HOW THEY DO IT

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 283, 29 November 1941, Page 12

HOW THEY DO IT

Englishwomen Overcome

Food Difficulties

"How to manage" is a problem which English housewives seem to be overcoming in the same cheerful, uncomplaining way they have taken the bigger trials of the blitz. In a letter to her sister in Auckland an Englishwoman living in Devonshire describes how she plans the meals for her family of four. "I make a pie (on a deep plate) of Jib kidney, potatoes, a slice of tomato, a bit of turnip and a couple of sausages. Put a crust under and over it. That is one day's dinner, with mashed potatoes and cabbage. "On Sunday we get a joint of usually 21b which lasts three davs. One day we have fish, one day bacon and fried potatoes and'one day soup. And there you are! We have nothing to complain of.

I "We have had plenty of tomatoes, and we shall miss them. Eggs, of course, we can't get—only three each during a month. That means a dozen eggs a month for four of us when I used to have two dozen a week! "Still, as I say, we live well, and there is no evidence of any shortage of food. I study food values quite a bit. and we get a lot of nourishment out of ordinary things. Plenty !of raw carrots, scraped over food and plenty of milk. "We have done a lot of blackberrying and have made some jelly for the baby, so that when there areno oranges and no tomatoes we can make him fruit juice by adding warm water to the jelly." Shortage Of Domestic Goods Saying that they have no wireless because there are no batteries, the writer mentions some of the domestic goods which are impossible to replace. She says: "We have no wireless because there are no batteries. There aren't even any pan scrubbers or pot scrapers. "No wicks for oil stoves." (Evacuated to the country, this family is forced to manage with an oil stove.* "When my bit of wick finally wears down I shall certainly be in the soup. There are heaps of things of that kind that we can't get. But we manage somehow." A reference made in the letter to photographic films will arouse sympathy among Auckland camera lovers who are finding it difficult to get films. The writer says: "I will try and send a snap of the baby on his first birthday, but we are onlv allowed two snaps out of any lot taken. So I don't know when I shall manage it." In spite of all, however, the letter ends with what might now be called Britain's theme song—the phrases that might be written on the hearts of everyone at Home when they die:. "We can only die once, and to die will be better than giving in. We take our walks knowing that anything may happen any minute. But there isn't a trace of that feeling to be seen anywhere. "You never hear anyone, even the most terribly blitzed, say anything but: ' Hitler will never break our spirit!' "