Died A Hero

Once upon a time I had a local history class that I wanted to make a film for the Easton Film Festival. I had discovered the 1939 gravestone of Stanley Whiten with the inscription “Died a Hero” and the class became deeply involved in unraveling this mystery. This class happened so long ago that two members of the class have grown up and joined the staff at Oliver Ames. That’s only fitting because, as we discovered, our story involved four people who were deeply connected to our school.

All four were graduates of Oliver Ames. Three were involved in the tragedy while the fourth lived long enough to confirm many of the details of our research.  Stan Whiten was a 1926 graduate who, in an era when all students were awarded a superlative, won the title of “The Boy with the Biggest Scowl. His stated ambition was to work in a bank, and he planned to go to business school. His high school nickname was Buddha. During his school years he worked at the Brockton Public Market and was known as someone who always tried very hard. He told the yearbook that he hadn’t done anything for the class, but the editor added “but we know better.” He was on the Senior Class Basketball team and had a small role in the Senior play. His biggest accomplishment was winning typewriting certificates. The last paragraph of the class prophecy had Whiten as the secretary for Lena DeLaura when she became President of the Brockton Public Market. Miss DeLaura worked with Whiten, but found time for an active participation in the class including writing the prophecy.

Stan Whiten somehow got the job of writing the class poem. It’s three short stanzas ended with:

                        Classmates of ’26 soon we must part.

                        Go out on life’s pathway with a cheerful heart.

                        Fight if you must, your honor defend;

                        Be a conqueror in life, my classmate and friend.

Brother Paul graduated in the following year with the superlative “The Teachers’ Pet” although his biography notes that he “promises to be a future lawyer as he has shown his ability to argue. We refer you to Miss Dolan as she knows!” Dolan was the business teacher and Whitten had been in business classes and the Commercial Club. The class will notes that “To Paul Whitten, we leave the title of being “Mother’s Darling Baby Boy. “ Paul did no participate in any sports. Beside the Commercial Club, he was a member of the Drama Club and in his senior year the Moving Picture Committee. He must have really enjoyed movies as the class prophecy had him owning a theater in later life. Neither Whiten boy seems to have been very popular. They lived on Spooner or Wilbur Street, I forget which, in a house probably built by their father who was a carpenter.

There were no “flappers” in 1920s Easton, but Lorraine Dahlborg did have the bobbed hair that was so popular with the “flaming youth” of the day. Dahlborg lived with her parents at 24 Jenny Lind Street. She was an only child and greatly indulged by her doting parents. The petite Dahlborg won the superlative of “The Lightest Girl in the Class.” She was in the Drama and Commercial Clubs with Paul Whiten and won typing awards like Stanley. Unlike the boys Lorraine was “one of the class friends and has always taken an active part in anything the class attempted.” While she didn’t participate in sports she was an active member of the Athletic Association. She idealistically wrote a piece for the Eastoner in her Junior year urging  spectators at athletic events to cheer for the other team as well as our own!  She was a bright enough student to make the Credit List. All in all, she seemed a sweet young thing.

Following along a year behind was Anna Craig, the witness to our story. She was called “the brightest girl” in the Class of 1928, was active in the Drama Club, Debating Team, and Interclass Basketball team. She was Vice President of the class and Editor-in-Chief of the Eastoner. She graduated with high honors and won the superlative “The Most Ambitious Girl.” About the only thing she had in common with Lorraine Dahlborg was skinniness. Both girls were "willed" a book on how to get fat.

Paul, Lorraine, and Anna all went off to college and ultimately found their way back to Oliver Ames where they all were teachers in the fateful year of 1939. Stanley Whiten was also living in Easton. He hadn’t made it to a bank, but he was working steadily in the office at the Shovel Shop. The boy with the scowl had developed into what women called a “real man’s man” and both Whitens had gained a reputation for being “men about town” although Paul, at least, was a serious member of the Methodist Church on Mechanic Street. Unlike many women of the time Lorraine had a new car that according to her students she liked to drive fast down Main Street. All four were doing well in Depression era Easton.

