1940s Archive

Food Flashes

continued (page 2 of 4)

Skim milk products are due for a boon. First along is a new ready-mix powder with a skim milk base for making a frozen dessert. Until the war brought the need to utilize every bit of the nation's available food, some fifty billion pounds of skim milk, a by-product of the butter factories, were discarded annually, or fed to livestock. The government asked that this tremendous waste be turned into powder for Lend-Lease and the Army. Plants were built and soon a vast quantity of skim dehydrated milk was being shipped to all parts of the world. Now manufacturers are looking for new ways to use this nutritious powder, high in protein, vitamins, minerals. Skim milk, you know, is identical to whole milk except the fat's gone.

“Tissert” is the name of this skim milk dessert, putting in a New Year appearance. The mix requires only the addition of water, milk, or cream, them a good beating and it's ready to freeze. Contained in the powder is a magic ingredient for speeding up the freezing period to a mere forty-five minutes. A four-ounce package (price around 19 cents) yields one quart of smooth creamy deliciousness. And never a crystal—that quick-freezing ingredient, a secret of the maker, Homix Products, Inc., guarantees against this. The product is planned for national distribution in the very near future. Selling now in New York City at the Bloomingdale grocery, Lexington Avenue at 59th Street, the stores of the Gristede chain, and at Abraham & Straus, 420 Fulton Street, Brooklyn.

Around we go looting the food world of its pleasures. This time it was a slice of smoked Nova Scotia salmon we sampled at Old Denmark, 135 East 57th Street. It's different, it's sweet and delicious! The difference is this: The shop buys the best of the Nova Scotia salmon, then ships to a Danish smoker in California for a slow 21-day treatment called the “Waywood.” Once the salmon has come to that exact point of succulence of which nothing is whicher, it is shipped back to the shop to sell for $2.50 a pound. Thinly sliced, a pound cuts twenty-five to thirty pieces. That's no great price—and it's the same price since long before war. And the price isn't going soaring. Danish-style, slow-smoked, rosy-fleshed salmon is the Old Denmark leader—and leaders are not allowed to suffer inflation.

Cracked wheat as it's served in Syrian and Armenian restaurants has been restyled and box-packed for quick cooking to please the American palate. George Haig, Armenian by birth, captain in the United States Army and returned recently from overseas, is processing and marketing the wheat out of New Haven, Connecticut.

The wheat is washed, then precooked and dried; next the outer husk is removed and the kernel cracked, but the germ left intact. Ten to twelve minutes' boiling time and the wheat cooks tender to use as a breakfast cereal to eat with sugar and cream. It is adaptable as a meat extender in patties and loaves. We recommend it especially as a stuffing for fowl. Cooked, the grain is slightly similar in taste and appearance to expensive wild rice and what's more, can be used in all the same ways.

“Haig's Wheet” is at TelBurn of New York, 161 East 53rd Street, 50 cents a pound package. It sells, too, in numerous independent grocery stores in and around New Haven.

First cheese to arrive from the Continent is the sapsago of Switzerland, made of skim milk and herbs, a pale green substance, cone-shaped, hard as a rock, a cheese for the grater, for flavoring egg dishes, bowls of soup, macaroni, spaghetti. It's good over the plain boiled potato. Wherever a dusting of cheese is indicated in a recipe, sapsago can do the job and in a way different. The Swiss love the green cheese finely grated, then blended with butter to spread on thin slices of dark bread. A variation oddly pleasant is to spread bread with butter and grated sapsago, then lay on thin slices of sausage or ham, and broil until sizzling. Sapsago is around town: Charles and Company, 340 Madison Avenue, has it, also Maison Glass, 15 East 47th Street.

The mandarin orange returns, packed in light syrup, here from Brazil selling at Bloomingdale's, Lexington at 59th Street, the thirteen and one-half-ounce tin, 46 cents. Know what it is? The mandarin orange is the tangerine at its top best. The sections are uniform in size and in shape, free of membrane and seeds. These tiny orange segments plump with juice goodness have a “come hither” way when served as a top-off for pudding. And good on ice cream, a dainty filling for the fragile tart shell. A section or two adds a gala touch to the salad. Pose a section atop a baked split sweet potato—a taste to remember!

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