Poultry, Rabbit, and Game

Once when “my auntie Mame” came suddenly to visit, I was called upon to fix lunch and there was nothing in the house to eat. I ran down to the local Arab corner store to buy one of those ubiquitous paprika-colored spit-roasted chickens turning in the window. Remembering Alice B. Toklas’s recipe for Giant Squab in Pyjamas, I split my fowl down the back, flattened it out and, just as she says, I threw a few nasturtium flowers around the dish. My guest was astounded and thrilled, the gesture earned me the reputation as a quick-change artist, and for years after she constantly put me in situations that called for the loaves and fishes act. (With a great deal of effort, I managed to avoid having to search out again that particular type of chicken.)