“Died a Hero” with a date on the gravestone was enough for my students to unravel the mystery. They quickly found the information I shared above along with more detail about their teaching careers. Articles from the Enterprise revealed the rest.  The Whiten’s had a cottage at White Island Shores on the south end of White Island Pond in Wareham near the Plymouth line.  The pond was a large one with a complex shape like a figure eight with the top part of the eight bent to the right. Paul had a speed boat that had quite a reputation. According to neighbors he often ran the noisy boat at top speed creating waves and irritating folks sitting on their decks or swimming. On August 9, 1939 Lorraine and the two Whitens went to the cottage. According to the paper Lorraine was dating Paul. After a long day at the cottage and beach, Paul stayed behind while Lorraine and Stanley decided to take the speed boat out to cool down. When they were last seen Stanley was driving and Lorraine was sitting on the wooden decking that covered the bow. Hours passed and it got dark. Back in the cottage Paul didn’t react quickly assuming that engine trouble had forced the boat ashore in a distant part of the large pond. Finally a search was begun and the boat was found run aground near the sharp turn that led through the gap from the southern pond to the northern one. Hope faded slowly throughout the night. In the morning the bodies were found. Reconstructing the accident from the reports and the shape of the pond, the class believed that Lorraine had been thrown from the bow of the boat when Stanley sharply turned it to shoot the gap between the two parts of the figure eight. Lorraine couldn’t swim according to the Enterprise so Stanley jumped in to save her and was either pulled under by the petite but terrified Lorraine or was struck by the boat.

What we couldn’t understand was the inscription “Died a Hero” on the gravestone. It was pretty clear that Stanley had caused the accident by improper operation of the boat. Was there something in the way he died that wasn’t mentioned in the news reports? And why did Paul stay in the cottage while his girlfriend went off with his brother? We turned to Anna Craig, one of the last surviving teachers who were on the staff with Lorraine and Paul. Two students and I went to her home for an interview. It went well with talk of growing up in old time Easton and the school days of the four. Paul and Lorraine hadn’t dated in high school we learned and, in fact, they weren’t dating in 1939. Lorraine was with George, an odd couple-the sweet and petite girl and the boy with the scowl. “How did you know that,” we asked. “I was dating Paul,” came the reply. In fact, the tragedy caused a panic in the Craig household because Anna was off visiting friends when news arrived in Easton that Paul’s girlfriend had drowned. The relationship between Paul and Anna was typical of the time-he was a Methodist and she was a Catholic. They dated for quite a while, but she never brought him home to the family. Nor did she ever visit the cottage. Suddenly we felt like intruders in a time where we didn’t belong. We got the impression that Paul was someone very special to Anna, who never married, but we didn’t feel it appropriate to ask. She couldn’t shed any more light on the accident and told us that Paul enlisted in the navy after Pearl Harbor and moved to Nantucket after the war.  She left Easton in 1942 after failing to gain equal pay with male teachers and had a long career outside of Easton.

The Whiten house still stands today. The Dahlborg house was destroyed by the gas explosion that happened several years ago. The owners rebuilt the home in the original style and report that the ghost of Lorraine has continued to reside in the new home.

Discovr Music

I know only a small minority of the folks who read this blog actually have a Mac computer, but I have to share my latest discovery at the Mac app store. Yesterday for 99¢ I bought Discovr Music. It is the most amazing time waster for anyone who loves music. Enter the name of any of three million performers, composers, or bands and the program drops a circle on blank map with the bands name and a half a dozen groups that share a similar sound or style. Click on one of those circles and a few more circles may pop up. Some might link back to the original circle or begin to branch wildly away. Double click on a circle and you'll get a band biography, YouTube links, links to reviews, music stores, and blogs.

YouTube is a revelation for me since it's blocked at OA unless a teacher requests it. I've used YouTube to present some of the early films of the Lumiére brothers to my class, but haven't really explored it. I heard someone say on the news recently that for every second of real time ten minutes of video is uploaded to YouTube. With an add-on to my trusty Firefox browser I can download all that!

