Date I
made this recipe: September 9, 2012
Ladies Who Lunch by Ann Reed and Marilyn Pfaltz
Published
by: Charles Scribner‘s Sons
© 1972
Recipe: Sour Cream Soufflé – p. 40
And then
there were two.
For 18
years, I was privileged to belong to a Ladies Lunch group of former co-workers
from a data processing company I worked for from 1985-1994. When I left, a bunch of us decided to meet
and greet once a month at various restaurants in the Twin Cities metro area and
the Ladies Who Lunch Bunch was off and running.
At first
there were six of us, but then three others dropped out leaving me and my
friends, Vicki and Arlene. Of the three,
I was the youngest although Vicki and I shared October as our birth month. Arlene, the oldest of the three, but perhaps
the youngest at heart, had just celebrated her 75th birthday in
June. It turns out that our last Ladies
Lunch in celebration of her birthday would be our last. Two weeks after that date, Arlene fell ill
and was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Although the prognosis was initially positive, things took a turn for the worse and she died weeks later on September 3rd. To say Vicki and I and other former co-workers were stunned would be an gross
understatement. Arlene was just one of
those people who seemed destined to outlive us all.
When Vicki
and I first went to see Arlene in the hospital, we were shocked. She was in pain, she was defeated, and we
tried our best to rally her. I was so
discombobulated by my visit that when I left the hospital, I missed my exit back
to my house. Seconds later, I turned
around but missed the exit again and then yet again until I finally gave up and took the
longest route home (the one without any more exits), arriving 45 minutes later completely exasperated. When I told that story to Arlene on my last
visit, she laughed.
On our
very last visit just a few weeks before she died, the difference in Arlene was astonishing. She was back to her old self, holding court,
laughing and telling stories. When we
worked together, Arlene was the Executive Secretary to our company’s CEO and
she also held a command post, and I do mean command post, at the front
reception desk. Nobody worked a
switchboard like her and when her always-manicured finger swept across the
switchboard, it was like watching an elegant ballet. For years and years, I teased her about that
hand motion and she laughed; during the last visit, she asked me to mimic her
so that some other visiting friends could see what she was like. I did so with the greatest pleasure.
I also
teased Arlene about the way in which she would track you down like a dog if you
didn’t answer an overhead page. If a
customer called in asking for me and I wasn’t at my desk, she
paged me. At first it was polite – “Ann
Verme, line 1. Ann Verme, line 1
please.” By the second time around, she
was a little bit firmer in her request and oh my god, if you didn’t pick up
after that, this is what you got: ANN. VERME.LINE.1.
ANN.VERME.LINE.1…PLEASE!!!!!” I
wouldn’t go so far as to say she was shouting, but you knew you had better haul
ass and get the phone, even if you were stuck in the restroom. The programmers, mostly male, used to joke
that they came flying out of the restroom with the toilet paper flying behind
them. This image continues to make me
laugh to this day.
The other
story that I told to the friends that were visiting Arlene on the last time I
saw her was also one of my favorites about her.
Arlene was told by our company president to keep an eye on the supply
cabinet and by god, she did. As the sole
holder of the cabinet key, she held a lot of power and I am not kidding when I
say that she often made you show her your old pencil before deciding you were
worthy of a new one: “There’s still a
little lead on that pencil,” she’d say or “You can still use that eraser, can’t
you?”
Even after
deciding you were indeed worthy of a new pencil, you received one and only one
brand new one. Don’t ever kid yourself
that in a wild moment she would give you two.
Several newcomers suffered from such delusions until we set them
straight.
The drill
when one was about to receive the new pencil/pen/what have you was always the same: Arlene would put the switchboard on “transfer
calls” and then would walk, slowly and stately, to the file cabinet, with the requestor walking behind at about five paces – kind of like the Duke of
Edinburgh does with the Queen of England.
Heads were also respectfully bowed.
And then she would open the cabinet a mere crack, just enough to get her
hand (never yours) in there and then would ask you again what you needed. And out came the one pencil and you bowed
appropriately and perhaps curtseyed and then she resumed her stately walk back
to the front desk. I tell you what she
could have substituted for the Queen as she was just that regal. (And I love
the Queen so…)
Well one
day, toward the end of my time at the company, Arlene was busier than a bee and
she didn’t have time to do the “perp” walk (I’m referring to all of us
underlings, never Arlene) and so she handed me the key. Oh.My.God. I got the key to the
cabinet!!! So I ran over to the
programming department and said “You guys, you guys. Arlene gave me the key!!!!” And just like rats deserting a sinking ship,
they fell in behind me and we ran with lightning speed to the cabinet. This time around, the doors fell open
automatically revealing quite the stash of supplies and let me just say that
for one, brief shinning moment I swear we saw a glow and heard the most
beautiful celestial sounds. It was just
like Christmas only better: “Look at all those notepads,” we chimed. “Look at the pens – holy cow!”
