The previous post got me feeling nostalgic about Marshall Field's, especially Marshall Field's at Christmastime. When I was a kid, we used to go down every year to see the windows and eat dinner beneath the big tree in the Walnut Room, the fancy dining room in the store. There would always be a long wait for dinner, and we would put our names in and then go out to look at the windows, not just at Marshall Field's, but at Carson Pirie Scott, as well. Usually my mom would have me in a dress and a fancier coat than usual, so I would be very cold. But then, we would come in from the cold and sit beneath the tree, and I would eat a dinner of the most delicious chicken pot pie in the world, so comforting after the cold weather, dark night, and hectic activity of State Street at Christmas.
The pot pie on the menu at the Walnut Room (I believe it is still on the menu even though Marshall Field's is no more) actually has a very nice history to it. When Marshall Field's first opened its doors in the 19th century, no department stores had restaurants or cafes in them. The stores were mostly frequented by women during the day, and at the time it would have been considered unseemly for women to be dining out in public without being accompanied by men. Legend has it that one day there was a woman shopping in Marshall Field's who was very hungry, and so one of the female employees, named Mrs. Hering, invited the hungry shopper to share her lunch. It was a chicken pot pie. Marshall Field supposedly heard about this and got an idea. He opened a tea room, and put Mrs. Hering's chicken pot pie on the menu. This gave women a place to rest, and even a destination. It gave them a place where they could make new friends and share confidences.
Marshall Field was famous for his belief in giving the woman what she wants. In his store, he created a space for women that offered refuge from the busyness of the city streets and the trials of daily life. When women came to Marshall Field's, regardless of their class or appearance, they were treated like they mattered. Marshall Field did not just introduce the tea room. He invented the idea of a bridal registry--a time-honored custom that makes shopping a special experience for a bride. He first introduced personal shoppers, and this service was offered for free to every Marshall Field's customer from the time that the first personal shopper came to his store until the day that the store closed. Any woman in the world could go to Marshall Field's and receive, for free, treatment that usually is only reserved for the wealthy. Women who lived in miserable conditions could walk into the "marble palace" of the State Street store and feel like they belonged and were welcomed there.
My great-grandmother, Evelyn, was a lifelong shopper at Marshall Field's. In family lore, she is known for many things, including her love of beauty and luxury, even when it is wholly impractical. Evelyn grew up in Chicago, and although her childhood was not particularly happy, she was from a wealthy family. Her maiden name was Flood, and she was one of the heirs to the Flood Brothers livery company. (The company actually is still operated by my relatives today, only now it is a waste management company. You can't miss the Irish flag-colored garbage trucks.) We tell a lot of "Grandma Eve" stories in our family. They have almost become like parables. And I have two Grandma Eve stories that concern Marshall Field's.
The first story happened when she was a little girl, crossing State Street with her mother on their way to do some shopping. Today, State Street can seem a little homely, but back then, it was like Michigan Avenue. It was full of stylish people out doing exciting things. Evelyn and her mother were crossing State Street, right by Marshall Field's, when Evelyn felt that her bloomers were slipping down beneath her dress. It was a dilemma--it would not be seemly to reach down beneath her dress to fix them, but then it also would not do to have them fall down, plus she couldn't stop moving since she was in the middle of the road. She alerted her mother to the situation, and her mother told her that she should hold her head high and pretend like nothing was happening. So Evelyn held her head high, kept walking, and stepped right out of her bloomers, leaving them in the middle of State Street. The lesson? A true woman can pull anything off so long as she never lets them see her fear.
