Miss Julia Stirs Up Trouble: A Novel (4 page)

(Hazel Marie, these are Ida Lee’s recipes, but we’re pretending they’re Mildred’s.)

2 tablespoons butter or margarine

1 garlic clove, peeled and split

1 bay leaf

2 pounds round steak, chuck, or sirloin, cut into cubes

2 medium onions, sliced

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon paprika

1
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cups water

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cup tomato juice

2
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tablespoons flour

2 cups sour cream

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

1 cup canned mushrooms, drained (or
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pound fresh, sautéed in butter)

In a Dutch oven, heat the butter and add the garlic and bay leaf. Add the meat and onions and brown. Add the salt, paprika, and water. Cover the Dutch oven and simmer until the meat is tender (about 1 hour).

Mix the tomato juice, flour, sour cream, and Worcestershire sauce in a bowl and add to the meat mixture. Add the mushrooms. Heat until hot, remove the bay leaf, and serve over noodles or rice.

Serves 6.

(You won’t go wrong with this next one, Hazel Marie. It’s one of Sam’s favorites.)

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons water

3 eggs

1 pint whipping cream, whipped

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 tablespoon sweet sherry

2 dozen stale macaroons, finely crumbled

Cook the sugar and water in a small saucepan until the sugar is dissolved and a syrup forms. Separate the eggs and beat the yolks and whites in separate bowls. Then beat the syrup into the whipped egg whites. Fold in the beaten egg yolks and the whipped cream. Season with the vanilla and sherry.

In a loaf pan, layer the mixture with the macaroon crumbs, starting and ending with macaroons. Freeze overnight. When ready to serve, run a sharp knife along the edges and dip the pan quickly in hot water. Turn out and slice. This is a lovely, light dessert for a ladies’ luncheon, but men like it, too.

Serves 8.

“Well, that’s one day filled,” I announced as I stepped into the kitchen at home. “Lillian, both Mildred and Ida Lee are excited about this. They’re even looking forward to it. Can you believe it?”

“Believe what?” Sam asked, as I turned and saw him sitting at the table.

“Oh, you’re up. Did you get enough sleep?” I put my folder on the table and sat beside him.

“I’m feeling a whole lot better,” he said, putting his hand on mine. He looked a whole lot better, too. “I’m hoping the twins kept James awake today so he’ll sleep tonight. But tell me what’ve you been up to.”

So I told him, and he thought it was an inspired idea. “You know what it reminds me of?” he asked, his eyes sparkling. “The way Tom Sawyer got his fence painted, remember? And your timing is perfect. Pickens is leaving this afternoon instead of tomorrow, so he can be back here Saturday for the weekend. Won’t he be surprised to have Ida Lee’s fancy beef dish for supper?”

I beamed at the thought, then immediately began to worry about who I could get to be the next cook in Hazel Marie’s kitchen.

“I’m going on over,” Sam said, rising from the table. “Lillian, if you’re sending something, I’ll take it with me.”

“It’s awfully early, Sam,” I said, having hoped to have a few more minutes with him before he left for the night.

“I know, but with Pickens leaving, Hazel Marie will need the help. I just spoke to her on the phone and both babies were screaming and James was clanging his bell.” Sam laughed. “I told her a bell wasn’t a good idea, but she was afraid he’d need something. Anyway,” he went on as he picked up the foil-wrapped Pyrex dish that Lillian had prepared, “this just needs heating up?”

“Yessir,” Lillian said, handing him a full sack. “They’s some rolls in here and a can of peas. They need to be heated, too.”

Just as Sam kissed me and headed out, with me vacillating over whether or not to go with him, the front doorbell rang.

“Who could be calling this near suppertime?” I mumbled as I hurried through the dining room to the front door.

“Julia!” LuAnne Conover cried as she rushed in. “I just heard about James. How bad is it? What’s Hazel Marie going to do? I heard he broke both arms and a foot! My goodness, he’ll be laid up for months.” She didn’t break stride until she reached the Duncan Phyfe sofa in the living room where she immediately sat, expecting me to follow.