Anyway back to Discovr Music. When I typed in Ravi Shankar and continued to hit the related circles a tight ball of deeply interconnected artists developed with only daughter Anoushka shooting off to the side and connecting with the world of pop. A looser ball developed when I typed in a favorite fado singer, Ana Moura. By the way putting in an artist more than once doesn't always guarantee getting the same web. Finally I typed in Johnny Cash. If I liked him try daughter Rosanne Cash who was similar to Linda Ronstandt who has a link to Bonnie Raitt who sounds a little like Sheryl Crow who has things in common with Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac who has some songs that remind Discovr of Cyndi Lauper who sounds somewhat like Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta. Hard to believe there's a connection, however remote, between Stefani-you might know her better as Lady GaGa-and the Man in Black. Anyway I recently bought several of the songs on Tony Bennett's latest duets album. He and Ms. Germanotta do a high spirited version of The Lady is a Tramp. Hey, the girl can really sing. Anyway using Discovr I was able to find the music video of the song-just two artists having a good time in a studio, but well worth the download.

Thanks for your Patience

After many months of posting every day, I have had a long span where it has been difficult to post even once a week. That is about to change, but not right away. My extra work at Sheep Pasture, the Historical Society, the OA Hall of Fame and other places that has kept me away from the blog are scheduled to wind down somewhat next weekend. I'll have a posting on Halloween of a good true Easton historical tragedy, and maybe get in a few more postings late in the week. Thanks again for the kind words I have heard about the blog.

Lady Curzon Soup

Nothing to report on the Snit-Mitch front, but yesterday at lunch, a well traveled friend and his wife waxed poetic about something called Lady Curzon soup. "We had it in Berlin many years ago. It was a cream based soup, but we didn't know what was in it. It's called Lady Curzon soup and we can't get it here although we had it once in America and it didn't taste the same."

Plenty to go on there for Ed Hands, Recipe Detective. My crack assistant Mr. Google turned up the answer very quickly. Lady Curzon was born Mary Leiter in 1870 in Chicago, Illinois. Her dad was Levi Zeigler Leiter who was involved in building the Marshall Field empire and became a force in Chicago real estate. As you can see she was very pretty. She was also six feet tall, extremely bright, well educated, and fabulously rich. In 1894 she met George Nathaniel Curzon, a brilliant, driven and impoverished English Lord in the days when Lords still actively particpated in British government. Lord Curzon was one of those love him or hate him kind of guys, but Mary fell in love with this man who was 11 years her senior. They were married in 1895, and contrary what you may have read in the novels of Henry James about impoverished lords and rich American heiresses,  it was a real love match and Mary was a tremendous hit in British society. The couple quickly produced three daughters, but tragically Mary died from complications of a miscarriage in 1906 at age 36. She had invented her famous soup only the year before while her husband was viceroy of India. More about the Curzons with fabulous pictures from their houses and mansions and the famous Peacock Dress she wore in India for the coronation reception of King Edward VII can be found here at a blog that was only posted a few days ago. It also has comments about the soup of which more below. While in India Mary funded a woman's hospital in Bangalore, promoted the Indian textile industry particularly the waning art of embroidery, and spoke out for conservation of the increasingly rare Indian rhinoceros.

Regarding the soup, it is said that Mary saved the day at a dinner party hosted for a man who was a teetotaler. Everyone else at the party was a drinker, but to avoid irritating the honored guest Mary suggested adding sherry to the soup du jour. Given her status in society, the simple soup took off in popularity and became a staple in many European countries, especially Germany. Unfortunately for 21st century diners, the soup du jour was turtle soup. Unlike American turtle soup which is made from terrapins or snappers, this soup was made from now protected sea turtles. According to one website you can still get the original version in Germany, but I believe that even there substitutes are used today. Interestingly, since the soup was supposed to take the place of a drink in the first course, a special cup quickly became popular exclusively for this soup. The cup was a little bigger than a demitasse, but smaller than a tea cup. Here's something close to the original recipe:

                                              2 egg yolks
                                              1/3 cup heavy cream
                                              1/2 teaspoon (or more to taste) curry powder
                                              4 cups canned turtle soup, with sea turtle meat
                                              1/4 cup sherry
Garnish: 6 tablespoons of heavy cream lightly whipped
In a bowl, whip together the egg yolks, cream, and curry powder. In a large saucepan, bring the turtle soup to a boil, then gradually beat a cup of it into the egg yolk mixture, making a liaison. Remove the soup in the saucepan from the heat and finish the liaison by stirring in the egg mixture. Add the sherry, then reheat at a very low temperature until light and creamy (it will not thicken).

