A contest to prepare broccoli for Bush I

Open letter to President George H. W. Bush:

Dear Mr. Ex-President:

Shortly after the end of World War II, I was a hopping around the globe as travel editor for the late, lamented New York Herald Tribune. When I was home you could find me bent over, cultivator in hand, in my garden tending my broccoli calabrese and other veggies.

Now I know you are not a fan of broccoli, so please bear with me. During my travels, I always made a point of chatting up local professors of agriculture for my garden columns.

I asked what the people liked best that was grown locally and what foods they imported in large quantities. And was their diet healthy?

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My tour of Poland was the most surprising. I had expected that war-torn nation’s university to be housed in a decaying building. But no, the university was outside the city and the dean of agriculture greeted me in a beautiful large office with wainscoting that reminded me of Yale. A small table was set with a snow white table cloth, topped by a British-style tea service.

The professor greeted me effusively. “Do come in. I love Americans. I spent a year at Cornell University and made many friends.�

That was my first surprise. When we got to talking about the Polish diet, I noted that they may not have had much meat yet, but on my tour to the mountains on the southern border I passed mile after mile of women harvesting potatoes.

“So the people can’t be starving. Before their famine, the Irish ate potatoes three times a day.�

“Ah, yes,� he replied. “It would appear we grow enough potatoes to feed every Polish man, woman and child.� He hesitated and sighed: “Unfortunately, only half the potatoes are eaten.�

I was puzzled. “And what happens to the rest of the potatoes? Feed them to the hogs?�

He replied: “Vodka.� Then he added quickly, “But have you noticed that our climate is similar to that of England, cool and rainy? Ideal for growing the one vegetable that is power packed with vitamins and minerals.�

You guessed it, Mr. President, and I can see you making a face. He said, “Broccoli. But we can’t convince the Polish people to eat broccoli. They just don’t like it.�

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Finally, I am getting to the point. In these dire economic times, the call has gone out from Washington for we Americans to plant backyard home gardens, similar to the Victory Gardens of the war in which you so heroically served.

So I propose that you announce a national contest for the most tasty recipe that includes broccoli as one of its main ingredients and is entirely agreeable to your taste buds.

I haven’t figured out all the details, but the contest would go something like this: Entries will be sent to culinary institutes or agriculture extension services. They will winnow out the obvious losers and send the state winner to the Food Network, where its experts will further trim the contestants to only 25.

Then we will have three or maybe six of the top chefs in the country slash the entries to the three best, chefs like Jacques Pepin of Connecticut, Wolfgang Puck of California and one of your favorites, Tom Perini of the Texas Perini Ranch Steakhouse.

And here is where you enter: You will be asked to taste the entries of the three finalists and help the judges pick the winner. You will have to like the broccoli recipe or all bets are off.

I am asking you to do this because we have an obesity problem that leads to fatal health problems. Americans have to eat more vegetables, e.g., more broccoli.

The final winner will be summoned to Kennebunkport, where you will award him or her the grand prize.

The Lakeville Journal, a prestigious weekly in the Litchfield Hills of Connecticut, will adopt the contest and report on its progress from start to finish.

And the citizens of our great country, and maybe the solid burghers of Poland, will hail you for your vision and concern for their health and well being.

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Thank you for your attention. And as my sainted Mother used to say, “Be well and do well.�

Most sincerely,

Barnett D. Laschever

Travel and Garden Writer

Sunken Creek Farm

Goshen, Conn.

Freelance writer Barnett Laschever, the curmudgeon of Goshen, is the author of five children’s books, co-author of “Connecticut, An Explorer’s Guide� and writes a column for The Lakeville Journal, “The Ranting Retiree.�

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