THE EDUCATION OF ROSE DAWSON: PART
II
Chapter
Nine
Concoction
After breaking
from her conversation with
“One
of my specialties…and one of Ammie’s favorites. It’s called Chirish Beef Stew.”
Rose laughed. “Chirish? As in
Chinese and Irish?”
“Right. Beef stew is an
old Irish favorite, but here, I’ve added other ingredients to give it a slight
Chinese flavor. It’s something I learned after living in
“Very
interesting. But what are those ingredients?” Rose pointed at the
unfamiliar looking vegetables that Jenny had bought at the
“The fatter
vegetables are a type of cabbage the Chinese call bok choy. Ammie loves them and we’re lucky to have them at this time of year. The long, thin vegetables are scallions. They’re used
as an herb and have a strong onion-like flavor.”
“Mmm. This looks like another good meal. Do you need any help preparing
it?”
“How much
cooking experience do you have?”
“Very
little.” Practically
none, to be exact.
Jenny tried to
figure out what Rose could do. “Why don’t you start by separating the bok choy into leaves and stems before
washing it? Then cut three slices from this piece of ginger I’m going to give
you.” She went to the pantry and took out a piece of used ginger and a bulb of
garlic. “Help me take out five cloves from this piece of garlic, peel them, and
dice each clove into little pieces.” She went to another cabinet and produced a
small knife, a tiny mallet, a bowl, and a cup, and then sat Rose down at a
table and gave her a brief lesson on how to take apart the bok
choy, which Rose learned quickly. Following that, Jenny
used the mallet to pummel a clove of garlic to make it easier to peel before
using the knife to demonstrate how to dice one clove of garlic. Then she handed
both to Rose. “Can you do all this?”
“I can certainly
try.”
“Good, but be
careful. And when you’re done, separate the ingredients and put the bok choy into the bowl and the
garlic into the cup. The ginger you can hand to me.” Jenny then resumed her
part of the meal preparation.
Rose embarked on
her very first real attempt at making a meal. Preparing the bok
choy for cooking was not too hard, but it was
laborious. After carefully separating the leaves from the stems, sometimes
using the knife to assist her, she brought the pieces to a small tub filled
with water, which Jenny had prepared for her, and immersed them into the tub
before rubbing off any dirt that was left from each piece. Having finished with
the bok choy, she proceeded
to the ginger, from which she slowly cut three slices. The garlic was the
trickiest of all, since its cloves were so small. Rose struck and almost cut
her fingers when hammering and dicing each clove, but managed to come away
unscathed.
After she was
done, Rose separated the items into the bowl and the cup and brought them to
Jenny, who had taken out some new ingredients, among them a jar of tomatoes, from the icebox
and pantry and assembled them on a small table next to her. She also handed
Jenny the three slices of ginger, and Jenny placed all three ingredients on the
table along with the other items.
She was
impressed by Rose’s handiwork. “Not bad, Rose, not bad at
all. I see how much care you’ve put into preparing these ingredients –
as if you were an artist.”
“Thank you,
Jenny. I hope I can continue to improve my cooking skills.”
“Don’t worry,
you will.” Jenny then poured a light brown liquid into a large cooking utensil
with a curved bottom and loop handles on either side. It was also accompanied
by a long metal spatula. Then she fired up the stove. As the utensil’s bottom
could not rest by itself on top of the stove, it was supported by a large metal
ring that was fitted over the stove.
Rose eyed the
utensil with much curiosity. “I have never seen this kind of pan before.”
“It’s called a wok. Used in Chinese
cooking for ages and handier than our frying pans. And this spatula that
goes with it is a wok chaan.
They complement each other nicely.” Jenny showed how by digging the spatula’s
curved edge into the wok’s curved bottom. Then she commenced preparation of the
stew.
