Chicken Every Sunday by Rosemary Taylor, with Donald Mackay, illustrator. Blakiston, 1944. Hardcover.
Reading When Books Went to War, about the armed forces editions during WWII, I discovered this was one of the most popular books among troops. I’m not sure I’d ever heard of it, let alone read it, so I found a copy at the library.
It’s a memoir of a family living in Tucson in the Thirties and early Forties. The father is a wheeler-dealer, often quite successful, always looking for his next business venture. The mother, always remembering her hardscrabble early years as the daughter of plantation owners ruined by the Civil War, makes her own money by taking in boarders and catering, often with what was then considered Mexican food for various parties, groups and charities. Their three children, including the author, contribute to the various family enterprises with varying degrees of enthusiasm and skill.
The tone of the book is lighthearted, the contrast between the big-dreamer father and the penny-pinching mother is funny, rarely bitter. The various boarders and their peculiarities are described with amused affection. There were school teachers, people connected with the mining business, Easterners sent to Arizona for the healthy climate. The author’s family took them in and made them part of the family for a couple of weeks or months, in a strange mixture of hospitality and commercial acumen. There are some really funny episodes, such as the time when Mother and the maid suspect that one of their boarders might be a German spy, or when a retired Easterner decides to go on a mine-prospecting trip with Father.
It’s important to remember that in the early 20th century, Tucson was still a brand-new city, and that many people had personal memories of the Civil War. People were still trying to get gold out of abandoned mines, and the city was developing and growing. So although there is a lot of hustle and bustle in the book, there are moments where the sense of connection with the past is marked.
Some modern readers may find common expressions of the time offensive, such as referring to a black cook as Mammy, but enlightened readers should be able to accept such. Sure, the book is dated, but that’s part of the fun. I’m glad I read this one.
Tip the Wink 
I do remember reading about this book in When Books Went to War, and it sounds like a good read. I will have to look around for a copy, I am surprised you found one through your library.
I guess it’s considered enough of a classic they still have it in circulation.
Sounds dreadful to me. I’ll pass.
Admittedly not for everyone, Steve. I was curious about it after the reaction the troops had to it.
I like the idea of a view of Tucson 100 years ago. It does sound interesting.
Having lived there for a couple of years, reading about the city then was part of the enjoyment.
Like Tracy, I remember the mention made about CHICKEN EVERY SUNDAY in WHEN BOOKS WENT TO WAR. Time to track down a copy…
Your library may have it, George.
It sounds charming. These period pieces are precious even if you have to grimace occasionally.
It’s in the vein of I Remember Mama, sort of. I enjoyed it.
I certainly read this kind of humorous family narrative a lot when I was young, as they were widely made available (not least by Scholastic Book Services, but also in Bantam Pathfinder editions and the like) in the ’70s (and leftover from the ’60s). Probably the last I recall reading was Thurber’s acerbic MY LIFE AND HARD TIMES, rather more self-aware (though not completely) than some. I can certainly see why young GIs might check into it.