|
Marshall Field's in 1905. These do not look like the kind of women who would have a sense of humor about lost bloomers. |
The other story about my great-grandmother Evelyn and Marshall Field's happened much later in her life. Evelyn grew up, got married, and had some children. She had a lot of money to spend, and loved shopping at Marshall Field's. She had an insatiable thirst for new, beautiful things, to the point where she was constantly giving her furniture to friends so that she would have room for something new. Her husband said that he felt at home everywhere they went because he always saw his furniture in other people's houses. But then, things changed. Evelyn lost one of her children very young, and then lost her husband soon after. She did not know how to manage her money. She became depressed, and mentally unstable. She started drinking, and became an alcoholic. Even though she did not have anything to spend, she still loved going to Marshall Field's. In the days when she had been a big spender, Evelyn often got driven home from the store in the Marshall Field's coach or van (I'd imagine that this would have changed from carriage to truck at some point in her life). The driver would park in front of her house, open the door for her, and unload several shopping bags or a new piece of furniture and take them inside for her. One can only imagine how important this must have made her feel. In her later years, even though she often bought nothing at all, the drivers still took her home after every visit to the store. Even though she now had nothing to offer to them, they continued to take care of her. The lesson? True glamour is something that comes from the inside out, and it has nothing to do with money.
And now, to close, a recipe for a little bite of Chicago nostalgia. Follow the example of the original Mrs. Hering and share this with someone who is feeling tired or in need of society during this holiday season. Or, if you are not a cook, just read through the instructions on this recipe. That Mrs. Hering was awfully nice to share the fruits of this amount of labor with a total stranger.
Marshall Field's "Mrs. Hering's Chicken Pot Pie"
Chicken and stock ingredients
1 (3 1/2 pound) frying chicken
1 carrot
1 celery stalk
1 small onion, halved
2 teaspoons salt
Pie crust ingredients
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, diced into 1/2-inch cubes (best to chill cubes in the freezer for at least 15 minutes before using)
1/4 cup vegetable shortening, chilled
3 to 4 Tbsp ice water
Filling ingredients
6 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 large onion, diced (about 1 1/4 cups)
3 carrots, thinly sliced on the diagonal
3 celery stalks, thinly sliced on the diagonal
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups milk
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/4 cup dry sherry
3/4 cup green peas, frozen or fresh
2 Tbsp minced fresh parsley
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Egg wash
1 egg whisked with 1 Tbsp water
Special equipment needed
6 10-ounce ramekins
1 Cook the chicken and make the chicken stock. Combine the chicken, carrot, celery, onion and salt into a large stock pot. Add cold water until just covered and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 45 minutes. Remove the chicken from the pot and let cool for 15 minutes. While the chicken is cooling, continue to boil the remaining water and vegetables in the pot. When the chicken has cooled enough to touch, strip away as much of the meat as you can. Place the meat on a dish, set aside. Return the chicken bones to the stockpot and continue to boil, on high heat, until the stock has reduced to a quart or quart and a half. Set aside 2 1/2 cups of the stock for this recipe. The remaining stock you can refrigerate and store for another purpose.
2 Prepare the pie crust dough. Combine the flour and salt in a food processor. Add the chilled butter cubes and pulse 5 times to combine. And the shortening and pulse a few more times, until the dough resembles a coarse cornmeal, with some pea-sized pieces of butter. Slowly stream in ice water, a tablespoon at a time, pulsing after each addition, until the dough sticks together when you press some between your fingers. Empty the food processor, placing the dough on a clean surface. Use your hands to mold into a ball, then flatten the ball into a disk. Sprinkle with a little flour, wrap with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or up to 2 days, before rolling.
3 Prepare the filling. Preheat oven to 400°F. In a large skillet, melt butter on medium heat. Add the onions, carrots, and celery, and cook until the onions are translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the flour and cook, stirring, one minute more. Whisk in 2 1/2 cups of the chicken stock. Whisk in the milk. Decrease the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring often. Add the chicken meat, thyme, sherry, peas, parsley, salt and pepper and stir well. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Divide the warm filling among six 10-ounce ramekins.
4 Prepare the crust. Roll out dough on a lightly flour surface to a little less than a quarter-inch thick. Cut into 6 rounds, slightly larger than the circumference of the ramekins. Lay a dough round on each pot pie filling. Fold the excess dough under itself and use the tines of a fork to press the dough against the edge of the ramekins. Cut a 1-inch vent into each individual pie. Use a pastry brush to apply an egg wash to each pie. Line a baking sheet with foil, place the pies on the baking sheet. Bake at 400°F for 25 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and the filling is bubbling. Let cool for at least 5 minutes before serving.
Serves 6.