Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-01-10
CHEFS OF ATLANTA O. K.
MRS. WOODROW WILSON'S
RECIPE FOR BAKING HAM

don't worry. Mrs. Wilson. How can
you hope to buck 5000 recipes and get
away with it?
Herr August Anstett, at the Kimban,
wakes enthusiastic
"Sehr gut" he excIaims. He reads it
over again, and joyful smile, inwardly
inspired, spreads over his jovial face
Here's Praise Abundant.
Fine he announces, without reser-
walton. TT would make great dish
Mrs. Wilson's ham is all right"
THANK you, thank YOU" you say,
backing out.
ooh, that's all right" graciously. NO
harm done. It's good ham"
Congratulations, Mrs Next Presi-
dent. You are elected to the aristoc-
racy. Who calls you a cook must guess
again. You are an artist. You crate
not, neither do you "politick," but
Woodrow in all his glory is not in your
class They may begrudge it and
qualify it, but they have only praise for
your ham, these chefs of Atlanta.
None Of your hOi polloi are the hotel
chefs Of Atlanta, or men of rash judg-
mality and, in the aristoCracy of their
art, as far away from the common herd
as the car of all the Russias. It is
hard for them to grant even to Mrs
Woodrow Wilson the right to trespass
on their dominion.
Revelation Of their majesty all came
about when Mrs. Wilson announced
her recipe for baked ham, 1t sounded
good.
interviewing Chef
All very well, Mrs Wilson. but At
lanta is long on cooks itself And lust
to see if you really can deliver the
goods with the cook book, ii was we'll
to see what the local experts think of it,
That's easily said. But did you ever
try to interview chef-a real. live, inn
ported artist with avoirdupois and
temperament? You found yourself up
against it, if you have.
1t is there that you realize a chef is
some pumpkins. He is nobody's little
interviewer, like chief of police, or
mayor, or senator He is as hard to
reach as a railroad president. Your
The hotel man is his duenna, and the
clerk is his sentinel-and on the job all
the time. The chef is a parsonage.
Suppose for instance you want to
find out what the Atlanta chefs think Of
Mrs. Wilson's ham 1t happens, or it
did happen, something like this;
At the Kimball you ask for the chef
The clerk looks you over suspiciously.
He can't be disturbed" he an
nounces. with finaIity. Hes in his
room. He can be seen at o'clock"
You Brave Beef Stew.
The clerk turns away, Your appoint
ment is made.
But, say" you insist.
HE must not be disturbed" says the
clerk. The must" gets the emphasis.
What are you but a reporter? You
realize it now. There's something about
you somewhere in Shakespeare-"o
dwarf; out minimus of hindering nut
grass made. You bead, you acorn"
And SO, when you reach the Pied
mont your idea of chiefly glory isl
heightened. You put in your request
for the lord of the culinary province.
do you wish to see him about a po-
sition?" the clerk asks you.
mo, sir" you reply, humbly. I'm
just a reporter"
You get your directions, and pass the
outer guard. Then the inner guard, and
white wings halls you, and de-
mands your business.
THE chef will be in his ofice"-his
office mind you-"at 3 o'clock" you are
informed
OFF to the Georgian Terrace, where
the chef is no less unapproachable.
Hes likely to hit you in the head
with a beef stew if you disturb him."
you are warned.
But after a while. defying the beef
stew and the white wings" you see
your men. And they tell you that Mrs
Wilson has the goods