Evening star., 1954-06-05
From Attic o Cellar
What Would Kitchen Be Without Kibitzers?
By Betty TrexIer


The modern kitchen is a mar
velous thing. Science and inven-
ton have transformed it from a
dark and dingy place of drudgery
to a thing of beauty where work
is done for You automatically. /
Everything would be perfect If
only somebody would handle the
human kitchen problems in the
same scientific way the drudgery
headaches were conquered.
What about the kibitzers. nui-
sances, bofes and other, human
offenders who afiiict the kitchen
worker? Why can't somebody do
something, about them?
Take Type A. for example. He
is usually a husband and a real
villain. Nine times out of ten
he is propped up on a couple Of
pillows on the sofa, comfortable
in slippers, pipe and reading a
newspaper. His wife is busily
preparing dinner in her prison
camp out yonder.
The meal is about ready to be
served. She opens the oven door.
lifts out the stil1-sirnmering.
good-smelling roast beef. gravy
and whole Drowned potatoes.
She smiles. It will be q fine
dinner.
Somehow her foot slips. She
lands on the floor. accompanied
by the roast beef. Gravy laps
greedily at her dress. A potato
is crushed under her elbow. The
hot pan has burned her arm.
She attempts to get up but slides
down helplessly in the gravy
again. Then she throws herself
down on the floor in both an
guish and hot gravy and starts
to cry.
Her husband, meanwhile, is
reluctant to leave his throne on
the sofa. Nonetheless, a bit per-
turbed over the crashes and
thuds coming from the kitchen,
he finally decides to see just
what this is all about.
He leans against the kitchen
door. He, gives the PROSTATE
figure a YIN tn etic look.
What happened? d." he asks.
what spilled?"
To the average kitchen worker,
such a man is a real menace.
Another offender-Type BIS
the little miss who is a guest
for dinner.
What can I do to help?" she
asks her hostess.
The hostess replies there's
nothing to do but to stay in and
talk to the menfolks: that din
ner will be ready in a jiffy.
But I insist" says the guest.
Surely there's something I can
do. Now you just give me an
apron and"
mo, really" says the hostess.
There's honestly not a thing for
you to do. I'd rather work alone
anyway in this small kitchen"
Il Now you're just being NICE"
says little Miss Helper.
This conversation goes on until
the housewife, in a state of ex-
hauStion, give in. Result: Com
plete chaos, burned rice, spilled
ice water, a cracked crazy bone,
too much salt in the soup, a
couple of burned fingers, one set
of very frayed nerves.
This isn't the end, however.
Dinner on the table, little Miss
Helper jumps up and down filing
water glasses, removing plates,
bringing in second helpings, call
ing inquiries from the kitchen
concerning the whereabouts of a
serving spoon, the meat knife,
the mint jelly.
Dinner finished, Type B is very
firm about wanting to wash the
dishes right away. The hostess
protests. II never wash dishes
until after the guests leave, right
before I go to bed" Type B Is
again insistent.
She clears the dishes off the
table, rinSes, stacks them, asks
where are the soap powder, dish
towels and dish drainer. She
washes the dishes. The hostess
can do nothing but dry them for
her and vow that this partic ular
dame will never get inside her
house again.
Then there is Type C. SINE
times known as the kitchen
Snooper.
This type sometimes takes the
form of a neighbor or relative.
Representatives of this type are
apt to sniff into the sweet pota-
toes, fork the ham. sample the