Word: salade
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...German wit L. A. Feuerbach observed, is what he eats. The culinary tastes of Presidents may bear out that maxim. Under Dwight Eisenhower, a state dinner, served with military precision, might feature such Army-wife specialties as Mamie's cherished Chicken Jewel Salad Ring, a cloying confection that included cranberries, celery and almonds, epoxied with gelatin. During the Kennedy Administration, the sumptuary menus seemed intended to rate a star or two from Michelin. Lyndon Johnson introduced Texas ranch-house-chili cuisine to the White House...
...railroad stations are the basis of a chain of classic-building dining places. A San Francisco-based corporation owns 29 Victoria Station restaurants across the U.S. (nine more are being completed); guests dine inside 50-ft.-long boxcars, salad is served from old baggage carts, brakemen's lanterns light the tables, and a treasury of railroad relics line the walls. To ensure an ample supply of artifacts, the company has just bought the entire East Grinstead Station in England, well known to Sherlock Holmes fans...
...least, Ford seems able to handle the arduous demands of the presidency. At 61, he weighs 203, only four pounds over his football-playing weight; he stays in shape by two daily 20-minute swims and occasional rounds of golf (scoring in the 90s). He limits lunch to a salad or cottage cheese with ketchup, though he occasionally succumbs to ice cream. No teetotaler, he likes to polish off a hard day's politicking with two or three dry martinis with a pair of olives in each. Ford's colleagues are astounded by his stamina. He has been known...
...combined entourage of 84. Like four affable, affluent businessmen bound for a Sunday afternoon of pro football, C. S. N. & Y. travel from hotel to concert in the comfort of an air-conditioned Winnebago motor home. Elaborate picnic barbecues precede each concert, with a catered steak-and-salad dinner served afterward...
...that come from the heart, and that gives his verse the luster of beauty. These magic dewdrops need not be stimulated by real life events. On the contrary, we suspect that the poet sometimes squeezes his heart with the same detachment as a housewife squeezing a lemon over her salad...