1940s Archive

Food Flashes

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Shadowbrook Farm has bacon a part of the year. There's a stock on hand now, selling at $1 a pound and postpaid on orders of $5 and over. And don't forget the Shadowbrook sausage which we recently mentioned. This is a pork sausage made from the meat of young hogs, made by an old New England farm recipe. The meat is coarsely ground, nothing is added except the seasonings. Every piece of the hog that goes into the sausage could be used as an individual cut for the table, according to J. Ritchie Kimball, the sausage maker. A batch is turned out every two weeks in 250-pound lots. This is divided into two-pound and five-pound rolls, wrapped in cellophane, then in stockinette, in locker paper, and into the freezer. The sausage sells at $1 a pound, parcel post, special delivery prepaid on shipments of five pounds and more. The minimum shipment is two pounds, the price $2, plus carrying costs. The sausage is taken from the freezer, wrapped and shipped immediately, frequently arriving at journey's end still in its hard-frozen state.

Thirty-five years ago a young fellow named Arnold Reuben owned a modest little sandwich shop on upper Broad-way. Possessed of an exuberant personality, Reuben began to snare in the famous ones of the stage for after-theater eating. Soon Reuben's became the meeting place of the “greats” and “near-greats” of the amusement world. No everyday sandwich did young Reuben serve. His sandwiches had a touch, a look all their own.

“Move downtown,” his celebrity customers urged. “It's unhandy coming up here just to get a quick bite.” Reuben moved to the fifties and promptly doubled, tripled, quadrupled his business. Now he opens his new million-dollar restaurant at 212 West 57th Street. This establishment is more than a restaurant, it's a village of shops. Enter the lobby and look to your left—there's the men's grill, the cocktail lounge, and the bar. Ahead is the main dining room. But turn right to visit the flower shop to see the fruit baskets, the bakery, the delicacies. Theater tickets are sold, there's a novelty counter if you want to pick up a small gift. Maybe you'd like a shave before dinner? There's a barber shop on the premises, open all hours.

The food department is postwar as a radar range. Here are the finest of the canned and jarred delicacies of the food world.

STUFF AND STUFF: Crêpes Suzette, disjointed roasted goose in tins, smoked turkey of many brands, pâté de foie gras, herring tidbits, a collection of fine cheeses, pitted dates in brandy, a section of roasted meats and poultry, smoked salmon, smoked sturgeon, smoked turkey.

Don't be overlooking Reuben's world-famous cheesecake. Before the war this honey-toned cake traveled to addresses as far apart as Bermuda, Honolulu, and London. The cake's client list of more than a thousand names is kept by card file. This is a cheesecake of the soufflé type, its center firm like a custard. And a custard it is, being made of cream cheese lightly whipped up with eggs to a satiny smoothness; zwieback crumbs give tender walls. Rich and tiny are the petits fours, gooey and yummy the French pastries. Here are the crumb cakes, fig puddings, fruit pies, all be-seechingly entreating the passerby to be taken home and eaten.

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