No Fusty Ghosts in Steinbeck’s Cheerful House

There were no fusty ghosts in the old John Steinbeck house. At any rate, I did not sense the presence of any as I lunched with my back nearly against the brick of the simple Victorian fireplace with a large, rectangular mirror set in broad, quartered oak trim above the mantle.

A photograph of young John reading near this very fireplace hung on the wall beside me. It was taken Christmas Day, 1919, when John was in high school and had begun writing short stories in a bedroom above me. Gathered with him in the photo, all intently reading, are some other members of his family--his mother Olive, his father John Ernst, county treasurer, and his sister, Mary.

The reception room to the left of the entrance had been the master bedroom where John Ernst Steinbeck was delivered by Dr. Henry Murphy on Feb . 27, 1902. (Steinbeck died in 1968.)

This was the Steinbeck family’s living room where my wife and I were eating lunch a little over a week ago. This house, built in 1897 and located on the corner of Central Avenue and Stone Street in Salinas, is described in Steinbeck’s family saga, “East of Eden,” as “an immaculate and friendly house, grand enough but not pretentious, and it sat inside its white fence, surrounded by its clipped lawn, and roses and cotoneasters lapped against its white walls.”

It still sits today in similar surroundings, although I suspect, judging from other old family photos on its walls, that it was not nearly as elegantly decorated as it is today. I intend no adverse criticism of its reproduced Victorian decor. Richly figured wallpapers in greens, roses and peacock blues now embellish its formerly more restrained interior.

Yet the effect is wonderfully and cheerfully reminiscent of the manner in which I believe an unpretentious late Victorian house should be decorated. These qualities of wonderfulness and cheerfulness are amply reflected in the meals and in the women who serve them.

Elaine Steinbeck, John’s widow, says in the preface of “The Steinbeck House Cookbook” that whenever she lunches there, she feels “the spirit of John beside me. He would love the ambiance of the house, his boyhood home recreated by the devoted and talented women of the Valley Guild. He would love the company of his fellow Californians. And surely he would love the food upon the tables. ‘Get the recipes for these wonderful dishes,’ he would undoubtedly urge me.”

Yes, the happy spirit is there in this old house, but no melancholy hauntings, I think. No self-respecting ghost would tolerate the cheerful atmosphere of this place, and it was made so by the aforementioned women of the Valley Guild. The Valley Guild was organized in 1971 by four Salinas Valley women who envisioned launching a luncheon restaurant that would offer the best of the area’s fresh vegetables and fruits as they came into season. Their plan was to staff the operations with volunteers who would rotate their services on a flexible schedule. All proceeds would first cover expenses, and remaining profits would be distributed to various charities in the valley.

And so it came about and so it is today to the letter.

There are two seatings only at 11:45 a.m. and 1:15 p.m., Mondays through Fridays. Each day, a single different menu is served at the almost unbelievably low price of $5.50.

Our lunch that day was minestrone soup, a thick version loaded with fresh valley vegetables, and a huge slice of flaky crusted vegetable and cheese pie they misleadingly called a Florentine cheese tart. This was topped off by a delicious chocolate rum pie (desserts extra) that nearly foundered us.

This was our first great meal of several, and the most memorable because of the setting, on our recent vacation in Northern California. Fortunately, we had the wisdom to phone ahead for reservations at the Steinbeck House, or we probably would have been turned away, for it is, justifiably, that popular.

And now, garnered from “The Steinbeck House Cookbook,” here’s John’s Potato Dish recipe that the author delighted in preparing. It is served now and then at the restaurant. Saute three slices of bacon, cut in one-inch squares, in a heavy skillet to cover bottom with bacon drippings. Mix three medium potatoes, coarsely grated, two medium onions, chopped, with a half teaspoon of salt, a quarter teaspoon of pepper and a quarter teaspoon of poultry seasoning. Pour over it one small can of evaporated milk. Do not mix. Cover and cook over medium-low heat for 1 1/2 hours or more.

It is said that when the conversation was more interesting than coming to table, Steinbeck used to turn down the heat on his special potato dish, which ended up tasting better and better as time passed. If you want to capture the Steinbeck spirit, that ought to invoke it.