HAIL TO THE CHEF

Gesturing toward the White House, a senator once facetiously asked Calvin Coolidge, "Who lives there?" Coolidge replied, "No one. They just come and go." Thus, Tuesday the American people went to the polls to determine who would be the next tenants to move in for a while at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

But though Coolidge was correct that occupants of the White House are only temporary tenants, their impact is often felt long after they move out. And perhaps nowhere is this more the case than with dining and entertaining. If history is any guide, our new president and first lady will soon exert their influence on national culinary trends. For example, tiny new potatoes stuffed with sour cream and caviar became a countrywide sensation during the JFK administration. The dish was the invention of White House chef Rene Verdon in response to a request from Jacqueline Kennedy.

Each first family has left its own culinary imprint on the country and the executive mansion. As Henry Haller, executive chef for five presidents, observes, "No family leaves the White House exactly as it was upon their arrival. Each family, in its own personal way, leaves a special impression on the White House that forever alters the character of the President's home."

Marie Smith, a Washington reporter who wrote a book on the subject, agrees and points out that the impact has been varied. She says, "Through the years, White House hospitality has been by turns elegant, extravagant, sedate, stinted, formal, flamboyant, prim, puritanical, dignified and at times even rowdy and rambunctious."

Certainly not every commander in chief has approached the dinner table with the same degree of gusto. Some, like Abraham Lincoln and William Henry Harrison, were thin or bound by restrictive diets. Harrison suffered from a digestive disorder and ate very little. Others, like Grover Cleveland who tipped the scales at 250 pounds, and William Howard Taft, whose weight yo-yoed between 300 and 350 pounds, had heartier appetites. (Once Taft told Elihu Root that he had gone for a long horseback ride. Root asked, "How is the horse?")

Some, like Thomas Jefferson and Herbert Hoover, had lavish tastes or were connoisseurs. For Jefferson, Marie Kimball, editor of a collection of his recipes, claims, "The selection of a cook or a maitre d'hotel was given no less thought than the choice of a minister pleni-potentiary." In his first year at the White House, Jefferson, who calculated that he needed 500 bottles of champagne annually, spent almost $11,000, nearly half the president's salary, on wine. Others, most notably Calvin Coolidge, were more frugal. He personally reviewed menus and opted for cheaper breakfast meetings over luncheon meetings. At leaving the White House he said his greatest disappointment was never having discovered what happened to the leftovers. Then there were others, like Ulysses Grant, who simply had simple tastes. He viewed 29-course dinners, the standard during his administration, as something to be merely endured. And at least one president, Theodore Roosevelt, was upset at being labeled a gourmet by the press.

Some were easier to please at the table than others. FDR, who once served hot dogs and baked beans to the King and Queen of England, derisively described White House food as "plain fare, plainly prepared." Lyndon Johnson, when first served a crabmeat salad, sternly told the White House chef, "Take the rest home to your wife." Others, like Dwight Eisenhower, were genuinely interested in cooking and knew their way around the kitchen. Ike prided himself on his homemade soups with typical military detail, his recipe for a plain vegetable version ran more than two pages.

It shouldn't be surprising that White House cuisine fascinates us. The first family is the next best thing we have to royalty and who would decline an invitation to dine with the President? A few do, of course. "Ah, you'd be nuts to come," President Eisenhower once told an invitee who turned him down, but most of us would think it crazy not to show up.

Moreover, at official functions what is on the menu can sometimes be an ingredient of statecraft. Thus, when the Clintons entertained Jiang Zemin of China a couple of years ago, the dessert was a spun-sugar orange filled with orange mousse. According to George magazine, the selection was no accident. Zemin loves oranges, a delicacy in China, and the President was hoping to seal a trade agreement.

Occasionally, such transparent attempts at culinary diplomacy have the potential to backfire. For example, when President Bush hosted Mexican president Carlos Salinas in 1989, a dessert consisting of an adobe house made of sweets was created. Alas, alongside was an edible stereotype: a candy Mexican boy taking a siesta. Fortunately, the president's social secretary realized the politically incorrect nature of the treat and removed it from each plate just in the nick of time.

