Finances are tight for the O’Dwyer family who live on a mountain outside of Scranton, Pennsylvania in 1931. Life gets even harder when their beloved Dadaà must cease work as a coal miner to become a patient at the West Mountain Sanitarium.
Nellie is her preferred name, but family and friends have heard Mam shout “Fenella Aileen O’Dwyer!” all too often with the countless predicaments she got herself into throughout childhood. So, it’s not altogether surprising when Nellie impulsively accepts a job as an assistant cook at the Clarinda House in a case of mistaken identity -- though she’s the last person her family would ask to prepare a meal.
Fortunately, along with determination, a talent for acting, and the gift of blarney, Nellie has Mrs. Canfield’s Cookery Book, a treasure she discovered at a Red Cross drought relief sale. As her reluctant admiration for her employer grows, Nellie wishes she could be the truthful woman of faith that Mr. Mason Peale esteems. If she confesses all, will she lose her job along with the friendships she’s formed at Clarinda House?
Finances are tight for the O’Dwyer family who live on a mountain outside of Scranton, Pennsylvania in 1931. Life gets even harder when their beloved Dadaà must cease work as a coal miner to become a patient at the West Mountain Sanitarium.
Nellie is her preferred name, but family and friends have heard Mam shout “Fenella Aileen O’Dwyer!” all too often with the countless predicaments she got herself into throughout childhood. So, it’s not altogether surprising when Nellie impulsively accepts a job as an assistant cook at the Clarinda House in a case of mistaken identity -- though she’s the last person her family would ask to prepare a meal.
Fortunately, along with determination, a talent for acting, and the gift of blarney, Nellie has Mrs. Canfield’s Cookery Book, a treasure she discovered at a Red Cross drought relief sale. As her reluctant admiration for her employer grows, Nellie wishes she could be the truthful woman of faith that Mr. Mason Peale esteems. If she confesses all, will she lose her job along with the friendships she’s formed at Clarinda House?
Â
“Why is it the more foolish it is to make a purchase,” Nellie groaned, “the more I yearn to make it?” She hid the small leather purse under the corner of a dusty stadium blanket. She was only there to buy something cookery-related for her sister’s hope chest, but oh how she admired that purse.
“Bless your heart. If you walk away, I’ll be taking that treasure home.”  A young woman sniggered as she playfully nabbed the three inches of strap dangling over the table's edge.
“Please claim the purse. Take away the temptation.” Nellie felt an equal measure of relief and disappointment. The beautifully embossed purse with a gunmetal frame was almost identical to one Clara Bow carried in a film she’d seen at the Ritz Theatre.
“I was just foolin’ with you. My sweetheart and me are saving to buy a dear little home outside the city. Priorities, ya know.” Nellie coveted the pretty brunette’s strong Southern accent.
“Oh, I have priorities too. My mother sent me to buy my twin a birthday and engagement gift. And if a purchase didn’t support the Drought Relief Fund, I doubt she’d even justify buying a secondhand item with a dual purpose. Alas, frugality is a must for the O’Dwyer family,” Nellie ended with a dramatic sigh.
“Moneys are tight for just about everyone nowadays.”
Nellie shrugged. She dug the purse back out and admired the floral tooling once again.
Her new rummage-sale acquaintance chuckled and winked. “Well, your birthday is just as soon as your twin’s, I suppose. You could consider the purse a gift to yourself.” She looked at her wristwatch. “Oh dear, I best be heading to work and leave you to your decidin’!”
Nellie grinned, her blue-grey eyes full of friendliness. “Are you a Globe gal by any chance? I’m heading there this afternoon for an interview.”
“Aww, I wish I were! I work at Woolworth’s. If you get the job, I’d be so pleased if we could luncheon together. I’m Mildred, by the way.”
“So nice to meet you! My name is Fenella.” Nellie wrinkled her nose. She still wondered what Mam had been thinking despite nearly two decades of getting used to her name. “But everyone calls me Nellie.” While talking, Nellie absentmindedly opened the small clutch and felt the silk inside. Near the bottom, she discovered a hard bump in the lining. “Hmm. There’s something in here.”
Mildred drew closer as Nellie detected a tear in the edging and put one finger behind to fish the object out.
In her palm lay an ornate brooch with a border of pearls held together by silver, with clusters of tiny diamonds in the middle. Nellie drew in her breath at its beauty.
“Finders keepers, losers weepers, they say,” Mildred whispered. She moved to the side of Nellie as if to hide her from the matrons receiving money for customers’ purchases at a table by the door.Â
“No matter the hard times, I’d have to at least try to find the rightful owner. Even if I didn’t have a conscience of my own, Mam and Daidà would have one for me. Why they’d move us all to the Ransom poor farm before profiting from what belongs to someone else.”
