Word: salad
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After a light lunch (V8 juice, salad, milk), the candidate sprawled on a couch in the green-walled, flower-choked living room of the Roosevelt's Suite 1527-29, relaxed and confident. As he has every election night of his career, he and his family dined at the home of Roger Straus, banker and longtime Dewey adviser. Then, flanked by his wife, his two sons, his mother (who had come from Owosso to be with her son at his great moment) and aides Elliott Bell and Paul Lockwood, he settled himself in his suite with a pad of yellow...
...anyone who has struggled over his own ham and tomato salad, the size and scope of operations in the main kitchen are appalling. Entering by the main receiving gate, you are at once confronted by rows of trucks piled high with sides of meat and sacks of potatoes. As you wander through the passageways, you see stainless steel cauldrons 'filled with soup stock; huge insulated cold storage rooms; and massive east-iron ranges sheltered under bulky smoke hoods...
...comparative prices, a meal of shrimps, wine, tomato and potato salad, more wine, steak and, of course, French fried potatoes and more wine, and cheese for dessert costs a dollar at any of the restaurants off the large boulevards. Movies range from a dime to a dollar, the opera four times a week can be enjoyed for thirty cents, the Folies start at sixty-five, and exhibitions for five run around a buck and a half each. These are computed at the legal rate of exchange of 3000 francs to the dollar...
...polished writer nor a knowing crystal-gazer. But brawny Irving Kupcinet (pronounced CUP-senate) had proved, to the satisfaction of Marshall Field's Chicago Sun-Times, that one good local columnist will outsell all the syndicated canned goods on the market. "Kup's Column," a casually tossed salad of chitchat and nightclub gossip with a Leonard Lyons-like flavor, is easily the most widely read feature in Chicago...
...stirs through the perspiring crowd. Three young men try hard: a bright-eyed British captain, a young American diplomat and a blond, slightly bewildered-looking Russian lieutenant who apparently speaks some English. The American has his hands in his pockets as the other two systematically spoon up their mixed salad. Says the British captain: "I've only been here two months but I really do like it . . . We certainly don't get food like this at home." To this the young Russian nods understandingly and vigorously and says simply: "Me too." All seems to be going splendidly...