Pennsylvania-Dutch - Too Many Crooks Spoil The Broth Part 3

"Actually, we have no need for cards, because all the seating is done by me, your hostess."

Linda stood up, but Jeanette remained rooted to Susannah's chair. Perhaps literally so. She was, after all, wearing a homespun cotton pajama outfit that was dyed a very pale shade of green. Had it not been for her flaming orange hair, she would have looked for all the world like a giant rutabaga. Of course most rutabagas don't talk.

"Ms. Yoder," said this rutabaga, "I just about broke my neck coming down those impossibly steep stairs of yours, not to mention that I pinched a nerve in my lower vertebrae trying to nap on that hideous thing you call a mattress. The fact that I can sit at all is something of a miracle. Is it really so necessary that I move, now that I've finally gotten comfortable?"

Yes," I said and turned to greet Joel Teitlebaum and Billy Dee Grizzle, who had appeared at the door. I may never be a mother, but twenty-two years of teaching Sunday School at Beech Grove Mennonite Church have taught me how to deal with children.

"Evening, ma'am," said Billy Dee cordially. He had changed from a plaid to a plain denim shirt, which was the perfect foil for the rather attractive bola tie he was wearing.

"Good evening," I said just as pleasantly, and then for his ears only I whispered, "Don't worry. The reporter doesn't take meals with us."

Billy Dee nodded, and I turned my attention to Joel Teitlebaum.

If possible, Joel Teitlebaum was looking even taller and skinnier than he had before. He was wearing corduroy slacks, a striped shirt, and a narrow striped tie, which undoubtedly accounted for it. And although it might have been just my imagination, it seemed to me that his color had improved. Milking must have agreed with him.

"How did you like milking?" I asked. Frankly, I found it strange that someone who didn't drink milk on principle would be interested in such an activity.

Joel's color improved even more when he blushed. "Actually, I didn't go milking after all. I decided to nap instead. But Mose, I mean Mr. Hostetler, said he'd let me help him tomorrow."

"I see," I said. Actually I didn't. Not only was there far too much napping going on, but an hour of Mose's time was now unaccounted for. Unless he'd been napping as well. Either way, it was best Freni not find out about it.

I seated Joel to the left of Linda, who had scooted up one chair to make room for Jeanette. They were, after all, roughly the same age, and undoubtedly knew each other, since they were both conspirators for A.P.E.S.

Billy Dee, however, posed a problem. If I put him down on the far end, on the other side of Susannah, my sister would just make a fool of herself. I couldn't very well move him next to Lydia and have him come between her and her husband, could I? So I took the only option I had left and put him on my immediate right, next to Joel. My intentions were entirely pure, I a.s.sure you.

Fortunately we didn't have to wait much longer for Congressman Ream and Delbert James. But no sooner did they step into the room than both men appeared to do a double take. It was as if they had accidentally entered the wrong room and were fl.u.s.tered at their mistake.

"This is the right place," I a.s.sured them with a laugh. Unfortunately my laughs can sound pretty phony when I'm irritated. Or so says Susannah.

Delbert at least displayed the good manners to apologize for his tardiness. I graciously accepted his apology and seated him down by Susannah, opposite Jeanette. It would be interesting to see if the two of them made a pitch for the man. Although his type didn't appeal to me personally, he was certainly a dapper man, pale pink dress shirt notwithstanding.

As for Congressman Ream, of course I seated him next to his wife, to the right of Delbert James. Like his wife, he had dressed formally for dinner. Although he did cut a handsome figure in his dinner jacket and bow tie, he was not nearly as impressive as his wife. Then again, one is never quite dressed without good manners, I always say.

Even I was about to give up on Susannah when she came swirling into the room. I might have known. My baby sister must have caught a glimpse of the elegant Mrs. Ream and decided to outdo her. Not that she could, of course. To my knowledge Susannah does not own any ball gowns, much less expensive jewelry. She does, however, possess a first-cla.s.s imagination.

If Mama could have foreseen Susannah's outfit, she would have put off dying for another twenty years. "Outfit" is the only word I can use to describe what my sister was wearing. It was definitely neither a dress nor a pants suit. It was definitely hot pink, and sheer enough to strain soup through. It was both billowing and confining. Parts of it trailed behind her like streamers in the wind, yet in a few critical areas there didn't seem to be enough of it at all. And as if that weren't enough, Susannah had accessorized her creation with five pounds of cheap gla.s.s jewelry and a pound or two of makeup. Had I not smelled the cheap scent of her perfume, I would not have known at first who it was.

"You're late," I whispered as she flowed by.

Susannah didn't even glance my way. She was far too busy noticing that Billy Dee was not seated down at her end of the table. This made her scowl, until she noticed Delbert James. With a great flutter of fabric, Susannah settled herself in the chair vacated by Jeanette.

