HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1956-03-22, Page 6;' ��� TA TM3LE TALKS
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Here's the recipe for a des-
rest dish that's very easy to
make — and easy to eat too.
Apple Crumble
3 ounces butter
1-2 ounces sugar
Zit pounds apples, pee 1 e d,
cored, and sliced
6 ounces flour
Pinch salt
Rub butter and flour together
until mixture resembles bread
crumbs. Add sugar and salt and
ataix well. Place prepared fruit
an pie dish; add a little water
if more moisture is needed.
Sprinkle butter -flour sugar
msixture over top, Bake at 250°
F. until crust is golden brown
and apples are tender, from 20-
30 minutes.
* * *
Real Scottish broth, of course,
takes time and patience to pre-
pare. But here's a substitute
that will bring smiles to the
daces of even those from the
"land of cakes."
SCOTTISH BROTH
2 ounces (r/ teatcup) rice
3 pints water
1 Large onion, chopped
1 large carrot, grated
Celery salt
Salt and pepper
1 chicken bouillon cube
34 teacup chopped parsley
Place water and rice in sauce-
pan. While this is coming to
Tool], chop onion, grate carrot
and add. Add seasonings and
bouillon cube. Last, add the
parsley. Allow this to simmer
about 30 minutes or more until
serving time, Four to five serv-
ings .
* * *
Left -overs are a problem in
many hoimes. You have some-
thing that's too good to throw
out -and yet somewhat un-
appetizing when served up in
the same old way. Here's a re-
cipe you might find uesful.
LEFT -OVER LAMB
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, shopped
34eup uncooked rice that has
been washed and dried
1 eup water
We cups cooked, diced lamb
1 cup canned tomatoes
1 tablespoon horseradish
1 teaspoon salt
M teaspoon pepper
Bud of garlic, minced
i1K1 CASUALTY — A crutch es-
pecially made for him enables
'Luger," a Doberman Pincer, to
get around on his broken leg.
The dog, a mascot of an Okla-
homa City ski club, broke the
leg while accompanying the
club on a ski trip. Now he's eli-
gible for the club's "Golden
Crutch", an award to members
who break bones on the ski
slope.
Melt butter in skillet;. add
chopped onion and rice. Cook
over low heat until rice is
brown, Add all other ingredi-
over high heat until steaming,
then reduce heat to low to fin-
ish about 30 minutes cooking.
Stir once or twice while cook-
ing.
Serves 6
* * *
Nowt for a white cake. There
are a million — more or less —
recipes for such a cake, but this
is one I hadn't run across be-
fore.
FLUFFY WHITE CAKE
3 cups sifted cake flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
M teaspoon salt
2 cups sugar
4 eggs, unbeaten
Milk as directed below
10 tablespoons melted butter
Sift together the flour, baking
powder, sugar, and salt 3 times.
Break eggs into cup and finish
filling with milk; add to flour
mixture. Add an additional cup
of milk. Add melted butter.
Beat in electric mixed vigorous-
ly for 3 minutes (or it may be
beaten by hand). Pour into 9 -
inch layer pans and bake in
preheated 375° F. oven for 25
minutes or until done. If bat-
ter is poured into ene oblong
pan, bake just 35 minutes.
Romance at Last
For Film Star
No one has been so hounded
by rumours of romance as Yvon-
ne de Carlo, Hollywood star of
two dozen Eastern films.
Ever since she was tagged "The
Most Beautiful Girl In The
World" and cast in "Salome,
Where She Danced," gossip
writers have talked about De
Carlo and "the men in her life."
That makes twelve years of ru-
mour and counter -rumour,
First Romance
Now, to the wide-eyed sur-
prise of her family and close
friends, she's married to one of
the few men in filmdom with
whom her name has never been
linked—stuntman Bob Morgan.
Says De Carlo: "We love and
understand one another. We
like the same things and we
have the same friends."
Through the years of gossip
and ruiiiour Yvonne de Carlo
has seldom been silent. She is
on record as saying some very
eyebrow -raising things about
men, romance and marriage,
But the truth is that very sel-
dom has De Carlo really said
what was in her mind,
She has stuck her tongue in
her cheek and said startling
things partly to shut up prying
questioners.
In 1943, when De Carlo was
an unknown actress under con-
tract to the Paramount studio—
"I was the girl stooge when di-
rectors wanted to test new
young actors," she told Inc once
—there came the public an-
nouncement of her first romance.
