BERTHA, IVY and ALICE
By Margaret Ross Lane
copyright 2016
Dedication:
For all those kids and neighbors who grew up on Whitlock Avenue
“I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate.” ― Julia Child
You know that house in your neighborhood that people wonder about? The neighborhood kids call it the "spooky" house. It needs a coat of paint. A few of the shutters might be hanging from the hinges. Part of the guttering might be bent or missing. The windows are dirty. The concrete sidewalk leading to the front door is cracked so no matter how many times you try and avoid breaking your mother's back, with a sidewalk like that, she's doomed.
On Whitlock Avenue in Crawfordsville, Indiana that house belonged to sisters Bertha, Ivy and Alice Seacrest. The big yellow house is ugly to begin with, but the cracked sidewalk, the askew shutters, the peeling paint and the dead elm tree in the front yard cinches the deal. It's the spooky house.
The sisters lived with the disrepair and broken bits for so long it was second nature. They stopped seeing the flaws. To them, it was just "home."
Ivy and Alice had long given up trying to get their neighbors to stop by for coffee, or for a mug of hot chocolate during the cold winter months. The neighbors wouldn't come.
Older sister Bertha did not care about visitors. She was perfectly content with the company of her sisters. They had orderly lives as well as an orderly flow of chores: Bertha bought the groceries, cooked and vacuumed. Ivy cleaned the downstairs including the parlor, bathroom, kitchen and mudroom. Alice cleaned upstairs; the bedrooms, the second bathroom and the library.
That arrangement had worked fairly well except for one thing. Trouble was, Ivy and Alice did not like their sister's cooking. They didn't like it last week or last month or last year. They didn't like it ten years ago when their parents had died and left them the house. And they certainly didn't like it now.
Bertha didn't use salt or pepper. She didn't use parsley or thyme or any of the other herbs Alice grew in the half wine barrels outside on the kitchen patio. Bertha's cooking was bland. But Bertha being the ramrod and rigid sister that she was, no one could dare suggest that she change her ways.
Here's an example: Bertha's chicken soup contained chicken and water. That's it. Can you believe it? Just chicken. Just water. Bertha brought the water on the stove to a simmer, threw in a chicken, covered the pot and let it cook. After an hour, it was dinner.
The morning after the latest such meal, Ivy said to Alice, “I'm going to add some things to the pot next time Bertha cooks that chicken.” Alice's eyes widened with trepidation, “No, Ivy! Please! Bertha won't like anyone messing with her cooking.”
But Ivy's resolve strengthened, “Listen up, Alice. We have eaten her bland meals almost, well almost, FOREVER. We need to speak up.” Truth was that Ivy was just a wee bit frightened of Bertha's sternness, so she coughed and told Alice, “And, well I'm not going to tell her, so I'm going to do it when she's not in the kitchen.”
------
Summer turned into a lovely Autumn day. You know the kind? Chill in the air, and although the smell of decaying leaves sounded gruesome, it was a familiar and comforting scent nonetheless.
Bertha had just put a cut-up chicken into the large stock pot and covered it was fresh water and turned the stove on medium high. As she put the lid on, she called out, "Alice? Ivvvvvvy? Will you both watch the chicken? I have to go the grocer's for some bread and a few other things. Won't be gone but a bit."
"Ok, will do. Byyyyyeeeeee." answered Ivy from the parlor.
When Alice and Ivy heard the front door shut, they hurried into the kitchen with a brown paper grocery bag. Two days before they had gone grocery shopping in anticipation of "doctoring up" Bertha's next chicken dinner. While Ivy unpacked the bag, Alice slipped out the back door into the herb garden and returned with bunches of parsley, rosemary, thyme, and basil.
Out of the bag Ivy pulled yellow onions, carrots, parsnips, small new potatoes, garlic, and black pepper. Ivy even splurged and bought the fancy Himalayan pink sea salt. She set to chopping, slicing and dicing. Alice cleaned and minced the herbs, adding them to a small bowl along with a generous amount of sea salt and black pepper.
Ivy and Alice added all the vegetables, herbs and seasonings to the big stockpot along with the chicken and water. As the stew cooked, the kitchen got warmer so Alice opened the backdoor to allow cool air in. With all that goodness added with the chicken a wonderful fragrance filled the kitchen and wafted out the door into the neighborhood.