To serve, pour into hot cups and float a tablespoon of whipped cream in each one. Run the bowls under a hot broiler for just a few seconds to glaze the whipped cream, then serve immediately. Serves 6.

The writer of the blog cited above notes that it is common today to make the soup with mussels and that it makes a delicious if somewhat different soup. The writer also suggests substituting American turtle soup which is often available in supermarkets. However, the closest the writer has come to the original taste is to use "chicken stock with a splash of fish stock and blowfish tails." Here's that recipe:

                                              2 egg yolks
                                              1/3 cup heavy cream
                                              1 teaspoon (or more or less to taste) curry powder
                                              4 cups chicken stock (or 3 cups chicken stock and 1 cup fish stock)
                                              1/3 pound blowfish tails (or meat from 2 frog's legs or 1/3 pound sole
                                              or monkfish or 16 cooked mussels
                                              1/4 cup sherry
Garnish: 6 tablespoons of whipped heavy cream with a sprinkling of curry powder

Gently sauté the fish in a small amount of butter. If using mussels only heat them long enough to warm them. When the fish are done set them aside and keep them warm. Continue the recipe as above using the stock in place of the turtle soup. The fish or mussels are added to the bowls just before the garnish of whipped cream. Several pictures of the soup complete the wonderful blog entry.

Think I may try the version with mussels. Enjoy.

The Delmonico Secret

Robert Langdon, the hero of Dan Brown’s conspiracy theory books, is involved in another one. I’m listening to The Lost Symbol, a secret Masonic something or other lost in Washington, D. C. Brown has mentioned several times how all human knowledge, even the most arcane mythological symbolism, can be found on the Internet. Dan is wrong. The Internet can’t unravel THE DELMONICO SECRET.

I was sitting in my dark paneled library wearing my red smoking jacket with a dark purple cravat and black silk pants. OK, I was sitting in the recliner with my mangy flannel pajamas with my computer on my lap. Just trying to provide a little atmosphere. I was trying to find a menu from the 19^th century that featured a charlotte russe for dessert. I had already learned the Oxford English Dictionary placed the first use of the word charlotte for a dessert in 1797 with a charlotte russe first mentioned in 1843. I plugged in my external hard drive, the big with one terabyte of space, and went to my historic cookbook collection and narrowed my search to books in the collection after 1840. A menu from Delmonico’s popped up with a entry for charlotte siberienne. Some more research showed the menu came from the fall of 1863. My knowledge of mystic analogies (from the SATs) told me that siberienne is to russe as Siberia is to Russia.

The fleet was in, not now, but in 1863. Alexander II, Czar of Russia, had freed his country’s serfs in 1861 and had taken a shine to our Great Emancipator,Honest Old Abe and sent a fleet to NY to show his support for the North. This at a time when Britain and France were a mite peckish  with us. The reception ball was held at Delmonico’s in New York. A little research showed that for a charlotte siberienne, the confectioners at the restaurant laid aside the lady fingers of the charlotte russe and ripped the guts out of large cake which was then filled with Bavarian cream and gelatinized fruit before having the top of the cake restored, icing applied, and a few hours of chilling added.

This confection sat on the menu near the bottom in the dessert section just above the statues made from sugar of President Lincoln, General Washington, and the Czar

.

So far so good, the menu was in restaurant French, and I could fairly easily translate the luxurious buffet’s items. Until that is, the hors d’oeuvres. There it was with the two kinds of oysters and the quail canapés-Snit-mitch á la Russe. What to make of this?  Obviously, it was an hors d’oeuvre and since á la Russe implied there were other kinds of Snit-Mitch á la something else, it would seem be a fairly common dish.