"Yvonne de Carlo," ran the
story, "and John H. Kiser, en-
gineer in the Merchant Marine,
yesterday announced their en-
gaement . , . she met him while
touring with a dance unit in
Colorado and told him to look
her up if he ever came to Holly-
wood."
That romance faded pretty
quickly. Yvonne de Carlo was
then twenty. Two years later
everyone at first believed a
story that she had secretly mar-
ried millionaire oil and film
chief, Howard Hughes. It was
untrue—like the other rumours
that practically stumbled over
themselves during the next few
years.
One day—so it was reported
with some exageration — De
HITCHHIKER — This young but imaginative Parisienne tags
along for an improvised "sleigh ride" on her father's coattails.
Her ride was across Paris' ice -bound Bois de Boulogne, lake. It's
greatfor the youngster but awfully tough on the topcoat.
CHECK HIM! -- A real fancy pants in new Scotch plaid trousers—
that's "Billy," a three-year-old rooster owned by Gerald Botimer.
The White Rock cock has several pairs of pants, but these new
ones are for Easter. And they are really something to crow
about, what with their red buttons up the legs. Naturally, Billy's
a neighborhood curiosity as he struts around the Botimer yard
in his classy togs.
Carlo ended an engagement that
her publicity schedule hadn't
arranged to take place until the
following week.
Her studio (Universal) real-
ized that Yvonne de Carlo and
romance went together like
champagne and caviare. So the
studio created romances, then
counted the Press cuttings.
All this time De Carlo was
saying very little, and what she
did say was fairly straightfor-
ward, such as: Every time I
dance with a man someone
makes a romance out of it"
But the wilder4t he stories be-
came, the wilder—inwardly—
became De Carlo. She decided
the only way to make them
sound as silly as she thought
they were was to say things
equally goofy.
When Spanish matador Mario
Cabre (who had already writ-
ten poems for Ave Bardner),
14tssed the De Carlo hand at
Madrid airport, it was taken as
e romance signal. SOon after-
wards she was reported dancing
with Aly Khan in. Europe.
Then the tongue-in-cheek
campaign really began. "I'm
going to marry the first man to
fly to the moon—because he
could take me some place I've
never been before," said De
Carlo,
Also: "The fact is, I get less
and less fond of the idea of
marriage. I want freedom and
independence." That crack real-
ly showed how firmly the De
Carlo tongue was in the De
Carlo cheek.
For over the past twelve
years, Yvonne de Carlo has
wanted to marry -4 -but she has
realized how risky it can be in
show business, with its high
divorce rate. Her family and
friends have known how
seriously she has thought of
marriage and how irritating she
has found the rumours.
Names such as Juan Fern-
andez (rich Uruguayan), the
Earl of Lanesborough, Carlos
Thompan (Argentinian actor
introduced by her to Holly-
wood), Rock Hudson, the Shah
of Persia and his brother, Ab-
dorraza .. , these were bandied
from one gossip column to an-
other.
In private Yvonne de Carlo
admitted her worries. To a
friendly official at a British
studio she said: "I want to mar-
ry, but it's such an awful risk.
If I marry it'll probably be to
someone earning a tenth of my
salary—and that can lead to
trouble."
She wanted to continue her
career; hadn't considered any
stars of equal rating as a suit-
able love match — they just
weren't her romantic cup of tea.
During her stay to film in
Britain, around - two years ago,
she formed two friendships, and
people close to her believed that
either 'might have blossomed
into lasting romance. One was
with actor Robert Urquhart, the
other with photographer Come]
Lucas (this was before Lucas
met and married Belinda Lee.)
These friendships faded.
Yvonne was certainly saddened
by their ending—and by the
fading of her friendship with
Claude Boissol, a French film
writer, soon afterwards.
Cynics insist that some of the
rumours of Yvonne de Carlo's
romantic life must be true, or
partly true, She must have
been in love during these
twelve, gossip -spattered years..
Well — she's always admitted
that she likes men's company;
she's always been surrounded
by ,,.ale s 'miters; she's accept-
ed date after date and enjoyed
each one fully.
Once her cousin, Ken Ross -
Mackenzie. (now a London
photographer), told her studio
that she was away at an Inac-
cessible Canadian ranch when,
in fact, she had flown off to
Persia for a few weeks.