I rang the little bra.s.s bell in front of my place. Up until then there was no food on the table except pickled eggs and beets, and the dill seed bread. Of course I am not counting such items as b.u.t.ter and apple b.u.t.ter, which some of us consider a fruit. Or the four large pitchers of fresh-from-the-barn milk. At any rate, it didn't take long for Freni and Mose to appear, each bearing a steaming tureen. I directed Mose to put his down at Susannah's end of the table, and Freni at mine. Then they both stepped back a few paces, as if awaiting orders.

I peeked into the nearest tureen and smiled happily. At last Freni had listened to reason and followed my latest instructions. "The tureen in front of me contains traditional Amish chicken and dumplings," I announced proudly. "And of course some vegetables," I added pointedly. Everyone appeared to be listening intently. "For those of you with special dietary needs," I went on, "Mrs. Hostetler has prepared a meatless version, there in the other tureen."

A glance at Freni told me that she was pleased I had acknowledged her effort.

"Does the meatless version contain dairy products?" asked Jeanette, without even so much as lifting the lid and appreciating the wonderful aroma of Freni's cooking.

"Or eggs?" inquired the soft-voiced Linda. From the corner of my eye I could see Freni frowning.

Well, does it?" demanded Jeanette.

Congressman Ream didn't even seem to notice there was a conversation going on. When do we get to see the wine list?" he asked.

Susannah giggled and I scowled. Both at her and the Congressman. "This establishment does not serve alcohol. That was made quite clear in the brochure," I reminded him.

Garrett Ream looked first at his aide, then his wife for confirmation. Both of them were nodding. "h.e.l.luva way to start off the hunting season," he muttered.

I did my best to transform my scowl into a glare. "Neither does this establishment tolerate bad language."

Susannah giggled again, and whispered something to Delbert.

Well, are there eggs and dairy products in that concoction, or not?" Jeanette was not nearly as distractable as I had hoped.

"Mrs. Hostetler uses only fresh, organic ingredients in all of her cooking," I stalled. It wasn't much of a stall.

"Yes or no?" demanded Jeanette. She was standing up now, the purple red of her face clashing with the orange of her hair.

"No," I said quickly. "Of course not." Undoubtedly my own face was as red as Jeanette's. I could just feel the shame. I am not used to lying, and it actually hurts each time I have to do it.

Jeanette opened the tureen then and studied its contents. "You know, Ms. Yoder, I am not trying to be purposefully difficult here. I only ask these questions because I have to. It's been twelve years since I've eaten any eggs or dairy products, and in that time I've developed an allergic reaction to them."

I swallowed hard and stole another glance at Freni. Freni wasn't flinching.

"If you haven't eaten eggs or dairy products in twelve years, then how the h.e.l.l sorry, Ms. Yoder can you tell you've developed an allergic reaction to them?" growled the Congressman.

His wife, bless her soul, immediately opened the tureen in front of her and made a great show of smelling the steam that rose from the huge container. "It smells absolutely delish. I simply must get your recipe."

I smiled gratefully, and for the next few minutes busied myself serving out portions from the pot containing chicken to the carnivores gathered around the table. Susannah, a card-carrying carnivore herself, obediently did her part by serving the herbivores from the tureen in front of her. At last we all dug in.

"First-cla.s.s cooking, ma'am," said Billy Dee, while his mouth was still full. There were murmurs of agreement from the carnivores, and none of the herbivores so much as gagged or spit their food out. Freni smiled broadly.

"I think my grandmother was Pennsylvania Dutch," volunteered Delbert James proudly.

Susannah recoiled in mock horror. "Your secret's safe with us." There were the usual obliging laughs.

"Did I hear you say you were a hunter, sir?" Joel Teitlebaum politely asked the Congressman.

Garrett Ream put down his fork and studied the young man across from him. "Yes, I am. Congressman Garrett Ream."

"Joel Teitlebaum, sir. From Philly. Not exactly in your district."

"Are you a hunter, Mr. Teitlebaum?"

"I'm a sculptor, sir. I "And you?" asked Garrett Ream, turning to Billy Dee.

"Billy Dee Grizzle. I'm a contractor."

Garrett Ream nodded impatiently "Do you hunt?"

"Used to," said Billy Dee. "Squirrel, pheasant, deer you name it."

"I see," said the Congressman sarcastically. "What we have here is a reformed hunter then?"

Billy had just taken a big bite, so he merely nodded. "Ever shoot boar?"

Billy answered with his mouth full. "Yep. Lots of boar punting in Texas."

"What part of Texas?" I asked. Cousin Anna Kauffman married a Methodist and moved to Houston in 1974. I hadn't heard from her since.

"San Antone," said Billy Dee proudly. He turned back to the Congressman. "I've given up hunting now. But boar hunting was my favorite. More exciting than hunting deer."

"At least the boar stand a small chance," said Jeanette. "Deer are just sitting ducks." A couple of people laughed at her inadvertent joke, and I am ashamed to say I was among them.

"They don't stand much of a chance in Morocco," said the Congressman. "There they have beaters that drive them down out of the mountains, while the hunters wait in blinds to pick them off."

"We were lucky enough to be included in a royal hunting party once," explained Lydia, "by King Ha.s.san of Morocco. The Atlas Mountains are exquisite in April."