“No, no, LuAnne. Where did you hear that? He only broke his wrist and sprained an ankle.” I sat down beside her.

“Well, it’s all over town that he’s lucky not to have broken his neck. I mean, going headfirst over that little landing at the top of his stairs—it’s a wonder he didn’t kill himself.”

“Wait, LuAnne, wait. He didn’t go headfirst over anything. He tripped over his feet on his way down the stairs. I declare, I don’t know how such rumors get started.”

“I heard it at Velma’s when I was getting color and then again in the drugstore. But it’s just a wrist and an ankle? That’s not so bad, then.”

“Well, it’s bad enough. It’s his right wrist and he has a cast that covers most of his fingers. LuAnne,” I said, leaning toward her with a pitiful note in my voice, “the poor thing can’t use that hand at all, and you know he’s right-handed. I don’t know what in the world Hazel Marie’s going to do. She’s taking care of him, and with two babies in diapers and beginning to teethe . . .” I sighed.

“Oh,” LuAnne said, her eyes widening as she realized Hazel Marie’s critical situation. “He’s not able to cook, is he?”

I lowered my eyes and shook my head. Sorrowfully. “We’re doing all we can to help. Lillian is so generous with her time, but she can’t be on her feet that much. Corns, you know. But,” I said, lifting my head with a hopeful look, “Mildred and Ida Lee are going over Saturday morning, and Ida Lee is going to give Hazel Marie a cooking lesson. They’re going to make beef stroganoff, so she’ll learn how to do it and have something for supper that evening, too.”

“Why, what a good idea!” LuAnne exclaimed. “I was going to take a dish myself. Like I always do, you know. But to show her how to make it herself, why, it’s like what they say: Teaching a man how to fish is better than giving him a fish.” She eagerly reached toward me. “Why don’t I teach her one of my recipes? Not on the same day, of course, but another day, when she’ll need another meal. What do you think, Julia? Which one of my dishes would she like?”

“Something easy, LuAnne,” I quickly said. “I’m hoping that fancy beef dish of Ida Lee’s won’t discourage her. Think of something that will give her some confidence. And, listen, I’ve come up with an idea that I’ve been thinking about for some time. I want to collect recipes from all her friends and put them in a book for her to have. So, if you would show her how to make one main dish, I’d like to include that in the book along with any others you want to share. But you won’t need to demonstrate those—unless you just want to. What do you think?”

“I think,” she said, rising from the sofa, “I’m going to run home and get my recipe book. I’ll be right back so we can decide on my main dish. You don’t eat supper this early anyway, do you? Put me down for a day before they’re all taken up. How about Monday? I’ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

And off she went.

“Lillian,” I said, going back to the kitchen with a big smile on my face, “this is going to be easier than I thought.”

When LuAnne returned bearing several books, we sat again on the sofa and she began leafing through the pages.

“Now tell me what you already have,” she said briskly. “I don’t want to go to the trouble of looking up mine if you already have them. I mean, who wants half a dozen apple pie recipes? And, besides, there are a few things Hazel Marie needs to know other than just plain old recipes.”

I didn’t know why it all had to be done at my house and not hers, for I had offered to drive up the mountain to her condo. But I hadn’t insisted, because I figured she wanted an excuse to get out of the house, Leonard being ensconced in front of the television set all day, every day, without a word of conversation except, “What’s for supper?”

So we sat there in my living room, LuAnne with a pad on her knee and a pen in her hand. “I’m also going to be writing down some little household hints that might come in handy—not right now, but over time, as I think of them. All you have to do is help me remember because, as you know, we’ve been doing these things so long that it’s second nature and we don’t even consciously think of them anymore.” She paused, tapped her pen against the pad, then went on. “Well, maybe not you, since you have Lillian.”