CHIRISH BEEF STEW
Ingredients
¼ cup of beef or pork drippings (lard or the new Crisco shortening are alternatives)
1-1½ lbs. of beef for stewing, cut into 1-inch
pieces
5 large garlic cloves, minced
5 cups of beef stock
¼ stick of butter
¼ cup of Guinness beer
¼ cup of bo lay tea
2 whole tomatoes*, peeled
1½ lbs. of bok choy*
(with stems separated from the leaves)
1 tablespoon of soy sauce
1 tablespoon of dried thyme
1 tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce
2 lbs. of potatoes*, peeled, cut into ½-inch pieces (about 6 cups)
1 large onion*, chopped
2 cups of carrots* chopped and peeled into ½-inch pieces
Salt and pepper
½ cup of chopped fresh scallions*
3 slices of fresh ginger*
(*seasonal –
exclude if not available)
Preparation
Heat the drippings in the wok over medium-high heat. Add beef and sauté for about five minutes or until the beef is brown on all sides. Add garlic and sauté for one minute. Add beef stock, Guinness, tea, tomatoes, soy sauce, thyme, Worcestershire sauce, and ginger. Stir to combine. Bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and then cover and simmer for an hour, stirring occasionally while gently rocking the wok round and round.
While the meat and stock are simmering, melt butter in a large pot over
medium heat. Add potatoes, onion, carrots, and bok choy. Sauté vegetables for about 20 minutes or until they
are golden brown (although the bok choy should be ready before it turns brown, in which case
move it away from the center of the pot to avoid overcooking it). Turn off the
fire and cover the pot until the stew has simmered for one hour.
Add the vegetables to the beef stew. Simmer uncovered for about 40
minutes or until the vegetables and beef are very tender. Discard the ginger
slices (if you can find them) and add salt. Transfer the stew to serving bowls
and sprinkle with scallions. Cool slightly, add pepper to taste, and serve.
Feeds two to four hungry people.
Rose saw an
opened bottle of Guinness, her first sight of one since the steerage party, and
a small teapot among the ingredients that Jenny had readied. “Are those for
drinking or cooking?”
“I’m putting
some of each into the stew. They make it taste better, believe it or not. The
Irish like to add beer to their stews, and I also started adding the tea after
enjoying it in the Chinese restaurant and wondering how it would taste in a
dish.”
“That sounds
very original, Jenny. I enjoyed the tea at the restaurant, too. I am sure it
will make the stew taste better.”
“If you can’t
get enough of it, we’ll also be having tea and Guinness with our meal.”
*****
After about an
hour of preparing the vegetables and stew for cooking, Jenny mixed the two
together in the wok and allowed the stove to take over. Tired, she took a chair
in the living room and invited Rose to join her.
“This is one of
the few times I can rest during the day. Ammie’s
taking his usual late afternoon nap before supper, so it’s quieter. If it
weren’t for your help, Rose, I’d be tired enough to join him.” Jenny placed her
hand on Rose’s. “Thank you.”
“This does not
even begin to compensate you and
Jenny sighed and
wiped her brow. “Like
Not to mention leaving my former life behind. “Thank you,
Jenny,” Rose acknowledged before dipping her head after being reminded of Jack
again.
“Oh, I’m sorry
again, Rose. Please forgive me.”
“I think I will
be fine.”
Jenny squeezed
Rose’s hand. “Don’t despair so much. You’re strong, I can tell. You remind me a
little of myself when I was your age. Right down to the
hair.”
“The
hair?”
“You have
beautiful red hair, Rose. That’s what caught my eye in Union Square that day –
right after you had that unfortunate run-in with the manure,” teased Jenny. She
went to a drawer, took out an old photo album, and opened it for Rose’s
perusal. It contained pictures of Jenny and
(L-R)
“I believe you,
Jenny, and there is nothing wrong with your hair now,” reassured Rose, who took
some time to admire that and other pictures in the album. “Why does
“Gangsters, even
former ones, always want to look fierce to warn off their rivals. Then again, Ammie never did like taking pictures because he had to pose
for a few at Hellgate. He treated cameras more as intrusions
into his privacy than as preservers of old memories, which weren’t too happy
for him, as you know. He’s matured over the years, but he still doesn’t like
cameras.”
“That is
understandable. But both of you have aged well over the years, so you ought to
preserve a few memories.”
Jenny smiled at
the compliment. “Yes, we’ve somehow found a way to remain fresh and clean as an
Irish Spring – for the most part. Must be the time we spent in Tir Na NÓg – the land of eternal youth.” Then she turned glum. “When I was
little, almost everyone in the Five Points adored my hair, especially my
mother. Red has a way of stimulating people, and I needed all the advantages I
could get in that environment.”
Most people adored my hair, too, especially father. “You mean in
order to survive?”