All this is true enough, but
only now, at thirty-three, has
she found happiness in mar-
riage.
Husband Bob Morgan is fair-
ish and tall—the Nordic type,
And that reminds me of prob-
ably the first thing Yvonne de
Carlo remembers saying about
men, romance and marriage. It
was: "My ideal man is the
Nordic type."
So it looks as though, after
one of the longest, most report-
ed and mis-reported searches in
film history, Yvonne de Carlo
has found her true ideal.
The rumours, at last, are
silenced.
AZALEA QUEEN — Pretty Alma
Eleanor Eastland, has been
named Queen of the Third In-
ternational Azalea Court. The
22 -year-old queen will reign
over Azalea Week festivities.
Sugar Making In The Bush
As a child it seemed me that
the deepening mark of a horse's
hoof on the thawing soil was the
symbol of our favourite season,
As the horse's named Ned and
Fred were led to the watering
tank shortly after dawn, their
winter - grown hooves clattered
against the flinty barnyard, but
if by mid-morning their feet be -
ban to sink into the mud it was
almost a sure sign that Grand-
father and Father would be
spending the day in the "sugar
camp."
The "camp" was about a half-
mile from our house, and it con-
sisted of some 20 acres and per-
haps 300 sugar -maple trees grow-
ing among hundreds of beech,
ash, and oak. It was Ned, the
gentler and older horse, who
generally had the honour of
pulling the mudboat laden with
sapbuckets, spiles, axes, hatchets
and an assortment of other
equipment necessary for the
"opening."
Grandfather walked ahead as
we moved into the woods. He
looked over the trees with a cri-
tical eye, touching the bark in
what was almost a caressing ges-
ture, examining t h e wounds
from previous. "tappings," and
sometimes he would say: "We'll
let this one rest a year," and
move on to another. He carried
the bucket of spiles — the semi-
tubular spigots to be inserted
into the trees — and Father took
care of the boring of the holes.
It was a great day when I be-
came big enough to handle the
buckets. My job was to hang
the bucket on the little hook be-
neath the spile. "Hang it straights,
son," Grandfather would say.
"By tomorrow morning that
bucket will be brimming full. If
it isn't level, we'll lose good
sap."
It wasn't easy to carry the
heavy wooden buckets — made
heavier for ° Father's soaking
them in a nearby stream for
several days, so they wouldn't
leak. Later, we purchased metal
buckets, and they were easier
to handle, but they rusted easily.
Making the rickety building,
Or "boiling room," ready for use
was not an easy task, but the
anticipated pleasures made it
worth while. It could hardly be
called a building at all; it was
it three -sided, metal -roofed ca-
bin with rough benches around
two sides. In one corner was
the dry wood carried over from
last season for kindling the fire.
The "furnace" was On the
open side of the cabin. Its hearth
extended far back into the build-
ing and at its opposite end —
on the outside and built high
enough so there was no danger
of fire was the brick chim-
ney. The fire -pit was about
eight or nine feet long and three
feet wide, and dug down into
the earth some two or three feet.
A brick fire wall was built up
along the side of the pit to a
level of about two feet above
the floor level of the cabin.
The gigantic metal boiling pan,
divided into sections, rested on
top of the fire walls and it was
into this that we poured the sap
or, as we called it, the "sugar
water." The pan, or "evapora-
tor," had to be lifted off the
furnace at the end of every sea-
son, cleaned carefully, a n d
greased so that it would not
rust writes Harvey C. Jacobs in
The Christian Science Monitor.
Then it was time to clean it
again and place it securely on
top of the fire walls. We must
also mortar the cracks in the
fire wall a n d in t h e chimney
where the squirrels and ground-
hogs had burrowed,
Early in the morning, before
Ned's hooves would wound the
tender grass roots or the run-
ners of the mudboat cut into the
Wagon paths, we would make the
rounds to empty the buckets of
"sugar water",: into the large
barrel anchored to the muclboat.
Most of the buckets would be
full, capped' with ,a thin film of
ice. Here andthere the night-
time chill had crept up on a
tree in the eager act of giving
up its sap and had frozen gro-
tesque tongues and lower lips
around the spiles. Sucking these
sugary icicles oftentimes slowed
the gathering process, but it
was a delightful premonition of
even sweeter delicacies.