To the Internet! I quickly discovered all the references in the Google search came back to this one menu. In August, 2005  someone named Maria asked “Anyone have any idea what Snit-Mitch could possibly be?” The questioner cited the Delmonico cookbook noting that the recipe was not included in the book. John Wexler of Edinburgh, Scotland replied. At this point, fans of the Da Vinci Code should be at full alert-Maria is the name of the Virgin and Edinburgh is located only 9 miles from Rosslyn Chapel with its associations with the Knights Templar and the Holy Grail. At any rate, this John Wexler responds:

This is entirely speculative, based on no evidence whatsoever, so those whose time is valuable are hereby warned to skip to the next message.

I used occasionally to meet a dish called "russian salad" which consisted of root vegetables, diced into quarter-inch cubes, parboiled, mixed up together with cooked green peas, dressed in a light mayonnaise, and served cold. It was quite tasty, and also had a curious non-culinary use in the days when railway carriages were divided into separate compartments.

Anyway - I wonder whether your dish might be a russian salad trying to make itself sound exotic by using a Foreign Name. "A la russe" is simple enough, and I would guess that Snit-Mitch was an attempt at "schnitt" and "misch" - something chopped up and mixed together.

Actually, if they included some hard-boiled egg, and had some caviare
close at hand, it was probably delicious.

Nice try Mr. Wexler, if that is your real name, but the very next course has a “Salades de volaille á la Russe  (Russian Chicken Salad) and the Snit-Mitch was in the horsey duvers course. And what the heck is a “curious non-culinary use” in divided railway cars?

I worry about the fate of Maria (and myself) because nothing else is heard about Snit-Mitch from 2005 to today. This, of course, has not dissuaded me from continuing to learn the secret. Further research has discovered that a Snit is a beer chaser served with a Bloody Mary in Minnesota, but while that sounds perfectly wonderful, it’s not very helpful.  Next, I thought snit-mitch might be Russian for sandwich, but the Russian word sounds more like “butchybrats.”  Could snit-mitch be an inside joke between one of the Russian visitors and Delmonico’s? Did a hungry admiral walk into the restaurant looking for a BLT and order a snit-mitch instead of a sandwich?

There is no help for it. I will have to spend time delving into the indexes of old cookbooks. The Snit-Mitch must be the ultimate culinary Holy Grail. Why else am I being followed by an albino dressed in white and wearing a toque?

Charlotte Russe

Charlotte Simmons is the title character in a Tom Wolfe story and Charlotte Russe is apparently a clothing story, but once upon a time Charlotte Russe was an elegant dessert.

A charlotte is a dessert where a mold is lined with sponge cake, cookies, or bread and then filled with fruit puree or custard and then topped with more cake. It is related to the trifle, but there the cake is layered with the custard or gelatinized fruit. Both trifles can be found in 17th century cookbooks, but the origin of the charlotte is more obscure with some deriving it from the Old English charlyt, a dish of custard, while others say the name comes from George III's Queen Charlotte. The great French chef Marie Antoine Carême alleged to have invented the charlotte russe, made from ladyfingers and custard, for his employer Czar Alexander I. Russe is French for Russian. Carême had worked for Napoleon, Talleyrand, and King George IV of England before agreeing to go to St. Petersburg to serve the Czar. It is said he spent so little time there before returning to Paris that he never prepared a meal for Alexander so the charlotte russe is the one outstanding monument to the great chef's Russian adventure. Perhaps a more important result of the trip is his replacement of the old "service á la française" where all dishes in a meal came out at once with the new "service á la russe" where the dishes were served in order as they are today. Of course, as with so much of food history, he is also called a diehard supporter of the old method of service!

A corrupted American version of this dessert was popular in big cities in the thirties and forties. There a square of sponge cake was topped with whipped cream and a maraschino cherries and sometimes chocolate jimmies (is it political correct to use jimmies or should I say sprinkles? ). It was served in a cardboard container that could be pushed up from the bottom as you ate it. Sounds perfectly awful to me, but it was very popular.

Below is a recipe from 1894 used at Delmonico's restaurant. Delmonico's was the most popular restaurant in New York during the Gilded Age so it is likely that an Easton Ames or two dined there.