“Right, just
like what you’re doing now, but I had to do it earlier and in tougher
circumstances. Ammie was lucky enough to be sent to Hellgate, but I…I was orphaned at twelve and left to fend
for myself. Then Bill took me in and protected me, and that’s when I began a
life of crime and vice.”
“And you made
your money by robbing people.”
“Part
of it. I was also Bill’s target girl – his ‘Butcher’s Apprentice’.
Remember this?” Jenny pointed to the faint scar on her neck, to which Rose
nodded. “I did that to partly compensate Bill for not having to pay him
tribute. Then there was stargazing.”
“What is that?”
“Besides being a
thief and a showgirl, I was a prostitute.”
Shocked by
Jenny’s revelation, Rose could only stare at her in silence. Jenny, aware of
the kind of reaction her disclosure would generate, explained herself as best
as she could. “That’s how it was, Rose. If you think the opportunities for
Chinese men are few today, imagine how many choices motherless Irish girls had
in the Five Points back then.”
“I probably
cannot imagine. So, clients tended to prefer your...red hair?”
“Well, it stood
out, and it wasn’t long before they started asking for ‘Miss Everdeane, who’s never routine’ or ‘Miss Everdeane, with hair that’s aflame and no two acts the
same’.” Jenny chuckled lightly. “They were my advertising slogans. I was
unpredictable with my clients, even the regular ones, and they loved it.”
“But there were
risks, were there not?”
“Of
course. Stargazing is a dangerous job, and I had to be careful. Some
clients would beat you if they were drunk or if you couldn’t satisfy them,
while others would beat you just to rob you.” Jenny suddenly stopped and let
out a smug smile. “But then, I robbed them, too, when I had the chance, and I
had to be prepared for retribution if they caught me. That’s why Bill taught me
some close quarter fighting moves – but never so much that they could be used
on him whenever he wanted me for himself.”
“Did Bill…t-take
advantage of you?”
“Never. I was always
his when he so desired. But he once made me pregnant by accident, and they cut
me open to remove the fetus. But they did a bad job, so I was scarred for life.
After that, I was no longer one of his favorites.”
“The
pain in your stomach.”
“Right. But Bill still
looked after me, and I was still his target girl. I didn’t stop until after he
almost killed Ammie. Then I joined the Rabbits for a
while, but I saw that their war with the Natives would never end, so I decided
to leave for
Rose listened
with a mixture of awe and humility before offering a weak reaction. “It is hard
for me to envisage what you went through, Jenny, because I do not think I could
ever perform most of those jobs you held. Just this morning, I promised the
spirit of my husband that I would never become a prostitute regardless of my
circumstances, even if it means sleeping on the street.”
“Would you
rather beg once you’re on the street, Rose? You’re better than that. If you
think about it, we’re all prostitutes. If you work for the money, you’re a
prostitute. What’s different is which parts of our bodies we use, but in the
end, we all sacrifice our flesh and minds to survive.”
Rose was struck
by Jenny’s definition. “That…is very astute, Jenny.”
“Still, I’d hope
no more girls would ever have to subject their bodies and minds to such
torture, but I still see it today. Some things just never change.” Jenny shook
her head, but soon gave Rose a look that hinted at pride. “But such an
existence taught me something very important, and that’s to never abandon a
goal you’ve set for yourself.
“Even
at the cost of your life?”
“Yes, and that
was foolish of me now that I look back. I still remember that day. I’d left Ammie and was trying to catch my boat, but was surrounded
by rioters just short of the waterfront. One of them clubbed me in the stomach
– injuring it again – before punching my face and knocking loose one of my
teeth. I tried hard not to lose consciousness. Then they tried to steal my
belongings, so I took out my pistol and shot one of them – a woman. I didn’t
want to do it, but she pulled out a knife and it was either her or me.”
“So, you had to
kill, too.”
“A
fellow Irishwoman, to be exact. I hated it because we were both trapped
in the same, rotten system we couldn’t change. I tried to fight it by running
away, while she resorted to preying on her own people. In the end, the riot
disrupted the sailing schedules, so I couldn’t go to
Rose sat there
silently and acknowledged that however harsh her life had been thus far, it was
nothing compared to Jenny’s ordeal at the same age. “That was very fortunate of
you, and I am happy you realized your goal. But were you able to have children
again?”
