Symphony

One of the blessings of having turned off my television is getting to listen to something a little different - the sounds of home. Surely, I must've heard these sounds before, but I guess I never really listened to them...

Like the snap of a clean towel when you're folding laundry. I love to give my towels and washcloths a sharp, precise shake before folding them, just to shake any last wrinkles out before they're folded and tucked away in the linen closet.

And the cheery sound of voices when I turn on my radio in the morning. I usually turn it on as I'm heading into the kitchen to get breakfast started. And whether the news is good or bad, the voices are welcome companionship after a long, quiet night with nothing but the air conditioner to interrupt the calm.

Like the tap-tap-tapping of an egg in a covered pan as it bubbles away for my breakfast. And the ticking of my Toastmaster, growing ever faster as the toast gets closer to the finish. Happy sounds indeed after a long snack-less night!

I love the sound of hissing steam as my iron heats up on Tuesday nights... It's a promising sound - one that betokens a closet soon replenished with smooth, neatly pressed garments.

On Thursday evenings, it's a "Whap! Whap! Whap!" outdoors on the landing when - after airing my bed covers and pillows for an hour - I give the pillows a good shake and smack them against each other a few times. Just to get the dust out. (Though it's handy, too, in working out any workaday frustrations.)

I'd forgotten what a satisfying task snapping string beans can be. And it makes another fantastic sound!

Mashed Potato Cakes
String Beans
Salad of Cottage Cheese Stuffed Prunes
Apple Brown Betty

It was all about comfort food for my vintage dinner last Sunday. Mashed Potato Cakes are a clever way to serve up leftovers. Add salt, pepper, and egg yolk to a dish of cold mashed potatoes. Form into patties, place a dab of margarine on top of each, and bake in a greased pan. Just long enough to brown the bottoms of the patties. The Cottage Cheese Stuffed Prunes made for a very rich salad - which would have been even richer if I'd laced it with French Dressing (as instructed by the recipe)! I've never eaten Apple Brown Betty before, so thought it might turn out something like an apple crisp. Not quite. Kind of like a soft apple crisp - without the crunch. Ruth Berolzheimer, the author of The American Woman's Cook Book (1945), must've been nuts about bread crumbs. They show up practically every week! I'm beginning to get suspicious now every time I see them. Hmmm... what kind of missing ingredient is she trying to cover up with bread crumbs this time?

Streamlining Housework

If you haven't noticed me grumbling about cleaning my kitchen lately, it's because I haven't been. (Grumbling, that is!) When I decided a few weeks ago to split up the big jobs into alternate weeks, it made all the difference in the world. Cleaning the kitchen still means a good solid two hours of work once a week, but the work just seems a lot more manageable than it did before.

And there isn't anything I really enjoy about this particular chore. When the job is done, though, my kitchen looks so nice. I catch myself doing a double take or two just to see how lovely it looks with a shiny sink, clean countertops, and a stovetop that positively gleams! If I can find something interesting on the radio, it always makes the work go faster, and I take a few breaks to drink some water and to put on some hand lotion. The good stuff. If I going to baby my hands at some point during the week, this is definitely the time to do so. Working with all that soap and water can be super drying to the skin.

Speaking of cleansers, soap and water aren't the only things at work in my kitchen these days. I use baking soda when cleaning the interior of the refrigerator/freezer and Comet to scour the sink. Cellulose sponges and dishtowels are my tools of choice, with an occasional Brillo Pad on a stubborn drip pan and - once in a great while - a paper towel. It's funny. On the rare occasions that I'd do any kind of cleaning in my kitchen in the past, I would never have set foot in there without a roll of paper towels and a canister of disinfectant wipes. I guess I was just afraid of having to put any kind of elbow grease to work. I thought chemicals could do the work for me. These days, I can go a month before having to change the roll of paper towels in my kitchen. And that's one of the small rolls! Paper towels get used now only for spot cleaning.

As I get accustomed to the mechanics of cleaning the kitchen, I catch myself finding little ways to make the work go faster. Here's my latest discovery: If I remove the drip pans before scrubbing the stovetop down (Is that what those metal trays under the burners are called?), then pop the lid and clean out underneath the stovetop, then wash the drip pans in the sink --- the stovetop and the area underneath it will be practically air-dried by the time I'm ready to reassemble the whole affair. That means my dishtowel will get less wet on that particular job and I can use it longer before having to replace it with another. I love finding little techniques like this to streamline the work!