You might
think that with access to all those goodies we would have raided the
cabinet but you would be wrong. The one
thing one did not do at that company was to get on Arlene’s bad side, a side
she rarely displayed but you knew you were in deep doo-doo if she went
there. And so out of respect for the
woman and out of fear for our work lives, I took the one thing I needed from
the supply cabinet and with one last, longing look from me and from my
coworkers, I shut and locked the door and walked back, as Arlene-like as I
could to give her the key.
Now some
people might have walloped me over the head for retelling that story over and
over again but Arlene loved it. She was
the quintessential Executive Assistant—loyal to her boss and to the company,
gate-keeper (literally since our building was a secure building and she had to
buzz you in if you didn’t have a pass), better than an attorney at
keeping secrets and keeping her mouth shut, all-wise and all-knowing and above
all, professional. She would listen to
your tales of woe but in the end she would often say quite simply and without a
touch of snarkiness – “Well, if you don’t like your job here, perhaps you
should find another one.” Above all,
Arlene wanted our workplace to be a happy, harmonious one and those years that
we all worked at that company were just some of my favorites. When we experienced a corporate take-over by
a much larger company we grew bigger but experienced a lot of
growing pains. Our work family sort of
fell apart and eventually we started experiencing a ton of layoffs, layoffs
that Arlene knew about in advance but obviously couldn’t talk about. A few of the layoffs pained her greatly and
it wasn’t too long after I left that she decided to retire. And out of those "ashes," the Ladies Lunch was born!
Being free
from the confines of her Executive Assistant position didn’t automatically make
Arlene sing like a canary but over the years, she shared her thoughts and
insights with me and Vicki. She was
always so funny about how she did it, usually sweeping her gaze around the room
to make sure there weren’t any “enemies” afoot and then lowering her head to
deliver the dirt. She would often start
out lunch (really brunch-I cannot recall a time when we actually had lunch) by
asking (hilariously) “Who has had a sighting?” By "sighting," she meant “of a
former co-worker” and not UFO’s. Just so
we’re clear. Then she would regale us
with tales of work as well as family stories and friend stories that had me and
Vicki doubled over. She never thought
she was that funny but she was and we told her that a thousand times over. Vicki and I also told stories but somehow the
stories always sounded better coming from Arlene.
Out of all
the things that made Arlene unique, her thoughtfulness stood out as her number
one best quality. When she was invited
to a party at my house, she always brought a hostess gift and frequently sent a
thank-you note on note cards she made herself.
(She was also well-known for the fabulous jewelry she made after her
retirement and at her funeral service, there was hardly a woman in attendance
who wasn’t wearing a piece by Arlene.) When my parents died, she sent cards and
when I lost one of my best friends of almost 32 years to cancer in March, she
sent me a card for that as well. And
when Vicki and I took her out for her birthday lunch, she sent a thank you card
out despite having thanked us in person.
It goes without saying that I’m keeping that one.
Now I’ve
said before in this blog that I have a cookbook for about every occasion and
wouldn’t you know, I already had this book on my bookshelf – Ladies Who Lunch – and so the day after her service, I made this
wonderful Sour Cream Soufflé. If Arlene was alive, I know she probably would
have tried it at home, likely saying “Well this was just delicious and so easy,
too.”
And so my
dear Arlene, Vicki and I will soldier on with our lunches with the heaviest of
hearts as we miss you already, and this special recipe is a final homage to
you. I know you were watching when I
made it. And I will never see a supply
cabinet or a switchboard without thinking of you. I do so hope that there’s a huge switchboard
in the afterlife and that you are at the center of it all saying “God, line
one. God, line one please.” It’s only fitting.
Sour Cream Souffle – serves 6
1 ½ cups
sour cream
¾ cup
sifted flour
1 ¼ tsp
salt
¼ tsp
pepper
2 tbsp
chopped chives
½ cup
grated (nonprocessed) Gruyere cheese (Ann’s Note: I have no idea what nonprocessed cheese
means!)
5 eggs,
separated
Preheat
oven to 350. Thoroughly blend sour
cream, flour, salt and pepper. Stir in
chives and grated cheese. Beat egg yolks
until thick and stir into the cheese mixture.
Pour into a 2-qt soufflé dish.
Place dish in a shallow pan of hot water and bake about 30-40 minutes or
until puffed and set. Serve immediately.
Ann’s
Note: I roasted some small yellow
potatoes at the same time I baked this soufflé and tossed them in olive oil and
sea salt for extra flavor. I also served
the soufflé with asparagus to add a little green to the plate. Enjoy!
