Rhoda, Mary + Veal Prince Orloff

I’ve been stricken by a bad case of TV nostalgia lately. But just when I thought I had kicked it, actress Valerie Harper, who I adored worshipped as Rhoda Morgenstern in the 1970s’ sitcom, “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” announced this week she has terminal brain cancer and has three months to live.

Now, I don’t make a habit of getting caught up in celebrity drama, but Harper’s People mag cover story was a real kick in the pants. You see, back in the 70s, I aspired to be beloved WGN producer Mary Richards and live in that sassy studio apartment on 119 North Wetherly with its huge closet and invisible bathroom. What little girl didn’t?

Instead, I grew up to be Rhoda, the dumpy, funny sidekick who lived in the attic and rocked a mean headscarf. At least she was more fun than Mary. 

rhoda and mary

In fact, over the course of my career, I adopted one of Rhoda’s classic lines: “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m another person in the room.” Sadly, I had to use it too many times, mostly on men who reminded me of WGN anchor doofus Ted Baxter. There was also an editor back in the day, but that’s another story…

But what rekindled my “MTM” nostalgia was news that “119 North Wetherly,” the 1900 Victorian in Minneapolis pictured in the show as Mary’s home (owned by Phyllis and the invisible dermatologist Lars), was on the market for $2.8 million. Talk about an expensive piece of TV memorabilia!

Apparently, the 7-bedroom, 9-bath home has been totally restored and, according to reports, is still a city tourist attraction. I’m kicking myself now for not making time for a drive-by in my rented electric blue PT Cruiser when I was there reporting on the Republican National Convention a few years ago. But it was August and Mary’s house wouldn’t look the same to me without all the snow…house

One of my favorite Love is All Around episodes – and there are many from the nine seasons – is “The Dinner Party.” You must remember this 1973 classic: Mary invites Congresswoman Margaret Geddes to dinner and has “The Happy Homemaker” Sue Ann Nivens make Veal Prince Orloff for exactly six guests. 

Hilarity ensues when Rhoda brings a date (Henry Winkler!) and Mary’s boss, Mr. Grant, helps himself to three portions of veal and then returns two portions to the platter.

Life lessons learned: Always make more than enough food, have a dining table with leaves and extra chairs, and NEVER bring an uninvited guest because they may end up eating alone at the little table by the window.

Veal Prince OrloffFrankly, Veal Prince Orloff – braised veal, stuffed with mushrooms and onions, topped off with a béchamel sauce and cheese – is not in my kitchen repertoire. Sorry, Sue Ann.

But if you’d like to see Julia Child whip up her Veal Prince Orloff, here’s a link to “The French Chef” episode: http://www.amazon.com/The-French-Chef-Prince-Orloff/dp/B00622BSXI.

Confessions of a Kitchen Gadget Hoarder

Don’t even think of throwing anything away until I see it,” I barked at my husband as we spent yet another day of our long-awaited, much-deserved vacation packing up our circa 1990 blue Formica-topped kitchen that will, by the grace of God, be gutted next week.

“But you’re throwing away all my stuff,” he whined.

“After 24 years of marriage, it is time to let the ‘bachelor crap’ go,” I said, stuffing his ancient dime store warped wire whisk into a garbage bag.

If only I could practice what I preach…

My batterie de cuisine is, in a word, vast. Besides the pots, knives and electronics that get near-constant use, there are the spaetzle maker, silicone Financier and brioche molds, three sizes of springform pans and a Tomato Shark.

Tomato Shark, you say? Yup. I’ve got that.

I have no idea where I procured this thingie. And I don’t think I’ve ever used it since coring out tomatoes can be done easily with a sharp paring knife. But did I toss it? Nope. At least I know that if all of my dozen paring knives go missing when I’m making a fresh tomato sauce, the Shark will be ready to, well, chomp.

Ditto for what the Brits call “the stoner.” I bought this other little gadget in a London kitchen shop 20 years ago. Except when I make tapanade — which is rare — the Stoner wastes away in the drawer. It also works quite well, if memory serves, on cherries.

Also in the coring family are the various apple corers, two which are shown in the photo below. Again, if you’re making apple pie or apple sauce, the knife works just as well, and it is mighty quick depending on your skill. The larger — two part — corer was bought at the Broadway Panhandler 10 years ago for a baked stuffed apple recipe which I made…twice.

The Microplane grater, which is always at hand, is so versatile, I don’t need another grater or zester in the house. But when has that stopped me? There’s also a gadget that makes curly-q lemon strips. A total keeper. We eat with our eyes, you know.

As a frequent student at King Arthur Flour’s Baking Education Center, I have probably a dozen dough scrapers, two of which get constant use. Then there’s the petite one from E. Dehillerin, that famous Paris kitchen shop made famous by Julia Child. I spent three hours perusing the cluttered shelves there during a day trip into Paris 10 years ago. (Yes, I have an indulgent hubby. And it was my 40th birthday trip.) Do I use it? Not a chance. First of all, it’s too small and I don’t want the writing to wear off. File it under “sentimental.”

