Mom's cool desserts are favorites

ANTOINETTE JACKSON Mangia! Mangia!

When I was a child listening to oldtimers talk about how things were better in their day, I said to myself that I would never do that when I got older.

But, I must admit, when I was growing up our milk bottles were definitely better.

When you first look at today's milk container, a plastic quart bottle seems innocent enough.

The square and boxy shape is designed to keep it from slipping out of your hand.

The replaceable snap-on cap keeps the contents fresh.

And the label gives a plethora of detailed information about its Whole, 2 percent or fat-free watery contents.

But did you ever place the plastic container next to a glass bottle from the mid- 1940's?

The glass is clear and the contents are visibly creamy white.

The container is balanced and gracefully formed, making it easy to pour. The only writing on the bottle is "One quart liquid" "Made in USA" and the brand name.

The milk inside the glass bottle looks good enough to drink.

Call me overly nostalgic, but I prefer the quart bottle free of nutrition facts.

It reminds me of a simpler day when a milk delivery truck was common in our Chicago neighborhood and milk was just plain milk.

There was a bit of magic when my mother left a checked order card and empty bottles on the back porch.

Early the next morning the Wanzer milkman, dressed in a starched white shirt, white pants and a black-billed military style cap, drove through the neighborhoods delivering dairy products.

His wire basket was stocked with quart bottles, fresh eggs and butter.

He left whatever my mother requested and brought the empty bottles back to the dairy for recycling.

Some days, there was a quarter-inch or so of rich, golden cream just under the cardboard cap.

Mom would let me dip my clean finger into the bottle and ream it out before she put the milk into the icebox.

Nothing tasted better.

And, we really did have an icebox. During Word War II, factories diverted the production of kitchen appliances to the war effort.

We were fortunate to have a vintage icebox in our basement, in addition to the 5 cubic foot GE "monitor top" refrigerator in our home.

When we needed block ice for our box, Mom put a four-sided sign in the window with the number of pounds she wanted facing upward.

That alerted the dark green and black ice truck to stop in front of our house.

I often watched from the dining room window as the muscular iceman grabbed the 50-pound block of ice with his giant pincher, threw it over his shoulder protected by a rubber apron and carried it into our basement.

Our icebox was made out of heavy oak panels, had hollow walls and was lined with tin that had a uniquely pungent odor I can remember to this day.

There were four separate compartments in our two-door box. The iceman put the block of ice in the top left compartment to keep the food in the other three compartments cold.

As the block melted, the water drained into a pan that always seemed to need emptying and overflowed onto the basement floor.

Soon after the war ended, Daddy began a major remodel of the first floor of our house.

My mother had a large state-of-the-art kitchen with the latest appliances.

She could now store a week's worth of groceries in our 12 cubic foot Philco refrigerator with trays to make its own ice.

Our Tappan range had an oven large enough to hold a big pan of lasagna and an angel food cake at the same time, if she wanted.

But other than the occasional applesauce cake or stovetop pineapple upsidedown cake, Mom continued to prefer the refrigerator for our family desserts.

She didn't mind cooking a six-course meal, but her desserts were something simple like fresh fruit, pudding or Jell-O with cling peaches or, on special occasions, what Grandma called "ice-a-box-a-cake."

Today, oak iceboxes are long gone; milk in glass bottles rare, but my Mom's cool desserts are still my favorites.

Because, like my mother, I too prefer not to bake.

Mom's Icebox Cake

This dessert is named after the oldfashioned food-cooling device. Simple to prepare, yet special in appearance, it's the classic no-bake dessert.

30 Lady Fingers, sliced in half 1 large box vanilla pudding, prepared 1 large box chocolate pudding prepared

2 bananas, sliced

8 ounces whipped cream (or Cool Whip)

Line the sides and bottom of a spring form pan with Lady Fingers. Pour in half of the prepared vanilla pudding. Top with sliced bananas and a layer of Ladyfingers.

Repeat procedure until all ingredients, except whipped cream, are used up.

Chill in refrigerator for at least twelve hours.

Just before serving, carefully remove dessert from the pan and top with whipped cream.

Serves 4 to 6.

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Antoinette Jackson is a Bullard-area resident. You may reach her at Antojxn@aol.com.