Sadly, I don't think there's a soul among the women I talk with on a regular basis who could understand my excitement over something like this. Shoes? They could understand. A decorating idea for a dinner party? They'd get it. We just don't talk about housework in this day and age. It's that hidden thing that must be done, but isn't very fashionable to discuss. How are girls supposed to learn how to maintain a home if it's no longer cool even to mention the process? If our mothers hardly have enough time to keep house themselves - never mind teaching their daughters how to do it - and it isn't fashionable to discuss it with your girlfriends, how are we supposed to learn or better our craft? Housework's become the great unmentionable among women, and yet it's getting done is indispensible.

One of the other things that gives this little housekeeper a thrill these days are the ads for Parkay Margarine and Kraft Dinner that have been preserved along with episodes of The Great Gildersleeve from 1941 and 1942. The ads reference a rhythm to housework that must have been completely familiar to listeners of the era... Kraft Dinner - which we now call plain ol' macaroni and cheese - was billed as a fabulous option for dinner on Monday nights. A night when Mother must have been worn to the bone by the wash... As the announcer describes all the perks of using a product like Parkay Margarine, he mentions the baking that would have been done in a Christian household on Saturdays. (The program was aired lived on Sunday evenings):

I wonder how many of you housewives baked a cake or some cookies yesterday for your Sunday dinner today. A lot of you did, I’m sure, because there’s nothing like that real home-baked flavor. Well, here’s a hint for the next time you bake. For luscious, extra flavor in cookies, cakes, and pastries, use delicious Parkay margarine for the shortening...

My own 1945 menu for dinner this evening features a wartime meatless dish:

Peanut Roast
Pennsylvania Cabbage Salad with Sour Cream Dressing

The dessert, Apricot Whip, is made with raw egg whites, so - rather than play around with salmonella - I may substitute a Dried Apricot Cake. Is there any Parkay in the house?

A Dishwashing Dilemma

I've come up against a bit of a dishwashing dilemma this week... After leaving the breakfast dishes to soak, the authors of the housekeeping manual instruct me to:

Scrape dishes with rubber plate scraper or paper towelling.

Rinse dishes with hot water.

Stack dishes according to size and shape, on right-hand drainboard.

The book suggests that the housewife leave the dishes while she tidies the living room then sets about giving each of the rooms their daily cleaning. The kitchen comes last, and only then will she wash the breakfast dishes. That'd be well and good if I didn't have to work outside the home. Luckily, my dishwasher should be able to take some of the labor off my hands, but here's the dilemma: should I leave my scraped and rinsed dishes stacked up in the sink and pile them in the dishwasher only when the sink gets too full to add any more, or should I treat the dishwasher like it's my drainboard and stack the dishes in there each morning once they're scraped and rinsed?

My modus operandi while doing The Great Housekeeping Experiment has been to do all my other housework just as I've always done it - hit or miss - a little here, a little there. I've been known to use my dishwasher as a cupboard, just taking the clean dishes out when I needed to use them again. (I know, it's been complete chaos here in the Jitterbug household!) That doesn't often leave my dishwasher free and ready for more dirty dishes. On the other hand, my sink can only hold so many dirty breakfast dishes. So I've hit a wall here. The Experiment is going to impact my evenings now as well as my mornings. I guess it had to happen sooner or later. I'm going to have to start making sure the dishwasher is ready for more dirty dishes before I go to bed at night.

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

I don't own any rubber plate scrapers, but I do have a couple of rubber spatulas that do the job. They aren't quite the same tool. The scraper was shaped a little more like the spatula you might use today to lift your cookies off a cookie sheet. It was a sturdy piece of rubber affixed with metal to a wooden handle. At one point, they were also available in molded rubber. Our modern synthetic rubber - and now silicone - spatulas are much more flexible. We can use them to clean out bowls and the insides of jars, while plate scrapers were designed for flat surfaces.

Paper towelling was sold in much smaller rolls than we buy today! I guess you'd have used it as sparingly as possible.

Two drainboards are better than one, so that soiled dishes may be stacked at the worker's right and the dish drainer at her left.

A steel sink with a drainboard on both sides was the latest and greatest in 1940s kitchen design. My sink hasn't a drainboard on either side, so that's why I think it'll be helpful to think of my dishwasher as a substitute. Where better to let the rinsed dishes dry while they await washing? The kitchen in my parents' house hasn't been renovated since the '50s and its still got two drainboards, both of them tilted ever so slightly toward the sink. Alas, my little unit here in Apartment Land wasn't built until the '80s - when people thought we would never again need to wash another dish in the sink. Drainboards weren't even a consideration. Well, that's okay. I'm sure there were many housewives back in the day who had to make do without all the drainboards or counter space they might have liked in their kitchens. Women working in older kitchens with cast iron sinks would have had to rig up drainboards that were quite literally boards.

Whoops, gotta run... I've got a dishwasher that needs emptying!