When the sap was poured into
the evaporator (always in the
compartment nearest the open
hearth of the furnace) it could
be "made off" in one of three
ways, depending upon the length
of time it was boiled and the
handling it was given: molasses,
taffy, or maple sugar. The choice
you madedepended upon such
practical questions as; Were you
looking ahead to a winter's
breakfast with hot biscuits
drowned in golden syrup or were
you thinking of an evening of
young laughter around a "taffy-
pull" or a maple sugar "stir -
off?"
In any case golden syrupy
molasses were the base product
out of which grew countless
moments of social and culinary
pleasure. But these later mo-
ments were no more pleasure -
able than those attending the
days and nights of activity in
the cabin around the roaring
fire, amid the sweet and steamy
fragrance of the boiling "sugar
water."
E g g s boiled in the foaming
evaporator, potatoes baked in
the hot ashes at the hearth of
the flaming furnace, bacon and
ham and e v en an occasional
chicken cooked on coals raked
out on the dirt floor — these
became the tasty dishes around
which a "sugar -camp picnic"
was centered.
Then, late in the evening
there was the quiet contempla-
tion of the crackling fire, the
low hiss of the boiling water,
and the rustle of wind in the
trees. "A 11ttle more wood,"
Father would say, and we'd face
into the darkness toward the
woodpile.
Outside the range of the tare
and away from the circle of
loved ones, we would feel a
sudden chill of fear as we peer-
ed into the blackness of a frosty
night. But we stumbled on —
and happily — for the mud .-+y,
around the woodpile was now
almost rigid and unyielding: to-
morrow would be another excel-
lent "sugaring" day.
Now and then th e evening
freeze did not come, however,
and the spiles dripped all night
—. some slowly as if with reluc-
tance, others in a near -unending
stream with each swift drop
clutching at the one ahead. But
when it did not freeze at night
— "Ned will sink this morning,"
Grandfather would say — we
knew the sugar -making season
was ending.
The warm days came and
stayed, fusing with warm nights,
one after the other — each
blending with the one ahead —
as sweet drops of maple sap
dripping relentlessly into a
bucket.
Are You A Breakfast Delinquent ?
By Gaynor Maddox
NEA Food & Markets Editor
We are raising a crop of break-
fast delinquents. Most of them
are teen-age girls.
The latest warning signal
comes from the Montana Ex-
periment Station of the U S, De-
partment of Agriculture, Dr.
Lura M. Odland reports that
records of all food eaten for
seven consecutive days by 418
Montana college freshmen and
15 -year-old high school students
in two Montana towns revealed
that breakfast habits of girls are
considerably worse than of boys.
Ten per cent of the college
and high school girls had no
breakfast at all, or only cot,ee.
The results of this survey paral-
lel those in other states.
Dr. Frederick J. Stare, head of
Harvard's department of nutri-
tion, insists that an adequate
breakfast must consist of from
one-third to one-quarter of all
the food eaten during the day.
Other leading nutritionists agree
with him, Less than that is a
health hazzard, they warn, and
may even retard normal phy-
sical development.
In :the Montana survey, a sin).
pie pattern for a basic breakfast
was used: a fruit, preferably a
citrus fruit, ,some type of grain
food such as bread or breakfast
cereal, plus r an aimai protein,
with as milk, egg or meat,
However, only 30 per centnl.
the Montana girls and 40 per
cent of the boys ate a breakfast
rated adequate by these mini-
mum standards.
Dr. Odland points out that the
poor showing rot the girls is
cause for national concern. To-
day, many girls marry in their
late teens. Unless these youth-
ful brides and prospective mo-
thers are nutritionally fit and
know how to provide balanced
meals for their families, there
is danger ahead.
The passion for slenderness is
Enemy No. 1 of adequate break-
fasts for teen-age girls, accord-
ing to nationwide studies.
Ilowever, top nutritionists re-
port that girls who do eat one-
third to one-quarter of their
normal daily, intake at break-
fast, are less inclined to pile
up dreaded extra calories at
other meals and in soda fountain
snacks.
Because inadequate teen-age
breakfasts are a national health
problem, many universities and
high schools are now giving
courses in practical nutrition.
They hope to convince tomor-
row's guys. and dolls that sing-
ing for their supper is not
enough. They must sing at
breakfast, too.
FU1URE OANGER from inadequate breakfast habits of today's
teens lies in unbalanced breakfasts for tomorrow's, families.