Dolly knitted her brow, but decided to keep quiet. It was her first meeting, after all; it wouldn’t do to ruffle feathers, and it seemed that this Mickelson family was a sore subject with the ladies. So she sat quietly and continued to struggle with the tiny needle, as conversation turned toward the best spots to pick wild raspberries, the current sale on at Wasserman’s Hardware—Dolly gathered that Jeannette’s husband owned the place—and the ladies’ chagrin that their new young pastor was unmarried. Dolly began to imagine a discussion at the synod level of the problem of sending any poor pastor’s wife to Pine Rapids to try to wrest control of the Ladies Aid from Mrs. Fryt, who, in Dolly’s mind, was surely notorious. There was no chance to turn the subject back to the Mickelson house, even when the group took a coffee break. Everyone raved about her Lacy Raisin Wafers, though, until she blushed with pleasure. It was a recipe from her new Good Housekeeping cookbook, so she felt it a special victory that they were received so well.

Chapter 2

The Meal Planner’s Creed

My family’s enjoyment of food is my responsibility; therefore—I will increase their pleasure by planning for variety, for flavorful dishes, for attractive color, for appetizing combinations.

—The Modern Family Cook Book, 1942

HOME OF BYRON AND DOLLY MAGNUSON
406 Jefferson Avenue, Pine Rapids, Wisconsin
Tuesday, June 13, 1950

In nearly two years of married life, Dolly had prided herself on never serving Byron the same dinner twice in the same month. She kept a calendar on which she noted each evening’s fare and where the recipe could be found, whether on a color-coded, numbered card in her recipe box, or in one of her several cookbooks. She also jotted down Byron’s comments: “Not bad, hon;” “Tastes great, Doll;” “Mmm-mmm.” Nuanced critiques, to be sure, but Dolly noted them faithfully. New recipes were indicated on the calendar in red ink, and she held herself to at least ten red notations per month. The last thing she wanted was for Byron to grow bored with her, to find her predictable.