“I know how it is to have sanctimonious relatives. That’s why I’m here, livin’ almost 1,000 miles away from my family. But since you’re determined to do the right thing, I’ll let you know I overheard a lady say the Peale family donated the fanciest items. You know the family that lives in that gorgeous Greystone on Jefferson Avenue? Just down from the Woolworth Mansion?”
Of course, Nellie knew of whom Mildred was speaking. No doubt, anyone living in Lackawanna County knew of the Peales. The Peale women were often mentioned in the society pages of The Tribune. And one couldn’t avoid familiarity with the Glen Alden Mining Company they had ties to -- especially now that the company was involved in a lawsuit over whether they must pave the miles of public roads their heavy trucks abused.Â
“I can see the gears in your brain are a-whirlin,” Mildred whispered. “You surely will make a lovely Robinhood-ette. Think how much their carelessness could help your family, and hurry and put the brooch back in the purse before anybody sees it. And now, I’d better hurry.” She looked at her watch again and scuttled away, calling a goodbye over her shoulder.
Not for a moment was she tempted, despite Mildred’s assumption. Nellie had many failings. So many that as a child, she’d prayed every night for the Good Lord to help her get through the next day without earning a swatting. But keeping what didn’t belong to her was never among her faults. However, she couldn’t help but hope that if she returned the valuable pin, there might be a small reward to justify her purchase of the purse, and some left over. She put the brooch back under the lining, put the purse under her arm, and resumed browsing.Â
A nearby table held an eclectic assortment of books, dishes, and knickknacks. Nellie’s eyes immediately fell onto an adorable salt and pepper set.
Oh, my goodness, Johanna would love these. She lovingly traced the lines of the chubby porcelain bride and groom shakers with a finger. The bride had rosy cheeks and a wreath of forget-me-nots over her veil. The tiny groom wore a bowler hat with a shamrock sticking out of his jacket pocket. It’s as though I was meant to stop here on my way to the Globe. There can’t be a more perfect gift for a newly engaged girl obsessed with homemaking. And it's an Irish couple!
Nellie smiled, thinking of how different she and her twin were. They shared dark hair cut in a shoulder-length bob, thickly lashed large eyes, and what Mam termed rosebud lips. But Nellie was the one who could never sit still, the proverbial master-of-none when it came to sewing and other household tasks. In contrast, it was calm and patient Johanna who often finished things for her, whether it was a pie, stitchery, or even a costume for a play Nellie was in.
Looking at the sisters, one could easily predict which was restless and which was content wherever she was planted. Johanna’s features were sweetly rounded due to the extra few pounds Nellie envied. And Nellie’s slightly sharper facial features were constantly moving.
Fortunately, being animated meshed well with acting, for Nellie longed to be a professional actress. However, DaidĂ’s admittance into the West Mountain Tuberculosis Hospital had curtailed Nellie’s plans to join two friends in The Big Apple. She had just sent them a letter saying she couldn’t join them after all and to look for another flatmate.Â
Nellie’s lips drooped, and her eyes grew a tad misty as she began to look through a stack of cookbooks. At least I can still be part of the Drama League. And I’ll understudy Mrs. Wright Jones’s role in the You and I production. If I can get a job with suitable hours, that is.
Nellie’s hands stilled on a clothbound hardcover of a golden mustard color. The dark red of the title, Mrs. Canfield’s Cookery Book, and the embossed mixing bowl, spoon, and rolling pin made a striking contrast. Scrolling accents on the four corners and under the title boosted the volume from simple country to classic elegance. Without even opening the cookbook, Nellie knew her sister would prize it.
Behind the title page was a letter from Mrs. Canfield written in italics. Nellie bypassed it to peruse the recipes, but then a sentence captured her interest. “I hope through the pages of this book you will find not only instruction but also inspiration for your body and your soul.”
“How can a cookbook contain inspiration for the soul?” she murmured. She flipped through the pages and saw scriptures and other wise sayings as headings and interspersed between recipes. A former owner had even added comments and quotations of her own.
“I doubt Johanna has any cookery books as lovely as this. Who would give up such a keepsake?” Nellie murmured.
She turned back to the front pages to read a handwritten note at the bottom of the title page: You’re a talented young woman. That, along with your training is sure to take you wherever you want to go. Never be afraid to try! Best wishes, JM
Even more perfect!  Johanna worked for the Women’s Institute of Domestic Arts and Sciences and could take home economics courses for free. Due to her constant training, she excelled in many areas – especially decorating, sewing, and cooking. Maybe this inscription would encourage Johanna to be less resistant to using her talents to branch beyond the mailroom of the correspondence college.Â
As Nellie purchased the purse, saltshakers, and cookbook, she questioned the ladies who headed the rummage sale for the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund. As Mildred had predicted, the purse was a donation from the Peale family. Well, Nellie had plenty of time before her interview at the Globe to walk the few blocks to Clarinda House – one of the many stately homes she had always wished for an excuse to visit. Maybe this was a sign her life could still be interesting -- even if she wouldn’t be acting on Broadway any time soon.
