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HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1956-03-22, Page 2TA8LE TALKS da.MAndeews. Here's the recipe for a des- *eerl dish that's very easy to make — and easy to eat too. Apple Crumble ounces butter 1:-2 ounces sugar 134 pounds apples, pe e l e d, cored, and sliced 6 ounces flour Finch salt Rub butter and flour together until mixture resembles bread crumbs. Add sugar and salt and mix well. Place prepared fruit in pie dish; add a little water if more moisture is needed. Sprinkle butter -flour sugar mixture over top. Bake at 350° F. until crust is golden brown and apples are ~tender, from 20 - SO minutes. * * * Real Scottish broth, of course, takes time and patience to pre- pare. But here's a substitute that will bring smiles to the faces of even those from the "land of cakes." SCOTTISH BROTH 2 ounces (34 teatcup) rice 3p i nts water 1 large onion, chopped 1 large carrot, grated Celery salt Salt and pepper 1 chicken bouillon cube 3s teacup chopped parsley Place water and rice in sauce- pan. While this is coming to boil, 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 nanny 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 %cup uncooked rice that has been washed and dried 1 cup water 134 cups cooked, diced lamb > cup canned tomatoes 1 tablespoon horseradish 1 teaspoon salt % teaspoon pepper ud of garlic, minced SKI CASUALTY — A crutch es- taecially 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 0 * * * Now 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 WRITE CAKE 3 cups sifted cake flour 4 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 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 vi - us 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 one oblong pan, bake just 35 minutes. Romance at Last For Filar 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 infilmdom with whom her name has never been linked—stuntman Bob Morgan. Says De Carlo: "We love and understand one another, We like the same thing's , and we have the same friends." Through the years of gossip and rumour 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 me 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 eoleng far ays improvised "sleigh ride" on her father's coattails. tier ride was across Paris' ice -bound Bois de Boulogne lake. It's plrettt for the youngster but awfully tough on the topcoat. ^'K y.w, ..., ��aCiK v;..0 ..•.:5r::a:::!�•✓wY.:.............:.::k�s''�e£r.,..'t.:3:;i:a...� CHECK HIM! — A real fancy pants in new Scotch plaid trouser— 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 roreance out of it." But the wilder the 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), kissed the De Carlo hand':at. Madrid airport, it was taken as a 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—but she has realized how risky it can be in show business, with its high divorce rate. Her family and friends have k n o w n 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 froth, 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 -e 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 Cornel Lucas (this was before Lucas met and married Belinda Lee.) Th es e 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 n.ale r .'•hirers; 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 awayat 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 oft 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. S.ugarMaking 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 horses 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, examiningt h e wounds ,fro 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 straight, 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 a 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 firewall and in the 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 mudbs5at cut into the wagon paths, we would .Hake the rounds to empty the buckets of "sugar water" into the targe barrel anchored to the mudboat, Most of the buckets would be full, capped with a thin film of ice. Here and there 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 made depended upon such practical questions as: Were you looking ahead to a winter's breakfast w i t h 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." Eggs boiled in the foaming evaporator, potatoes baked in the hot ashes at the hearth of the flaming furnace, bacon and ham and even 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 little more wood," Father would say, and we'd face into the darkness toward the woodpile. Outside the range of the fire and away from the circle of loved o n e s, we would feel a /sudden chill of fear as we peer- ed into the blackness of a frosty night. But we stumbled on — a n d happily — for the mud around the woodpile was now almost rigid and unyielding: to- morrow would be another excel- lent "sugaring" day. Now and then the 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. Odlland ;reports that records of all food eaten tor seven consecutive days by 418 Montana college freshmen and 15-year-oldhigh 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 oot,.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 sim- ple pattern for a basic breakfast was used: a fruit, preferably a • citrus fruit, some type of grain food such as broad or breakfast cereal, plus an aimal .protein, s'ieh as milk, egg or meat. However, only 36 per cent nt the 1Vlontana girls and 4(t per cent of the boys ate a breakfast rated adequate by these mini- mum standards. Dr. Odland points out that the poor showing of 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 nation wide studies, However, 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. f'U IJRE DANGER from inadequate breakfast habits of .today's teens lies in unbalanced breakfasts for tomorrow's families.