date palms, We could
see quite distinctly the white
minaret of a mosque rising
Above the palms,
"Can that be Hadibo?" some-
one asked.
"No, that can't be Hadibo. Ifs
too small for Iladibo."
"Ali, is that Hadibo?"
riisgruntlecl, growled in-
audibly.
.1ust be flacilbo, On the
m;p there's no other place bes
tween Qadhub and Hadibo.,11's
very small fora capital."
We passed aqaba and found
ourselves at one end of a amphi-
theatre of hills, a flat plain
backed by a group of fantastic
mountains to the south and the
blue, foam-flecked sea :to the
north, Two miles away, at the
edge of the sea, the White
houses of. Hadibo reflected the
brilliant sun through the en-
closing date plantations. — From
"Island of the Dragon's Blood,"
b'a Douglas totting.
ISsut 1969
In these days we take so
many things for granted! Cook-
books, for example. Although
not quite "a dime a dozen"
cookbooks are so commonplace
that nobody even blinks when
a dozen or so new ones appear
on the publishers' lists.
But it is interesting to think
of how these books had their
beginning. A relative of mine
well remembers how the ladies
of a certain church combined
their favorite recipes,-- made a
book of them and, I hope, ach-
ieved their aim of helping to
pay off the manse mortgage.
It was a good cookbook too,
as any owner of 'The Galt
Cookbook" will attest.
So, without further ado or
apologies, I pass along the fol-
lowing about early-days cook-
ery, and cookbooks.
Pinetown sits a mile above sea
level, and its atmosphere is so
delicately bracing that my grand-
father often remarked he could
live on it. However, he also en-
joyed living on foods cooked
by adjustment to the high alti-
tude.
'One noon, he was eating a sec-
ond large piece of lemon mer-
ingue pie in especially appreci-
ative silence. Talking at a time
like this would have nipped his
attention to the flavor. His dark
eyes flicked back and forth from
Grandmother. to the plate in
front of him and did the talking
/or him. His bride of six months,
who made him think of lilacs,
sat watching him, her own
piece untouched and her sun-
ny brows up with wonder:"
He saw what she was think-
ing. "How. can I eat so much
Of it?" He circled the edge of
the plate with the side of his
fork to make sure he -had it all.
"Well, I like it, that's why."
She remarked thoughfully, "I
made it from remembering how
it was at home. Perhaps if we
had a cookbook, we could have
other kinds."
*
"Cookbook?" Now it was
Grandfather's turn to be as-
tounded. He was well acquaint-
ed with law books and the clas-
sics, but he could never recall
seeing a cookbook around the r.
house when he was a boy in
Missouri. "And what would that
tell you?"
Grandmother's laugh was al-
ways little and light, "Why,
how to cook, of course!" She be-
gan to eat her pie, as Grand'.
father folded his napkin into its
heavy silver ring. "But you
know how to cook." He studied
her face with affection. "Frances,
I dare say you're one of the best
cooks between Independence
and Santa Fe,"
"Not really," she said modest-
ly, "but I like it, It's so cre-
ative." A faraway look stepped
from her eyes. "We had a cook-
book at home. I used to read it
for fun, especially the. Household
Hints. Some of them were de-
lightful."
"Is that so?" Grandfather had_,
no notion of what she ,was talk-
ing about, although he got up
from the table reluctantly to
walk back to the office. "I'd
'be happy to see about one for
you, but you know how it is
here. The only .books• in town
are the ones people have brought
with them." He picked up his
wide-brimmed felt hat from the
sideboard and set it low on his
forehead.'Then he slipped a pep-
permint from the hand-painted
china pig into his cheek. "Now
that I think of it, I believe Mis-
souri women used to swap
recipes." He pronounced recipe
like "receipt,' the Old southern
way. "Maybe you Pinetown.
women might do something of
the sort."
* *
He opened the back door to go
and 'Grandmother heard him
spout a greeting to the grocer
bringing up her order. "Well,
Cash, you're just in time for a
piece of pie, the best I ever ate.
Just go on in and help your-
self," he said generously.
Cash, hearty as a pork roast,
was taking the steps two at a
time, shouldering the grocery
box with one hand. He wore a
pink face and a coverage of
white apron lettered Cash's Cash
Store. "Thanks, Judge," he grin-
ned, "don't mind if I do,"
"You wouldn't have a cook-
book down there at the Cash
Store, would you?" Grandfather
turned around to ask after him.
The grocer paused and
thought, "Got spices, cake pans,
shoes, sflhcing bowls. •Oot glass-
ware, overalls, tweet!, hoards.
Cookbook? What is that
aetly?" He leaned down tbr'
steps, confidentially.
• Grandfather wagged his he,ttl,
"A book N. recipes, apparently.
Frances would like to have one,
I told her maybe she could
swap ideas with some of .the
women here, if she can't get a
book."
"Sure thing," • Cash agreed,
"Everybody in town would be
glad to help her out."
1, • ,*• • ,w
Grandfather trotted off t,t,
case, feeling he could .never do
enough for her. Cash puffed
into the kitchen and swung the
box down on the table where
Grandmother, who had heard
every word of the back-stairs
conversation, was cutting a
wedge of pie for him,
"That's mighty good of you,"
he declared, taking the plate
she offered him. "No thanks,.
no fork." he slipped it down,
western-style, out of his hand.
