Baby Chickens and <i> Rigatoni Napoli</i> : Menu Takes the Cake at Ronald Reagan’s Bistro Garden Birthday Party

“Ronnie Reagan is having his birthday at the Bistro Garden and I wouldn’t miss being there for the world. Want to join me?” asked my friend Jill, who seems to have a link to a who’s who in world-class restaurant reservations.

Well, I did vote for him by default. And Feb. 6 is also my birthday. Besides, I could use an evening away from the house and kids.

“OK,” I said. “I’ll join you.”

“Good,” said Jill. “Let’s make it at 7:30. It’s probably going to be an early night. Ronnie likes to go to bed early, I hear.”

I wondered what I should wear. I wondered what Nancy would wear. Red, no doubt. Something charming, borrowed or bought . . . who cared? Maybe a beaded bodice too. That’s the latest thing from New York and Paris. Beads, beads, beads.

But Would He Notice?

I decided to wear the warm and woolly, forest green Donna Karan I picked up on sale at the Cooper Building, with my cozy muskrat Swing coat. They’re nice, but not necessarily presidential material. Ronald Reagan would probably never notice, anyway. Nor would Nancy. Who cared?

From a block away I could spot the horde of plainclothes security officers, groupies and media people clustered around the Bistro Garden’s entrance like early birds at a Circuit City two-hour sale. I detoured to the back entrance. I despise bulldozing my way through restaurant groupies. Immediate rejection of my non-celebrity status is hard to take before dinner. Or after, for that matter.

Jill was already at our table wedged into the corner of a corner table, facing the main dining room. The chairs on either side of the table faced a wall. I sat at her left facing a pretty wallpaper print.

“Where’s Ronnie?”I asked, contorting my torso into a Yoga cobra twist.

“In the other room with 90 invited guests,” Jill whispered.

“I thought he was dining with us,” I said facetiously.

She reeled off the names of the creme de la creme in world affairs and show biz she’d recognized. A mixed, unlikely bag: former Secretary of State George and Helena Shultz; William and Betty Wilson; Walter and Lee Annenberg; Armand and Harriet Deutsch; Lew and Edie Wasserman; Tony Martin and Cyd Charisse; Betsy Bloomingdale and Ed Cox; Eva Gabor; Merv Griffin; Bob and Dolores Hope, and Mary Martin.

“Eva Gabor? What’s she doing here?” I asked, not without envy.

“Looks great. So does Shultz. Brown as a berry and really cute.”

“And Ronnie?”

“Relieved.”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Nancy is in red again, looking very thin.”

“With beads, I bet.

“How did you know? Everybody’s in beads and black. Black, black, black.”

“So, what’s for dinner?”

“Anything you want, dearie. Dinner’s on me.”

“No, I mean at Ronnie’s birthday party.”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. You just sit tight.”

I sat facing the wallpaper print, listening to the clitter-clatter of dishes and din of conversation behind me while Jill was on her reconnaissance mission.

Moments later I felt Jill’s strong hands grab my shoulders from behind. “Guess what?” she asked. “Ronnie just spilled his drink all over Marion Jorgensen’s gorgeous black gown. She’s out in the kitchen drying up.”

“How awful. Did he apologize?”

“With a joke.”

Then she quoted or paraphrased, I’m not sure which.

Three Things That Failed

“There are three things failing me in my old age,” Reagan had said. “The first is my eyes. The second . . . er . . . I forgot what the other two things were.”

“Do you suppose they’ll serve the same menu to us?” I asked, interrupting Jill’s cackle.

“You really want to eat BABY chickens?” Jill asked aghast. “That’s what they’re having--baby chickens and lemon birthday cake.

“Oh, come on,” I said. Baby chickens have been “in” for years now.

“Are they really BABY chickens?”

“Sure,” I said. “Three week-old chickens.”

“Ugh.”

Baby chickens marketed today are sold chiefly to restaurants as poussin, the French name for spring or unfledged chicken, I explained to Jill. Poussin , not to be confused with squab, which are young pigeons, have been used over the centuries by Italian and French chefs, who have served the small birds en cocotte (small casseroles) or grilled, because of their extra tenderness.

Game bird producers both in New York state and Northern California have, within the last decade, produced naturally-fed 14- to 16-ounce baby chickens, as more and more French and Italian chefs have made professional inroads in the United States, according to Bob Shiply of Squab Producers of California, the largest producers of squab in the United States.

Impressive Fare

You can also find poussin at gourmet food stores. Cost (about $3.25 apiece) is high, compared with $1.50 for regular supermarket broiler-fryers. But they’re worth the price, if you want to impress.

