Great Cooks : Singing Mom’s Praises

“I would like to submit my mother for being not just a great but a brilliant cook. Even Marvin Hamlisch offered her money to go into the food business after he’d tasted her b-b-q chicken.”

--Melissa Manchester

Standing in the small kitchenette of her parents’ apartment, Melissa Manchester puts her arm around her mother and says, “She’s into the Zen of chopping; in a crisis she always goes into the kitchen.” Then, shooting an affectionate look in her mother’s direction, she adds, “There’s just one problem: Every time she gives you a recipe, she leaves out one major step.”

Ruth Manchester laughs and pats her daughter’s shoulder. “You’ll have some soup?” she asks, ladling matzo balls into homemade chicken-vegetable broth. She takes the lid off an ancient pot and pokes at the contents while her daughter continues: “One year she decided to give me and my sister all our favorite recipes. We were thrilled. Then we started cooking. Nothing tasted right. My mother came to my house and said, ‘No, that’s wrong.’ And I said, ‘Mom, I didn’t just make this up--it’s the recipe you gave me.’ ”

“When I was growing up,” Melissa says, “it was like the last 15 minutes of ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.’ We had wonderful neighbors--everybody knew everybody. My mom was always cooking out of the quartermaster cookbook. If she expected 80 for dinner, she’d cook for 1,000--just in case. It was pretty incredible, considering that she was working too.”

“Those were great times,” says Ruth Manchester, who started her own clothing business in the early ‘60s. She looks at her daughter, shakes her head pityingly and says, “You kids are never going to know that.”

“My mother,” says Melissa, “designed the turtleneck.” Her mother looks slightly exasperated. “What I really did,” she says in the interest of total disclosure, “is discover that stretch nylon fabric would be perfect to use in mass production. I was so excited when I found the fabric, and then the person I was working for hated it. So I went to a friend. I said, ‘I have a line, you want to go into business?’ And we were off, flying.”

While Ruth Manchester designed clothes, her husband David, a bassoonist with the Metropolitan Opera Company, went off to rehearsal every morning and came home in time to cook lunch for his two daughters. “He could cook a mean can of tomato soup,” recalls Melissa with slight irony. She doesn’t actually put it into words, but the look on her face says, “Thank God Mom did most of the cooking.”

“I came home at 5:30 or 6,” says Ruth, “and made dinner. Then Dave went to work.” And then the whole neighborhood came over to eat.

Things didn’t change all that much when the Manchesters moved to California. Although the Manchesters now live in a small apartment in Sherman Oaks, Ruth still feeds the neighborhood. “We do a lot of entertaining,” she admits. “I do mostly fearless cooking.” She piles “lamb bastids” (you have to say it with a New York accent to understand how the dish got its name, says Melissa) onto a platter and urges her guests to try a slice of lemon cake. Melissa picks up a sticky rib and urges, “Tell about Marvin Hamlisch.”

“Well,” says Ruth, “I make this killer chicken, and when Marvin tasted it he said, ‘Make that chicken for the world.’ It’s marinated and baked very slowly in a sauce a lot like this one--bottled barbecue sauce, apricot and pineapple jam, horseradish and lots of garlic.”

But Ruth is far too busy to go into the food business. Now retired from the clothing business, she manages various actors and writers. She entertains. She spends time with her grandchildren. And of course, she makes her children miserable.

“You know,” Melissa suddenly admits, “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t even know how to cook a brisket.”

Her mother looks at her, a wry expression on her face, and says, “I’m not gone yet, I’m still here, I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” says Melissa, the expression on her face exactly the same as the one on her mother’s, “but you’ll leave something out.”

The following recipes don’t leave anything out. At least we don’t think they do. The one thing that is crucial to both the brisket and the lamb is to cook them a long time; the ribs will look so dark that you’ll be afraid that they’re burned and a bit embarrassed to serve them. And then you’ll turn around for a second, and when you turn back you’ll discover that there are none left.

LEMON CAKE

1 (18.25-ounce) box lemon supreme cake mix (any brand with pudding in mix)

1 cup sour cream

Juice of 1 lemon

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons oil

4 eggs

Glaze

Butter and flour bundt cake pan and bake at 350 degrees 40 minutes, or until cake tests done or wood pick inserted in center comes out clean. When cool, pour Glaze over cake so it drips down sides. Makes 12 servings.

Glaze

Juice of 1 lemon

1 1/2 to 2 cups powdered sugar

Combine lemon juice and powdered sugar in small bowl. Makes about 2/3 cup.

BRISKET OF BEEF

1 whole brisket

1/2 cup Heinz 57 sauce

1 teaspoon onion powder

1 teaspoon garlic powder

3 large ripe tomatoes, diced

3 large onions, diced

2 (1-ounce) envelopes dry onion soup mix

Rub brisket all over with Heinz 57 sauce. Sprinkle liberally with onion and garlic powder. (Use excessive amounts of garlic powder.)

Mix 1 package soup mix with tomatoes and onions. Place mixture inside large piece foil. Place meat on top of mixture. Place other package of onion soup mix on top. Wrap tightly. Roast at 375 degrees 1/2 hour. Turn oven down to 325 degrees and roast 2 hours longer.

Cool. Refrigerate overnight, unopened.

Remove from refrigerator. Remove all fat from meat. Slice brisket. Place sliced meat in Dutch oven with all juice. Bring to boil and simmer over slow heat 1 1/2 hours. Makes 8 servings.

LAMB BASTIDS

Juice of 3 lemons (about 1/2 cup)

2 (14-ounce) bottles Chris & Pitts barbecue sauce

2 (5-ounce) bottles red horseradish

1 (18-ounce) jar apricot-pineapple jam

60 lamb riblets (about 7 pounds)

Combine lemon juice, barbecue sauce, horseradish and jam in large bowl. Add riblets, place in refrigerator and marinate overnight.

Line large pan with foil. Place riblets in pan and bake at 350 degrees 1 hour until glazed. Turn riblets, brush with sauce, and bake 30 minutes to 1 hour more or until dark brown. Makes 8 servings.