Screenland (May-Oct 1931)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

102 SCREENLAND Summer Specials— Continued from page 12 Miss Do'thy," smilingly admitted her dusky servitor. "Tha's the one you invented when we was in Del Monte. It has apple, an' celery chopped real fine with that berled dressin' like you make, an' I mixed a little of the dressin' with the whipped cream, jest like you do, and cut up some orange twists — " "Yes, I remember," enthused Dorothy, "that's a good one, but how about this?" pointing to a refreshing looking bunch of crisp watercress festooned around garden peas, two quarters of tomato, stalks of new asparagus, an artichoke heart and a strip of crimson pimento. "Tha's numbah sixteen, Miss Do'thy. You made it up in Yosemite." 'Celia showed her white teeth in pride as Dorothy leaned forward to examine the detail of the salad with a practiced eye. "It's a beauty, it is," she pronounced. There was one more green, yellow, and orange delight that caused a dreamy look to come into her eyes. She fondly gazed at the sliced avocado, a luscious one, not too ripe, and cut into green-edged mounds in a graduated line across the amethyst Mexican hand-blown glass plate. She seemed to disregard the effectively placed pears that flanked the center fruit with tiny slices of a fresh peach and the dab of Russian dressing with a bit of watercress blending with a ring of parsley surrounding the plate's edge. It was a moment before she said, reminiscently, "Yes, this is the one I'll eat first. And with every bite I take I will think of that gorgeous evening in Honolulu when someone helped me invent it. It was a special sort of 'someone,' and we picked the avocado, and chilled it, and then we found a very ripe Hawaiian mountain apple and a mango that would melt in your mouth — " She broke off, suddenly conscious of her listeners, and snapped back into the typical debonair Mackaill manner. Few people realize that she has another side — that there is a decidedly soft and feminine quality in "Dot." But just mention Honolulu to her and watch the effect. When the mists of a poignant memory have cleared a bit, leaving an impression that something quite wonderful must have happened to her in that tropical mecca of successful stars, she talks quite naturally and easily of the gorgeous Island fruits that she has wangled into salads to the delight of the hospitable Honoluluans, who appreciate nothing so much as witnessing the enthusiasm of a Mainlander or "malihini" over their Island products. So she consoled herself with the pear and the peach that acted as a home substitute for the mountain apple and the mango, and pouring a cool amber glass of iced coffee she abandoned herself to her luncheon. "You know," she remarked over a halfraised forkful, "I wish I could live entirely on salads. I just about do. Of course, there are gorgeous meats and desserts and all that, but just look at this salad. It has everything that I want, and honestly, if I cram myself full of hot food in the middle of the day, I can't work. That sort of over-stuffed feeling seems to creep up into my brain and my lines go blooey. But a chilled salad with good wholesome vegetables hits the spot. It fills and chills and 'satisfies the inner man,' and I have to watch my step or I can even feel stuffed on it !" she laughed. "This salad today is fine. I like it about the best of any in my salad category. But for every-day consumption it is too rich. I like lots of vegetables all mixed together, and nearly every day I eat the same kind for luncheon. 'Celia makes it strictly according to my rules, and I hereby reveal the ingredients, only I do reserve the original copyright for my own. "In the first place, the vegetables should be washed carefully and chilled, the cooked ones particularly. The number of vegetables I use in this salad that I call the 'High Type Mackaill Special' sounds appalling, but it really is not any trouble and Dorothy Mackaill is about to indulge in salad Number 16 — one of Miss Mackaill's special summer specials. tastes so good that it's worth the effort. It calls for three carrots, four beets and one cucumber diced into small pieces, but not too small, so that the juices are not dissipated, a cup of fresh green garden peas, lots of celery and chopped chives or green onions, one pimento (for its color, mostly) and three tomatoes, peeled and cut into quarters. Shred a small head of lettuce, add the onions or chives and mix the whole in a large bowl. "Then here's the secret part. I take the end of a French loaf and rub it well with a split garlic clove and before placing the prepared vegetables in the bowl I rub it with the garlic-tinted bread ! The garlic melody doesn't linger on if it is done carefully, and gives the salad that spicy and subtle touch. Then three tablespoons of mayonnaise made more liquid by squeezing in a little lemon juice is poured in the mixture and stirred thoroughly but carefully so that the individual cut vegetables are not injured or mashed. Arrange a crisp lettuce leaf on each plate and mound the vegetables carefully in a mold in the center, sprinkle with paprika and garnish with a bit of parsley or watercress." Although Dorothy knows how to "throw" a formal dinner party with all the proper and correct appointments, she prefers the simple little informal luncheon affairs where she can do most of the preparing herself. She is not a home-body in the sense that she totes her sewing basket around the house trailing a half-hemmed window curtain, or wears a white smudge of flour on the tip of her very attractive nose, but she does appreciate the little intimacies of a successfully prepared luncheon where she can shine in her chosen home profession of salad-making. Contrary to the general belief that all movie actresses hold perpetual open house with hundreds of their professional and admiring friends trailing in and out, Dorothy Mackaill does not employ this policy. She believes that her "house is her castle," and lives with her mother, who is just what any girl's mother should be. She runs the rancho while her talented daughter works away at being one of the country's most popular motion picture stars, and that's that. Dorothy's friends are legion. She is definitely the type of girl that people instinctively like to be with. But she has a lot of reserve, and just try to shake her independence. It can't be done. She is a good fellow, and at the same time she commands admiration for her poise and good nature. She "kids" wonderfully with everyone on the lot from prop boys to studio powers and knows the messenger boys by their first names. Most people of her distinction who have "arrived" cherish a hobby. Dorothy has a natural bent toward salad-making at home or abroad. Wherever she travels her recipe book goes along to help her charm the palates of those she invites in for a salad and a chat. Mrs. Hoot Gibson — or the girl Florenz Ziegfeld selected as the most beautiful in Hollywood, but she's Sally Eilers to you. Sally has a grand new contract with Fox and her next picture will be "Bad Girl," adapted from Vina Delmar's best seller.