The Comeback Kid

Some things never go out of style: the basic black dress, a strand of perfect pearls. And some never should, such as hats, gloves and the ladies’ lunch.

Saturdays, my mother--often in her favorite olive-and-white tweed suit with a pencil skirt and a raglan-sleeved peplum jacket--and I caught the bus at Melrose and Virgil and headed downtown for a day of shopping and lunch.

It was the mid-1950s, and the area pulsed with well-heeled shoppers. Holding my mother’s hand, I thrilled to that rush when throngs of pedestrians met, merged and passed through to opposite corners, Manhattan-style, as we crossed the busy streets.

Our favorite destination was Bullock’s at 7th and Broadway. Founded in 1907, it was a Southern California original. The department store grew to a city block, its girth split by St. Vincent Court but connected above by multi-storied bridges. The Bullock’s crest, Suprema Regnat Qualitas, on the southern span, oversaw the store’s outdoor flower shop, a wondrous sort of mini-Covent Garden.

The Tea Room was a refuge from the rigors of seeking that perfect outfit for an evening at Ciro’s, Frank Sennes’ Moulin Rouge, or the Mocambo. We’d settle in and watch the models glide down the permanent runways and pirouette among the linen-clothed tables.

Luncheon food was always ladylike--tasteful, never loud, a well-put-together ensemble accessorized by table linens and a fashion show. The menu at Bullock’s and other Los Angeles eateries had certain SoCal distinctions. Then, as now, we celebrated local produce and ate right: sun-drenched grapefruit and avocados (listed as “Alligator Pear Salad” on a 1918 Beverly Hills Hotel menu), date-nut bread, tea sandwiches, orange rolls. We lunched on fruits of the Pacific, salmon from northern rivers, and that most famous L.A. composed salad--the Brown Derby Cobb, which was created in 1929.

For me, the shimmering jewel in the crown was tomato aspic, and it’s beyond me why this classically pedigreed dish is accused of turning one’s hair blue. Well-made aspic is summer in suspension. Served with a dollop of mayonnaise, it’s a refinement of the tomato sandwich. Prepared with heirloom tomatoes, it comes in many colors.

Some Saturdays, my mother and I ventured farther west to the even more elegant Bullock’s Wilshire at Wilshire and Westmoreland, where the Tea Room’s Franglaised menu featured “Salade du Bombay” (with aspic), “Poulet Maison Blanc,” “Plate du Jour.”

Actress Angela Lansbury, who was a 16-year-old cosmetics salesgirl at that location in 1942, describes the Art Deco landmark as “luxurious, a cathedral of good taste.” The serenely spaced displays invited Hollywood’s finest shoppers. “I was too young and green to wait on the stars,” Lansbury remembers, and confessed that she was awed by the sight of Irene Dunne, Marion Davies and Gloria Swanson shopping in “almost floor-length, drenchingly dripping mink coats.”

“As an employee, I never went up to the Tea Room, that was hallowed ground,” Lansbury says. “It was an occasion coming back to Bullock’s Wilshire as a customer in 1947 to buy the suit I was to be married in. I came with my mother, and we most certainly had lunch in the Tea Room, I remember wonderful tea sandwiches, salads and chicken vol au vent.”

While I learned table manners ad hoc, Hollywood mothers and daughters, including Frances and Candice Bergen, formed a pre-debutante group called the Subdebs (predating the rock group) that met during the ‘50s at Bullock’s Wilshire and Bullock’s Westwood (opened 1951), for white-glove luncheons and tea service lessons. Recalls Gaylord Littenberg, daughter of music arranger and composer Sonny Burke, “We practiced our skills on scoops of tuna, egg and chicken salads, and sherbet.” They lived the tearoom fantasy. “Once, we were the models at Bullock’s Westwood. It was very exciting; all those accessories, our outfits with matching hats labeled with our names.”

The landscape has changed. Bullock’s downtown became St. Vincent Jewelry Center in 1983. Today, the brass-doored elevators service a parking garage, and the court is a shambling mix of tiny cafes. A restored Bullock’s Wilshire now houses Southwestern law school’s library, and Bullock’s Westwood is home to a Ralphs supermarket.