"Say, that is a tasty pie. I'd be
proud if my June could make
one just like it,"
Grandmother looked at him,
"She can," she said, and her eyes
were capped with whimsey,
"when we women of Pinetown
get together,"
I cannot say with certainty
that this was the beginning of
a paperbound five-by-seven-inch
book called Practical High Alti-
tude Cooking, but I well believe
it might haVe beena I know such
a hook, hardly more than a
pamphlet, appeared in print
about sixty years ago. Many
close friends of Grandmother's,
whom I remember for fingers
stacked with diamond rings, are
represented therein. Many an
early merchant, now part of the
Pinetown legend, inserted his
advertisement among the recipes,
writes A. H.. Robinson in The
Christian Science Monitor,
*
There was no date of publi-
cation and no copyright on the
flyleaf, only an endearing pre-
face of a single paragraph re-
vealing the helpfulness of pio-
neea. fiber: "In presenting this
little book to the public it is our
earnest desire that it may prove
a Mutual.. benefit.' While it is
not claimed that all the recipes
are new inventions in cooking
they are a collection gathered
mostly from our,homes and have
been tested and are known to be
practical for high-altitude cook-
ing."
' Front and back covers were
neat blocks of advertising in
black print from The First
National Bank, the Jeweler's
("special line of solid silver"),
and a House Furnishing Com-
rpany, decorated with a pen
Sketch of a kitchen range. The
recipes fell in logical order be-
ginning with "Soups" to a cli-
matic "Useful Hints for House-
keepers." -Set among more ad-
vertisements, even then the bane
of a li,d nut,
of revilnal .aver hut rather to
be cla..ified No-:h
can Cookery, including "Mexi,
1.1,1ms,"
Iletween Jellicd • :teat • arat
Mince Meat appeared Om Power
Company's "Arc and Imiandes,..
cent Light Service. Also Gas Tor
Light and. Fuel at Lowest liate.4";,
dircetly under Marble Cake,.
The -Saddlery and Implement
Company's "Headquarters for
everything for the horse and
stable." .Seasoning other peps.
was the notice of "exclusive md-
finery," a shoeman, the steam
laundry, a scissors grinder; aim
that "All good cooks use phone
107 for nut coal," Like a rib-
bon across the top of every other
page ran a single reminder of
what was to be bad at Cash's
Cash Store: "mealy potatoes,"
"potted meats for washday
meals," and "courteous clerks,"
• *
Cooking is considered an art
by those who know, and art pro-
vides plenty of leeway in which
the artist may express himself,
To work with the recipes in,
Practical High Altitude Cook-
ing must have made Grand,
mother and her friends feel most.
creative, for each left much room.
for a cook to cook as she would.
I can see them now in ponderous.
kitchens, tall women, small.
women, enveloped by pinafore
aprons, who carefully placed_
their diamonds an a sill above
the sink to keep the rainbowed
gems out of biscuit dough, Cre-
ative women, each in her own
way coping with "a heaping tea-
cup of flour," "a little salt,"
"enough sweet milk to make a.
batter," and a dessertspoon.
measure of sugar. Women who
were proud of the results.
* *
Each decided, how much but-
ter it .took for "butter size of an.
egg," a question, especially in
those days of ungraded eggs.
One cake recipe requested that
the batter be beaten very hard
one way; another that -It be
baked in a bright cake pan,
Cooking time and temperature,
were rarely mentioned.
Grandmother's recipe for
Lemon - Pie, which may or may
not have started off the whole
cookbook, appeared on page
forty-one and was noteworthy
for its use of two dessertspoons
of sugar in the meringue. Her
own favorite among the con-
tents, however, was the "Useful
Hint" call "How to. Preserve a
Husband."
It read: "Be careful in your
selection. Keep warm with do-
mestic devotion."
This was the one she used
every day,
In Bingo], Turkey, after he
brought back a young beauty to
marry his son but found that the
son had meanwhile married an-
Other Saileyman Mahci decided
not to waste the dowry money,
married the •girl himself.
ON STAGE, Mit. TRUMAN - Television cameramen, invade the
tranittti Library to tape a portion of a Jack. Benny TV show
for this fall In which former President Harry Truman (left) is
guest. Above, TrUrriciri tells Denny to put 'he aold head, of
the preildentiat flogttciff rti the box 'instead of hit pocket be-
fore he leav6i the room.
MUTT-MUTT BOAT Twelve year-old Ginger Jones Was the
proudest skipper on Sunapee as she rode her orie-dogpower
"Cruiser." She fought her Labrader retriever "Rex" lb lbw her
around the lake on a surfboard;
;:iW‘tii* aa .:a.-sa,a.:•,•:,..;:e A::•:,1:,..4,e,,...,::;.... - ,...A'.4i, :,, • :::.ii•;
Sleek and shapely sheath—required daytime fashion in a smart
collage girl's Wardrdbe. Requir'ed', too, for its professional finish
is Trinitek rayon seats binding that ekactl:t. matches dress color.
Printed Pattern 4100 conies in Junior Miss Sixes 9, 11, 13, is„ 17,
To order send Potty Ceints (stamps cannot be accepted, use postal
note for safety to ANN g AbAlVf8, Bolt 1, 123 itighteetith St.,
New Toronto, Ont. Please print plainly NAlltt i AbtAttSs,
Wilif1.11 MliiiiMiAt and SAL%
:1 .l'
-AcilMta sto.v\TFort.-'the
$514 tsktuttiri.nut
I