A PLEA FOR SIMPLER ENTERTAINING

Otago Daily Times, Issue 26540, 15 August 1947, Page 2

A PLEA FOR SIMPLER ENTERTAINING

Dear Claire.—Recently after a very enjoyable evening I listened-in to the following conversation. Have you ever heard anything similar? Self: Mrs G. had a lovely supper last night. I did enjoy it. She went to a lot of trouble.—Conscience: Wouldn’t you have enjoyed yourself just as much without such a lovely supper? Self: There you go again, bother you! It showed that we were welcome.—Conscience: Could it not have been that she was like, us all, afraid to serve a simpler supper because of our ’comments? You know when you have served a wholesome afternoon tea or supper on a limited scale you’ve been haunted by the idea that you’ve broken hospitality rules. Self: No, that’s not quite right. I'm . scared that I’m letting my husband down, and that perhaps my action is taking advantage of the overseas situation to indulge in that laziness and meanness that I suspect is a strong factor In my sub-conscious.—Conscience: Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Isn’t it rather your reaction to the hunger and want overseas and a desire to share? Let’s get our facts in this discussion of trying to maintain pre-war standards or adopting rationed entertaining. For pre-war entertaining: (a) Our husbands like to have guests to the home, (b) Our children like to have their friends for parties as often as we will let them. (c) We like to feel that we can provide just as elaborate a supper as Mrs D . For limited afternoon teas and suppers: (a) A realisation of conditions in Britain and on the Continent. (b) Our increased duties as housewives, and increasing tiredness, (c) Do we get value with cakes at Is 6d a dozen? (d) Have we the right to use the family's rations, especially the children’s in being hospitable?—Conscience: We’ve left out the most important one. Self: What’s that?—Conscience: You're scared of what people would say. Common sense says that you should put rationed entertaining to the test and see if your friends stop coming because you don’t provide a spread. Don’t insult your friends and yourself by thinking that the food provided is all they come for. Have the courage of your convictions and don’t say, “ Conscience makes cowards of us ali.” —I am, etc., Dorothy. • * * I feel we should all be grateful to Dorothy for bringing forward this subject at the present time, when we are all so aware of the increasing need in England. Recently I had been disparaging my cakes, which had been made with dripping, but was shamed to read in a letter from a London friend, *■ Thank you for the lovely dripping—it’s real fat and not the vegetable stuff we get that goes by the name of lard." Many of our overseas visitors have commented on the variety of rich cakes provided for morning and afternoon teas and suppers in this country. Instead of enjoying these, many of them have been acutely aware of the hungry people of England and their need for all the food that we can send. Have we the right to indulge in such elaborate spreads when there is such want and famine in other countries? None of us like the thought of appearing mean but if we would all adopt the simpler form of entertaining it would show a realisation of other people’s deprivations. One group of six or seven women witn young children have limited their afternoon teas to one plate of plain biscuits or sandwiches, and one plate of cake, and each hostess feels that she can take her turn without effort. It appears that in the future a cup of tea may become a luxury, so let us follow out "Dorothy’s” suggestions and adopt the slogan, “Are all these cakes really necessary? ”