This “Mill” brand is the spring catch so welcomed in Holland that in late May when the first herring comes it sells from street carts. “Spring herring, spring herring!” is the hawker's cry. Old and young come running, guilders in hand. The herring is eaten whose and on the spot, the fish held by the tail as the treat is consumed. Spring herring is to the Dutch as the hot dog is to us.
Numerous the ways of serving the fish but the favorite, perhaps, is to skin and filet, then to use as an appetizer with marinated onion rings and a big dip of seasoned sour cream.
A keg of these herring would do well for the main refreshment at a man's poker party. Behead the herrings with the scissors, skin, then filet. Trim the jagged edges of filets and cut into mouth-sized pieces. Let the guests help themselves to dark bread. Have a dish of sweet butter to bed down the herring and onion rings. Some will like lemon quarters handy to drizzle the tart juice over the salty fish bites. If the herring is too salty for your taste, soak first for twenty-four hours.
Some 10,000 kegs of this herring are in the markets, imported by Netherland American Import Corporation. It was in late May that the firm executives, Paul A. Spitler and Leo van Munching, flew to Holland to arrange for imports—herring, cheese, biscuits, and canned meat delicacies. The herring was the first arrival. Next along was a shipment of Heineken beer.
Blooker's cocoa will come in the sweet bye and bye but not yet, due to price restrictions by the O.P.A. Grondsma cheese will be heading this way by early spring, and it's hoped the Edams may be along before Christmas.
Pass the muskrat. “Marsh Hare” is playing a return winter engagement. Remember early in the war the plans Louisiana had for quick-freezing this little beastie of the swamps which she traps to the tune of some 6,000,000 annually? The fur is stripped off for market and the meat discarded. That wasted meat, Louisiana told the North, was equivalent to 6,000 beeves and would be a thumping contribution to aid the food shortage. New York nibbled at quick-frozen muskrat—but meagerly. “East Shore Maryland eats muskrat,” said new mothers. “Fine,” said New York, “let Maryland eat the swamprat.”
Now Mr. Muskrat is coming from Canada, and turned out mighty ritzy in aspic. The meat has been cooked until it virtually falls from the bones and is canned solid-pack with just enough gelatin to hold it in mold form when chilled. A pretty little pat, softly rose-tinted, in taste something like Sauerbraten. Don't think you can slice it, there are too many bones. The eight-ounce tin is selling at Charles and Company, 340 Madison Avenue, price 89 cents.
It's all-American home cooking, the old-time favorites like apple pie and clam chowder, that Mrs. Billie Hanrahan turns out at 947 Madison Avenue in a tiny shop called “The Cookery.”
It's a mother-son business. Son John figures prices, keeps accounts as well as helps with the cheffing. “He's a throw-back,” his mother explains. “All my family are good cooks, but my grand-mother, Elizabeth Marlow, had a famous inn in Lancastershire, England. John's like my grandmother.”
Mrs. Hanrahan must be like Grandma, too—she has always loved cooking and for years has been saying “Some day I'm going to open a food shop.”
“So you did it at last,” her friends say unbelievingly as they stop in to buy chowder or a hot chicken pie or a pot of Saturday beans. Everyone, of course, knew “Billie” could cook but she is the wife of that publicity power, John Hanrahan. It's a wonder he let her do it. But John Hanrahan thinks it's a great thing for Billie now that the children are grown. John himself wrote the aristocratic little folder, a hand-out to entice New Yorkers to buy the carry-home dinners.
Here's Papa Hanrahan's definition of the Parker House rolls: “Wispy, crisp, and golden brown, baked a few at a time the way they were done at the old Parker House. The apple pie,” he writes, “is filled with fresh apples and just the right spices with mouth-melting crust—the king of American desserts fit for the queen of the gods.” He likes his lady's cooking, all right!
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