Chicken Every Sunday: My Life with Mother's Boarders

Chicken Every Sunday is a marvelous little book. I first heard of it in the pages of When Books Went to War; it was described as being one of the absolute favorite Armed Services Editions, one that simply could not be published fast enough to meet the demand of the troops wanting to read Rosemary Taylor's memoir. As Books author Molly Guptill Manning explained, the troops craved not only Taylor's descriptions of the home front, but also and especially her descriptions of mealtimes. And no wonder.

Taylor's family, the Drachmans, were a family unlike most others. Her mother was a Claiborne from Virginia (an FFV, or First Family of Virginia, as Taylor explains) who had been weaned on a former plantation in the immediate post-Civil War South. Taylor's father grew up in one of Arizona's original pioneer families. The pair of them, and their three children - of whom Rosemary is the oldest - are wonderfully entertaining. More than the Drachman's though, are the boarders: since before Rosemary's birth, Mr. and Mrs. Drachman had boarders, both as a service, if you will to early visitors to the territory (for there were no good hotels in those early days before statehood), as well as to earn additional income (primarily on the part of Mrs. Drachman, who saw her husband's get-rich-quick-schemes for what they were).

Yes, the boarders. As Taylor wrote, "One of the boarders who ate Mother's chicken every Sunday summed it up when he said, "I was told that in your house I'd have good food and some fun." They all had fun, and they all became part of the family -- Jeffrey, who lost his front teeth and won his independence, Rita Vlasak, who loved anything in pants, including Father, Miss Sally, who loved Miss Sally and cold cream, the Lathams, who bought a mine, and even the hell-bent-for-heaven Woolleys, who were sure God had sent the skunk to hide under the house because the family didn't go to church on Sunday." Taylor's gift is for bringing them all to life, making the reader today as much a part of the family as the boarder's were 100 years ago.

All of which is to say, they don't make books like this anymore. Cheaper By the Dozen, The Situation in Flushing, All Creatures Great and Small, they are memoirs in the same vein as this one. If you read and loved any of them, Chicken Every Sunday will be soup for your soul; if you read this one and want more of the same, any of the others will provide the same sustenance.