And right there was LuAnne’s problem—she was resentful of the good fortune of her friends. It had taken me a long while to figure out that it wasn’t envy, exactly, because she didn’t want Helen Stroud or Mildred Allen or me to lose what we had. Although Helen, bless her heart, no longer qualified as an enviable subject due to the follies of her now-deceased husband.

No, LuAnne didn’t want ours, she just wanted some of her own. So the resentment was not toward us, but toward Leonard, who seemed to have moseyed or slept through his entire working life and was now doing the same in his retirement.

“The first thing Hazel Marie needs to learn,” LuAnne said briskly, “is how to make her own mayonnaise. That’s the sign of a good cook and a careful housekeeper.”

“Oh, LuAnne, surely not. All that dribbling in and whipping—she’d never get the hang of it. There’s good mayonnaise on the shelves and hardly anybody knows the difference anymore.”

“Well, but there’re so many choices. Some people say that you have to have Duke’s for tomato sandwiches, which I like myself. Then others swear by salad dressing.”

“Too sweet for me.”

“Me, too. But, see, Julia, I know Lillian makes yours because you wouldn’t have anything else in your house.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, LuAnne. Lillian makes it only when she’s in the mood and usually only for party sandwiches. Otherwise, we use Hellmann’s.”

“You do? Well, my goodness.” LuAnne was momentarily stopped by the thought.

And that was the result of the problem I just mentioned. She wanted to live on the grand scale that she assumed her friends did, except they didn’t. At least, this friend didn’t. Why, one time she and I were co-hosting a circle meeting at my house and I found her in the kitchen hand-squeezing lemons into a pitcher of tea. I said, “For goodness sakes, LuAnne, don’t waste your time. There’s a bottle of ReaLemon in the refrigerator. Just pour some in and be done with it.” She looked shocked for a minute, then said, “Well, that’s what I use, but I didn’t think you did.”

It’s my firm conviction that whatever convenience the Lord makes available, it’s incumbent on us to be grateful for it and use it. I see no virtue in doing things the hard way merely for the sake of doing them the hard way. Just get on with it, is my attitude.

“If that’s the case, then,” LuAnne said in response to learning that Hellmann’s mayonnaise took pride of place in my kitchen, “I guess I can give Hazel Marie some of my quick and easy recipes. But I promise you, Julia, I serve them only to Leonard. I’d never serve them to guests.”

“Quick and easy is exactly what I want,” I assured her. “We’re dealing with Hazel Marie, which means we’ll be lucky if she even
thinks
of mayonnaise until Mr. Pickens wants a sandwich.”

“Okay, then,” LuAnne said, opening a recipe book that was full of handwritten or typed recipes. “What I’m going to do is give her some that start with something ready-made. You know, like box cakes, but box cakes that have extra added ingredients that make them special. But tell her that she shouldn’t use these when she’s entertaining. People will talk about her if she does. She should borrow Lillian or wait till James is well to have a party or a luncheon. People will understand when they hear what happened to him. In the meantime, though, these I’m going to give you will help her put something on the table for her family. She won’t have time to do any entertaining anytime soon, anyway. Here,” she said, holding out her recipe book, “copy this one down.”

Mix together the following ingredients thoroughly:

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cup catsup

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cup water

1 tablespoon vinegar (LuAnne uses apple cider vinegar)

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tablespoon salt

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tablespoon paprika

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teaspoon black pepper

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teaspoon chili powder

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Salt and pepper 4 medium-thick pork chops (you can also use chicken or ribs) and place them in a foil-lined pan or ovenproof dish. Arrange a slice of onion on top of each chop, then pour barbecue sauce over all.

Cover with foil and bake until the meat is done—about 1 to 2 hours, depending on the thickness of the chops.

Remove the foil about 10 minutes before taking the pan from the oven.

Serves 4.

(Not all barbecue has to be done outside on a grill, Hazel Marie. It’s safer to put it in the oven and be done with it.)