The potential for a breach of protocol, of course, exists even before the food is served. While most of us would be happy to sit anywhere if lucky enough to get invited to a state dinner, government officials aren't always so accommodating. Thus, during the McKinley administration the chief justice of the United States stormed out of a White House dinner because an ambassador had inadvertently been seated at a higher place of honor than he. The justice vowed never to accept another White House invitation again without first inspecting the seating chart.

Even what the president eats at his private table in the family quarters can have political impact. Consequently, President Ford requested that the sugar bowl be removed from the dining table to show his concern for high sugar prices. It is not unknown for the president's lifestyle to be a campaign issue as it was when Martin Van Buren persisted in lavish entertaining despite the onset of a depression. Even the choice of presidential tableware can have political consequences, as Nancy Reagan discovered not long ago. However, she was hardly the first to have her china policy criticized. People complained that Mary Todd Lincoln thought she was royalty because she ordered purple china for the White House. Eleanor Roosevelt was also chastised for ordering a pattern with the filigree of a rose and three feathers, a foreign coat of arms.

Since John and Abigail Adams first opened the White House to the public 200 years ago, it has been a showcase for what America stands for, in a culinary sense as much as any other. Our new president and first lady will no doubt continue that tradition and put their own stamp on the food served there. So as we unite after a long election campaign and say "Hail to the Chief," let's not forget to say "hail to the chef" as well.

Thomas Jefferson's Pea Soup

Without question Thomas Jefferson was the greatest epicure to ever occupy the White House. Even as president he would often accompany his executive chef to the market to help in selecting supplies. An inveterate gardener, he cultivated some 30 types of peas, his favorite vegetable. This recipe is adapted from "Thomas Jefferson's Cookbook" by Marie Kimball.

Ingredients:

1 cup peas

2 and 1/2 cups water

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1/2 tablespoon chopped parsley

1 tablespoon flour

1 tablespoon butter

2 egg yolks

Directions:

Bring water to a boil and add peas, cooking until tender. Drain peas, reserving water. Puree peas and add back to water with sugar and parsley. Combine flour and butter to form a paste and add to soup to thicken. Beat egg yolks and add to mixture.

Nancy Reagan's Veal Piccata

Mrs. Reagan especially liked veal piccata because it was simple and light, yet elegant enough for state occasions. If you'd rather not use veal, you could substitute chicken breast in this recipe adapted from Henry Haller's "White House Family Cookbook."

Ingredients:

12 slices veal tenderloin

1/2 cup flour

1 tablespoon salt

1/2 teaspoon white pepper

2 eggs

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1 tablespoon chopped parsley

1/4 cup grated Romano cheese

3/4 cup clarified butter

6 thin lemon slices

pinch of paprika

pinch finely chopped parsley

Directions:

Pound veal between sheets of wax paper to a thickness of 1/8 inch. Combine flour, salt, and pepper. Beat eggs with Worcestershire sauce, chopped parsley and cheese. Dredge veal slices in flour mixture, then dip in egg mixture to coat. Saut veal in butter in heavy skillet over medium-high heat until browned, about 3 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels. Sprinkle one half of each lemon slice with paprika and the other with finely chopped parsley and use for garnish.

Bess Truman's Ozark Pudding

Harry Truman preferred home cooking to fancy fare. Though he was most fond of buttermilk pie, Mrs. Truman's favorite dessert was this one, not really a pudding in the traditional sense, but a chewy cake-like concoction, not unlike a dacquoise. Served with ice cream or whipped cream, it can be addictive.

Ingredients:

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups sugar

6 heaping tablespoons flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 cup chopped pecans

1 cup chopped apples

Directions:

Beat eggs. Add sugar gradually, beating until light and fluffy. Combine flour, baking powder and salt and blend into egg mixture. Fold in nuts and apples and spread in a greased 8x11.5-inch pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes.

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