But my mother and I still lunch, although we’ve broadened the menu and thankfully dropped the faux French. Accessories departments again feature hats and gloves. And recently I read that chef Thomas Keller, guru of cutting-edge good taste, recommended turning clear essence of strained tomatoes into “a very elegant aspic.” Some classics are poised for a comeback.

Beverly Hills Crown Alligator Pear Salad

Serves 8

Adapted from “The Beverly Hills Hotel Cookbook (1912-1928),” by Electra Lynn Anderson (E.L. Anderson & Daughters, 1985).

2 bunches watercress, cleaned and plucked, about 8 cups

4 Valencia oranges

4 ripe, but firm, buttery avocados

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Sea salt, to taste

Coarsely ground black pepper

Arrange watercress in shallow serving bowl. Cut three oranges into crosswise slices. Cut off top and bottom of an orange. Stand orange on one flattened end and pare away peel and white pith along sides. Turn orange on its side and slice. Cut slices in half and repeat with two more oranges. Cut avocados in half lengthwise, remove seeds, and peel. Cut each half crosswise into slices. Alternate orange and avocado slices over watercress.

Using a sharp knife or zester, remove orange zest from remaining orange and place in small mixing bowl. Squeeze about 2 tablespoons of juice from orange into bowl and add lemon juice. Whisk in oil and salt to taste. Add more orange or lemon juice as desired. Pour dressing over salad and top with black pepper.

Classic Fresh Tomato Aspic

Serves 8

2 pounds ripe, juicy tomatoes, about 5 cups, coarsely chopped, or 3 14-ounce cans diced tomatoes

1 cup water

2 tablespoons grated onion

1/3 cup minced celery with leaves

1 large bay leaf

1-2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon sugar, optional

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 envelopes unflavored gelatin

Butter lettuce and mayonnaise for garnish

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For Bloody Mary Variation:

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon prepared white horseradish, or more to taste

Several drops Tabasco sauce, or more to taste

2 tablespoons vodka, optional

In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, bring tomatoes, onion, celery, bay leaf and 1/2 cup of water to a boil uncovered. Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, stir gelatin into remaining 1/2 cup of water to soften and set aside. Remove bay leaf and put tomato mixture through a food mill fitted with a fine disk, or through a strainer. Return puree to pot, add salt generously to taste and lemon juice, and sugar, if needed. Stir in Bloody Mary additions, if desired. Bring mixture back to a simmer, remove from heat and add softened gelatin, stirring until thoroughly dissolved.

Rinse eight 1/2-cup molds with cold water and pour aspic into them, filling almost to top. Or pour mixture into rinsed 1-quart ring mold. Chill until firm, 3-4 hours or overnight. To unmold, run a sharp knife around edge of each mold, dip bottoms of molds briefly in hot water and invert onto salad plates. Garnish each aspic with lettuce leaves and a dollop of mayonnaise.

Cream Salmon Loaf

Serves 8-10

2 1/2 cups flaked poached salmon (2 large salmon steaks, about a generous pound)

3 tablespoons minced shallots

1 cup heavy cream

2/3 cup fresh bread crumbs

1 egg, beaten

2 teaspoons fresh dill, chopped

1 1/2 tablespoons flat-leaf parsley, chopped

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

White pepper, freshly ground, to taste

1 tablespoon butter, melted

Lemon wedges

Finely chop salmon. In a medium bowl, mix together salmon, shallots, cream, bread crumbs, egg, herbs, lemon juice and salt and pepper. Brush melted butter onto bottom and sides of a 41/2-inch-by-8-1/2-inch loaf pan. Pour salmon mixture into pan and smooth top with a spatula. Bake at 350 degrees until toothpick in center comes out clean and edges are browned, 35-40 minutes. Cool 10 minutes before turning out onto platter. May be served hot or cold. Serve with lemon wedges.

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Food stylist: Christine Masterson