"Look at this wonderful stew!" exclaimed Ivy, stirring the pot. "And it smells as good as it looks! Remember that book father used to read to us at bedtime? Stone Soup it was called-- the villagers would add a multitude of ingredients to a pot of water and make the most delicious soup. Remember? That's what we've done." Alice chirped in, "And we didn't even need a large stone to begin with!"
Bertha soon arrived home and exclaimed, "What are you two up to? I smelled something delightful when I was a block away. But I didn't dream such deliciousness would be coming from our house."
"Ivy and I just embellished your usual boiled chicken 'recipe', dear Sister," said Alice, smiling.
Just as Alice was setting bowls and silverware on the dining table, a voice from the back porch said, "Hello? Anyone home?" The voice belonged to Gus Erdu who lived across the street. "I was out raking leaves when this delectable scent drifted up my nose and I had to follow it. I was surprised when it lead me here!"
No sooner than Alice invited him in than other neighbors appeared in the doorway: There was Clara Sweeney who brought a bouquet of orange bittersweet in a Mason jar, Jane Showalter followed, with pecan pie in hand. Widower Reason Jamison and his two young sons arrived with a pitcher of apple cider. After leaving his leashed dog Elmer tied to the back railing, in sauntered old Mister Caldwell. Each hungry neighbor had followed his nose across the Seacrest's lawn into their kitchen.
A feast was made of the herbed chicken stew, vegetables, the bread Bertha brought form the store, the Jamison's cider, and the pecan pie brought by Ms. Showalter. At the end of the meal during the clean up, the sisters and their neighbors decided this would be the beginning of a Saturday afternoon ritual.
In exchange for the food, the neighbors took turns helping the Seacrests' nail loose shutters, repaint their house, secure loose guttering and trim the yew hedges. It wasn't long before the Seacrest home relinquished the "spooky house on the block" title.
Looking back, Ivy and Alice would occasionally tease their sister Bertha, "Just think Bertha, all this good neighborliness and friendship started with your bad cooking!"
Seacrest's Doctored-Up Chicken Stew
(Although Ivy and Alice just added everything to Bertha's pot of chicken and water, this is how they like to best prepare the dish)
Ingredients:
1 5-7 pound washed and cut-up chicken
3 quarts water
8-10 small new potatoes, quartered
4-6 carrots, thinly sliced
2 parsnips, thinly sliced
2 small yellow onions, small diced
2 cloves garlic, smashed and minced
1 cup chopped assorted fresh herbs. (Ivy & Alice used parsley, rosemary, thyme and basil, but you could also use sage, chives, dill leaves--any flavors you enjoy.)
1 tablespoon sea salt
1/2 tablespoon black pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
----
Season the chicken pieces with half of the salt and pepper. Heat the oil in the large skillet on medium -high. Add the chicken and brown o
n each side (about three minutes each side.) Remove the chicken from the skillet and set aside. (The chicken will not be cooked and will be added to the stockpot later.)
Now in the same skillet add all of the vegetables and garlic and the remaining salt and pepper. Stir and cook until the vegetables are halfway cooked. This will take about 5 to 7 minutes.
In the stockpot gently add the chicken. Add the vegetables and the herbs. Pour the water in and stir gently. Cover and turn the heat down to medium low. Cook for 45 minutes to an hour.
Test to see if done: Chicken juices run clear and a knife easily slides through a potato.
This stew will serve 6 to 8 people. Serve it with a crusty bread and a salad if desired.
About the Author
Margaret Ross Lane was born in Crawfordsville, Indiana and graduated from Ball State University with a Bachelor's degree in Political Science. She writes books for children and grown up children alike. She loves to read mysteries and Irish history, travel, write, study stones and gemology, and garden. She has a son, Liam, who inspired her to write. She lives in Kokomo, Indiana with her husband, Donald, and their cat Nesta Kiki Marie.
Connect with Margaret Ross Lane
Have questions? Email me at
[email protected] Follow me on Twitter at @MRossLane
Find me on Facebook at “Margaret Ross Lane”