Day after day the unblemished sun. It's hot, but still, with a warm welcome, we save hot stuff for the enchilada dinner from down-on-the-border, straight from a Texas kitchen ready to reheat in the home frying pan with a loud “Yippy-i-ee.” Three tins in the kit. First out, frijoles, the beans prepared with the pulp of red pepper. Next, a tin of enchilada sauce. It's rich, it's red, and it's hot, hotter, hottest. Last, the big tin of tortillas, the flat corn cakes of Old Mexico, ready for frying, 2 dozen, and each paper-thin, 6 inches wide.
Along with the trio of tins come directions for dinner. All you need add are a pair of onions and ½ pound of grated cheese. Get out a couple of skillets, and let's fry tortillas one at a time in shallow, hot fat; they crisp in two seconds. The enchilada sauce is in skillet two and made hot as blazes. Lift the tortillas from hot fat to hot sauce, then out to a cookie sheet. Sprinkle with chopped onion and cheese. When all are fried, stacked, and ready, place and cookie sheetful into a slow oven and bring them forth piping. Serve with a fried or poached egg topping each portion and ladle on the leftover sauce.
Serve the beans hot. Any extra tortillas pass as tostadas. Deep-fried, salted, they accompany the cocktails.
The enchilada dinner is advertised as sufficient for six. We say nix, not if you like Mexican fare—then three may eat. The price is $1.90 for the 3-tin set. Order from Valley Canning Company, P. O. Box 31, El Paso, Texas.
Send a bon voyage basket Western Union, no charge for your message. Ask for the gift-basket telegram blank which offers twelve suggestions for saying “Happy journey.” Three prices in baskets—$7.50, $10, and $12.50. You pay Western Union the basket cost only, the wire goes free along with your order to Seven Park Avenue Foods at 7 Oark Avenue. There are basket is packed and delivered to boat, plane, or train, to hospital or private residence in Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Long Island, or New Jersey. The store by special arrangement with Western Union pays for your greeting.
Thinking you would like to know in more detail what your money buys, we visited “Seven Park,” owned by Irving and Herman Kadushin, for a look at the merchandise. It's all of the best. In the $7.50 kit goes fruit, candies, jellies, and biscuits. Higher-priced baskets have additional luxuries; brandied fruits, Roman- off caviar, imported Strasbourg pâté. Candies are by Bagatelle and Louis Sherry; a few items imported, one the Holland hopjes; fruits and jellies by Raffetto. All is top-drawer merchandise.
Lime juice by L. Rose and Company, Ltd., of London, is made again after a wartime suspension. Remember the bottles with the entwined lime branches, the gold, yellow, and green label? Remember the refreshing flavor that the pale green juice imparted to summer drinks? And use it in recipes for jellied salads, in frozen desserts, in luscious cream pies, wherever lime juice is needed. But take it easy when you splash in the juice. This flavoring is the filtered juice of crushed tree-ripened fruit and is extra full-bodied.
The making of the product starts on the Island of Dominica in the British West Indies where the Rose firm has its lime groves which blossom and bear the year round. At the mill the fruit is crushed between granite rollers, and juice, pulp, and essential oil turned into wax-lined oak casks for shipment to England. At the London plant this is stored in 12,000-gallon oak tanks and allowed to rest until the pulp and essential oils rise to the top. Then the pure lime juice is drained off, filtered, bottled, and ready for distribution in the world's fine food shops.
The lime juice is available in New York at Joseph Victori and Company, 164 Pearl Street; the Gristede stores; B Altman and Company, Fifth Avenue and 34th Street; Charles and Company, 340 Madison Avenue; Hammacher Schlemmer, 145 East 57th Street; Vendome Table Delicacies, 415 Madison Avenue; Maison Glass, 15 East 47th Street; and in Brooklyn, at Ecklebe and Guyer, 1 DeKalb Avenue.
Aristocates of biscuitdom, those Verkade wafers here from Zaandam, Holland, packed to keep just next to forever—that is, until opened. Perfect for galleys on boats and pantries is cottages down by the sea. The study tin boxes are cussed things to open—but once you get there the cookies are as fresh as the day they came from the oven. The Maries are our favorites, a dry, crisp cookie about two inches across and baked to a sand-burr brown, not very sweet, ideal with tea. Pleasant in the mouth, powdering into dust with a warm toasty taste.
Pinterest