“No,
not after hurting my stomach area again. It was just too risky for me.
Besides, we probably wouldn’t have made such wonderful parents, given our
chaotic lives here and there.”
“You re-aggravated
the wound when you tried to help me yesterday. I feel responsible for that.”
“Nonsense,
that’s the trickster’s fault. Don’t burden yourself with this guilt, Rose. Some
scars never fully heal, so I treat mine as reminders of all the challenges I’ve
survived.”
Rose brightened
up a little. “Those are several lifetimes’ worth of challenges for most
people.”
“Yes, but
remember you said some adversity in our lives wouldn’t hurt. If it doesn’t kill
you, it makes you stronger.”
“Yes, you are so
right.” More than you know. “But what
did you think of
Jenny thought
for a few seconds before answering. “I think I had a slightly easier time there
than Ammie. My line of work was easier, so I didn’t
have to change jobs as often as he. There were still some dangerous moments, as
he told you, but being a hotel maid and nurse was safer than being a bouncer
and runner. As for sewing, my mother taught me some needlework before she died.
We were poor and had to patch our clothes. Then Ammie
let me practice on him because he’d come home with open wounds I had to stitch
up. But just as he couldn’t completely escape his past, I couldn’t just throw
away everything I learned in
“For
the two of you to cooperate with the law after running from it? Yes, that is
hard to believe.”
“Exactly. But we never
really lost our suspicions of authority. That’s why I have some doubts about
being a witness if they ever catch the trickster’s partner. The police here are
as corrupt as ever, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they only give him a rap on
the knuckles or free him without punishment.” Jenny smiled at Rose so as to not
dampen her spirits. “Don’t worry, Rose. I agreed to help you and I’ll keep my
word.”
“I do appreciate
that, Jenny.”
*****
The last forty
minutes elapsed quite quickly, and Jenny went to the stove to check on the stew
while Rose pondered her brief, first-hand account of the world’s oldest
profession. The words, “we’re all prostitutes,” were still fresh in her head.
Over the last three weeks, she had been exposed to the concept of prostitution
three times, with each time less abstract than the last – first on her
birthday, when she bought an inexpensive replica of Les
Demoiselles d'Avignon, which was Picasso’s depiction of prostitutes;
second on the morning of April thirteenth, when Jack showed her his drawings of
a prostitute whose hands he adored; and now Jenny, a former prostitute in the
flesh.
In other words, she was
gradually able to put a human face on a trade that was usually looked down
upon, even by its clientele, and develop some respect for those who provided
the service. If everyone was a whore for money, as Jenny alleged, then everyone
deserved condemnation.
The stew was
done, so Jenny began to set a table for supper. Rose helped her with that – another
task she rarely performed at home in
Rose, trying to
summon the discipline she learned in finishing school, tried hard to keep
herself from salivating again. The food smelled good, which further whetted her
anticipation at trying the first meal she had a significant hand in preparing.
In honor of her being the guest, Jenny wanted to serve her first, but she
wanted
The food tasted
as good as it smelled. The dinnerware and surroundings were a bit more frugal
than what existed at the Bukater House, Delmonico’s,
or in First Class on board Titanic,
but Rose did not recall the last time a meal at any of these places was this
simple and yet so good. All the
satisfying meals she had eaten in recent memory were taken in relatively
pedestrian locations – the Third Class dining saloon on Titanic, the dining hall in the Women’s Rescue Home, on the grounds
of Wave Hill with Mrs. Dearborn, Katz’s Deli, and Mon Lay Won – that, with the
exception of Wave Hill, few members of her former class would patronize, and
there was still the big party in Titanic’s
Third Class General Room. The dining atmosphere of a place was more important
to her than its décor, no matter how ornate it was, and the current one soon
made Rose forget most of her table manners, as she enjoyed the meal as
boisterously as possible.
Jenny put up a
reassuring hand. “Don’t worry, Rose. I’ve tasted worse.” She rolled her tongue
through her mouth and, having tasted no blood, accepted a glass of water
Rose immediately
felt guilty. “I served that piece to you, Jenny. It is my fault.”
“No, it isn’t. I
was dealt a bad hand this time.” Seeing that Rose’s concern was slow to abate,
Jenny tried to soothe her fears. “Remember, if it doesn’t kill you, it makes
you stronger.”