And speaking of sentimental, there’s a little blue enamel strainer that belonged to my husband’s grandmother. I actually use it (!) in conjunction with one of the two lemon reamers to strain out the pits for lemon juice. Ada Boynton probably used it for tea.

So, did I toss out any gadgets, you ask? Why, yes I did. Say goodbye to the Pot Minder. This little disk of ceramic pottery is placed into a pot and will prevent it from boiling over. Puh-leeze. It was a stocking gift from a thoughtful Santa. Please don’t tell him…

As for the remainder of the gadget drawer, I need everything that’s in there. But don’t call in the cameras from “Hoarders.” Mind you, I did toss out the Pot Minder. — Laura Raposa

This post originally appeared in the Boston Herald’s Fork Lift blog, Aug. 17, 2011.

Need Some Julia Inspiration in Your Kitchen?

As a Julia Child groupie, my kitchen as always had a small pic of the “French Chef” hanging around for a little inspiration and guidance.

In fact, when I went to compete in the second season of “Master Chef” last January, I brought a couple of Julia instructional DVDs to gin me up in the wee hours of the morning when the thought of cooking for Gordon Ramsay had me staring at the ceiling all night. Now, I just dream about trussing that cantankerous chef like one of the French Chef’schickens,image but I digress…

Fast forward to this month as I count down the days to the start of my kitchen renovation. While all the cabinetry and appliances are on order, I’ve taken to surfing the web for old black ‘n’ white photos of restaurants, bakeries and, of course, Julia, to hang in the new spot. There’s a lot out there (for a price) but one site I feel the need to share is www.i-concepts.org which has many reproductions of the famous Julia photos taken by her hubby, Paul.

The copyrighted photos are from a collection donated to the Radcliffe Institute’s Schlesinger Library at Harvard, and for a mere $25 you can own an 11×14 snap of Julia cooking on her little Paris stove circa 1950 or ze French Chef on her set at WGBH in 1970. Very cool stuff.

Naturally, I wanted them all, but settled for three, including the aforementioned Paris kitchen scene. Now, will these framed photos provide the same inspiration as that little Julia pic I have had on the wall all these years? I dunno. But they’ll sure look damn good! Bon Appetit! — Laura Raposa

This post was original printed on the Boston Herald’s Fork Lift blog in 2011.

Banana Joe Dines at Sardi’s

I’m all about the food, as you know. So imagine my surprise to learn today that there is a culinary tradition for the Westminster Kennel Club’s Best in Show winner to eat his first lunch served on a silver platter at Sardi’s!

And so this afternoon, a little Affenpinscher named Banana Joe, like many a prized pooch before him, chowed on tiny pieces of filet mignon hand fed to him by his trainer, Ernesto Lara, at the famous theatre district celebrity haunt.

Apparently the tradition came under fire last year when the Sardi’s tradition ran afoul of the New York City Health Code. So the restaurant agreed to abolish the longstanding Best in Show dog eating in the dining room policy and apply for a one-day waiver to allow the canine guest safe passage into Sardi’s.

Frankly, I don’t understand this doggie dining derring-do. I’m sure Joey’s table manners are far superior to some of Sardi’s regulars!image

Prized pooch Banana Joe dines on filet mignon at Sardi’s today. (AP Photo)

The Dowager Countess of Grantham had more than a few memorable lines on last night’s episode of “Downton Abbey.” However, none was better for me than “It seems a pity to miss such a good pudding.”

First of all, it’s never acceptable to skip out on dessert. And that Charlotte Russe — a popular Parisian confection created by chef Marie Antoine Carême with ladyfingers, Bavarian cream, fruit and brandy — did look quite yummy. (Thanks to Mrs. Patmore.)

But more importantly, it was the Dowager’s posh way of giving the Ladyfinger to her son, the doofus Downton lord, after he demanded the ladies flee Isobel’s luncheon party because the meal was prepared by Ethel, the ex-prostitute.

Well said, Lady Grantham. Now, dish me up a big slice…

If you’d like to make a Charlotte Russe, there was a recipe posted today at DowntonAbbeyCooks.com. Happy Pudding!

This is Laura’s Cafe, a restaurant in Westport Point, MA, that was washed away by Hurricane Carol in 1954. It landed, I’m told, somewhere on Drift Road.

One of my “second career” fantasies is to bring back this fine establishment. Well, actually, my cousin, Buzzy, told me it wasn’t that, um, fine considering it was located down by the docks!

Anytime is a good for a little Julia!

What fresh hell is this? Is it, at least, organic? Locally made?

Apologies to literary lioness Dorothy Parker