"We killed over four hundred that day," said the Congressman proudly. "Stacked them up like a cord of firewood. Of course there were about fifty of us, including His Majesty. Best experience of my life."

"It sounds utterly disgusting," said Jeanette. "I can't believe you're actually proud of such a barbaric act.

"What is a boar, anyway?" asked Linda.

"A sort of wild pig," answered Delbert James. "With tusks."

"Were you in the hunt too?" asked Susannah.

"Not exactly. The hunt was just for Congressmen and their wives. But I got to do some pretty special skiing that morning up on the higher slopes. Morocco has some first-rate runs."

"I ski," said Susannah. "Up at Seven Springs." That was news to me.

"I'd love to travel," I couldn't help saying. Not that anybody heard me. As soon as I opened my mouth, Jeanette opened hers and began to sputter. "There is chicken fat in this broth!"

I turned around to look at Freni, but both she and Mose had disappeared. "There couldn't be," I said, then, "Are you sure?"

"There are globlets of fat glistening on my plate. What would you call that?" demanded Jeanette.

"Gross," shuddered Linda. Just then Shnook.u.ms, who had been hidden somewhere within Susannah's billowing costume, began to yip pitifully. Of course n.o.body else there, with the exception of Billy Dee, had the slightest clue what was going on.

"You may be excused," I said sharply to Susannah. "A little bicarbonate, and you should be as good as new by tomorrow."

My glare must have been as withering as I had intended it to be, because Susannah got up and left without another word.

Well?" Jeanette persisted. "Pa.s.s me the tureen," I said as calmly as I could. When it arrived, I examined and sampled its contents as objectively as I could. Frankly, the supposedly meatless dish was less tasty than the one that I knew contained chicken, This confirmed my belief that there was indeed a difference between the two dishes. On the other hand, there definitely were little golden bubbles of something floating in the broth and clinging to the dumplings and stewed vegetables.

Well?" demanded Jeanette.

"I think I'm going to be sick," said Joel. His face had taken on the same rutabaga green as Jeanette's clothes.

"It's probably just corn oil," said Lydia soothingly. "Even Julia cooks with corn oil."

I beamed at her. I didn't know who Julia was, and I was sure Lydia had never seen the inside of a kitchen herself, but I was grateful for her help. Encouraged, I rang the little bra.s.s bell again.

Freni misunderstood and when she reappeared she was carrying an apple pie in each hand. I quickly took the pies from her. "Freni," I kept my voice low, "didn't you follow my instructions?"

Freni looked as if I had slapped her. "You told me to serve one with meat, and one without meat in it, Magdalena, and that's exactly what you got."

"There, you see!" I said triumphantly, turning to the others, who had undoubtedly heard our conversation anyway. "That tureen is entirely vegetarian."

"Tastes good, too," said Billy Dee, who had helped himself to a sample dumpling. "Mighty fine cooking."

Freni beamed. "This vegetarian cooking isn't so hard after all," she confessed. "Just cook like regular, and then rinse off the stuff that you want to be vegetarian."

Joel immediately covered his mouth with his napkin and fled from the room.

Jeanette Parker uprooted herself from her chair and stood. I hadn't realized how tall she was. From where I sat she seemed to tower over the table like a pale green monolith. "This is a breach of contract, Ms. Yoder," she shouted. 'When word gets out and it will of your duplicity in this matter, you can kiss your cozy little inn good-bye. And you," she said, pointing a long and heavily ringed finger at Freni, "are a menace and disgrace to your profession. What were you trying to do, kill me with animal toxins?" She pushed her chair roughly aside and strode from the room.

"She didn't really mean that," said Linda softly, and scurried after her mentor.

"Don't worry, Miss Yoder," said Lydia Ream kindly. "You are under no obligation to meet the dietary needs of your guests. Just to supply them with ample food. Isn't that right?" She turned to the two men on her side of the table for confirmation.

"Yes, dear," said the Congressman, but it was obvious he didn't want to get involved.

"Mrs. Ream is absolutely right," said Delbert James a little more kindly.

That made me feel a bit better, but still I was fit to be tied. I had to take out my frustration on someone. "Freni," I said through clenched teeth, "you're fired." Then quickly I recanted, lest Freni take me seriously. There were just too many guests to go it on my own.

But it was too late. "I quit anyway," she snapped, before stomping from the room.

Now before you get too upset, I have to mention that Freni had already been fired more than once, and in fact she quits on the average of once every other week. Still, if I had been slower to anger that last day before deer-hunting season, there might not have been a corpse clutching Mama's dresden plate quilt. Then again, there might well have been anyway.

5.

FRENI HOSTETLER'S CHICKEN AND DUMPLING RECIPE Serves 8 2 chickens (year-old hens preferred) 1 teaspoons salt Dash black pepper 6 medium-size potatoes (quartered) 3 large carrots (sliced) 1 large onion (chopped) 4 tablespoons chopped parsley 3 cups flour 1 teaspoon salt

3 teaspoons baking powder