The Bistro menu actually began with Scottish salmon on toast. The second course: rigatoni Napoli made with ham, salami, green olives and mushrooms. A slightly odd pairing of dishes, but the rigatoni could carry it off if it was good. It was.

Then came the tiny baby chicken breast halves and thighs surrounded by a colorful melange of sauteed baby pearl onions, tiny marbles of sauteed potato, fresh baby asparagus spears, baby carrots and plump green peas. All fresh and crisp, the way vegetables should be. Jill gazed at the plate with her mouth slightly ajar. “I really don’t think that’s enough food for big, strapping Ronnie or Shultzie,” she said.

“It’s certainly enough for Nancy and me,” I said.

I didn’t get to try the lemon birthday cake or the tartuffo ice cream, which seemed to me to be desserts at odds with the flavor of the menu, but who can dispute the power of personal preference or nostalgia?

And I didn’t get to see Ronald Reagan, much less say or sing “Happy Birthday” the way Sammy Cahn did.

I did, however, get to try a bite of the rigatoni Napoli and the . . . the. . . .

Oh, dear, I forgot.

BISTRO’S RIGATONI NAPOLI

1/2 pound salami, diced

1/2 pound cooked ham, diced

1 medium onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

1/2 pound mushrooms, sliced

2 medium tomatoes, peeled and diced

2 cups chicken broth

2 cups whipping cream

1/2 pound fresh peas, shelled

12 black olives, slivered

12 green olives, slivered

Salt, pepper

1 pound rigatoni

1/4 cup virgin olive oil

Saute salami and ham in dry skillet until browned. Drain all but 1 tablespoon fat. Add onion and garlic and saute 2 minutes. Add mushrooms and tomatoes and saute 1 minute more.

Add chicken broth and whipping cream and bring to simmer. Add peas and heat until just tender. Add black and green olives. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Cook pasta until al dente in boiling salted water. Drain and rinse in cold water. Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add pasta and toss. Add sauce and toss until heated through. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

POUSSIN WITH TARRAGON SAUCE

4 small chickens, halved, or 8 whole baby chickens

Salt, pepper

1 teaspoon chopped parsley

1 teaspoon chopped fresh tarragon

1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme

Tarragon Sauce

Vegetable Bouquet

Rinse and pat dry chickens. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste and parsley, tarragon and thyme. Place in baking pan, breast side down and bake at 375 degrees 20 minutes on each side. Baste chicken frequently with pan juices.

Cool enough to handle, then bone and skin chicken breast and thighs only. Set aside. Reserve remaining chicken parts for other use.

When ready to serve, arrange boneless, skinless chicken breasts and thighs on individual plates or large platter. Spoon Tarragon Sauce over chicken or serve on side. Garnish plate with Vegetable Bouquet. Makes 8 servings.

Tarragon Sauce

1 large shallot, minced

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon fresh chopped tarragon

1 cup dry white wine

2 cups chicken broth

Saute shallots in 1 tablespoon butter until tender. Add 1 tablespoon tarragon. Add white wine and cook over high heat until reduced to glaze.

Add chicken broth and simmer, uncovered, 10 to 15 minutes over medium heat until reduced by 1/3. Strain. Add remaining 1 teaspoon tarragon. Simmer 5 minutes longer, then stir in remaining 1 tablespoon butter until melted. Makes 1 cup sauce.

Vegetable Bouquet

1 1/2 pounds fresh asparagus

1 1/2 pounds haricots verts

2 bunches baby carrots

1 basket small pearl onions

6 large potatoes

Butter

1 bunch watercress

Peel and cook asparagus in boiling salted water until just tender. Remove with strainer and plunge in cold water. Drain and set aside.

Cook haricots verts in boiling salted water until just tender. Remove with strainer and plunge in cold water. Drain and set aside.

Peel baby carrots, leaving trimmed stem intact. Cook in boiling salted water. Remove with strainer and plunge in cold water. Drain and set aside.

Peel and drop pearl onions in boiling salted water. Cook until just tender. Remove with strainer and plunge in cold water. Drain and set aside.

Peel potatoes and scoop flesh into marble-size balls. Drop into boiling salted water and cook until just tender. Remove with strainer and drain. Set aside.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in large skillet. Add asparagus and cook until heated through. Continue cooking vegetables by group, adding more butter, if necessary, to finish cooking and heating vegetables. Potatoes should be cooked until crisp and lightly browned.

Arrange asparagus, haricots verts, carrots, onions and potatoes on large platter. Garnish with watercress. Makes 8 servings.