Â
***
Â
As Nellie practically danced down the drive toward the three-story limestone mansion, a dark-haired man rushed down the broad marble steps of the front. As he turned his head and made eye contact, he slowed down and changed direction, heading toward her instead of the Model A convertible coupe parked along the drive.Â
The man was handsome despite the grim expression on his face. He looked so stern that Nellie drew to a halt, standing frozen as he approached.
“I thought the Women’s Institute had recommended a reliable girl. The cook and I awaited your arrival for almost an hour.” The man’s deep voice was icy despite his apparent frustration and hurry. His grey eyes matched his tone. “I hope the fifty-five cents an hour wage you won’t earn teaches you the value of others’ time.”
Nellie couldn’t think of anything to say beyond “I’m sorry, sir,” though clearly it was a case of mistaken identity. The man’s gaze was piercing, his stiff broad shoulders commanding.  She’d never met anyone like him.
Before she could gather words to explain her real purpose in stopping by Clarinda House, he continued his lecture. “I am sure there are fully qualified cooks who would love to take on one meal a day for a household of four for that wage.  Good luck finding another job that would allow you to continue your studies.”  He turned his back on Nellie and headed for the forest-green car.
With an impulse she would later greatly regret, Nellie called, “Wait, please. Sir?” She moved toward him.
He turned.
“Won’t you please reconsider? I…” Nellie paused. How could she convince the man to give her someone else’s job without telling an outright lie? That wage was twenty cents more an hour than she would expect to make at the Globe. It would be such a blessing to her family, and dozens of girls were certain to interview at the Globe for the shopgirl position. And surely, if the job proved too challenging, she could work something out with her twin. “You see, I thought an interview wasn’t to take place for another half hour. And I live in Clarks Summit, not here in Scranton, so you can see I would have been here in plenty of time had I known…”
“And you didn’t take the time to verify the appointment?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have a phone.” Nellie made her eyes look sad and winsome, like Barbara La Marr’s in The Girl from Montmartre. “Could you find it in your heart to give me a trial period? Despite my tardiness?”
The gentleman didn’t seem to be falling for her purposeful eyelid drooping in the least. He was beginning to turn away. But maybe it still wasn’t too late. Nellie made her voice sound shaky, like Mrs. Wright Jones had taught her to do when a character is fighting tears. “Mr. Peale, I beg you to reconsider. My family needs me to get this job desperately. You see, my father can no longer work in the mines. He’s been sent to the sanitorium for lung sickness.”
Â
Â
Nellie O'Dwyer is young, energetic, and a bit impulsive. Family finances are tight with her DadaĂ off work while he recuperates from tuberculosis at a sanitarium. Nellie had hoped to go into acting, and has the talent for it, but turned down a chance to go to New York to stay home and help the family.
She finds a valuable brooch in a purse in a secondhand shop. When she stops by Clarinda House to return it, she is mistaken for the new cook, who is late for her interview. Nellie's impetuous nature prompts her to accept the job, knowing her family could use the money, even though her cooking skills are, shall we say, sketchy. What could possibly go wrong?
Oh, Nellie! Amy Walsh gives us a plucky, winsome heroine in her title character, and I simply adored her. She has big dreams and a big heart to match, and her actions are never taken with the intent to harm. Even when her dreams are deferred or pushed aside, she doesn't let it get her down for long.
Nellie's heart flutters when she's near her new employer, Mason Peale, but she feels like she never quite measures up. He doesn't care for acting, thinks it frivolous and chastises Nellie for not putting her energies toward something more meaningful. When he learns she took the cook's position under false pretenses, his disappointment is palpable. Little does Nellie realize that his heart is slowly being swayed toward hers, too.
This book called to mind Sara Brunsvold's The Divine Proverb of Streusel in its use of a cookbook as a plot device. While Nellie is at the secondhand store where she finds the purse with the brooch, she also finds a copy of a cookbook by one Mrs. Canfield. She decides to make use of the book to help her learn cooking skills, and much like Nikki in Brunsvold's story, Nellie finds not only helps for kitchen use but also verses and notes that point her heart to a much more vital knowledge of and faith in God.
With characters you can cheer for, sweet romance, unintended chaos, a gentle focus on faith, and a lovely happy ending combine to make Nellie a charming, heartwarming read. I loved it, and I recommend it!