Home Cooking by Helen Chappell There’s a good reason there are no ethnic festivals for White Anglo-Saxon Protestants. For one thing, WASPS are hardly festive. We celebrate by mixing a cocktail and feeling smug, which doesn’t exactly bring ’em out into the streets. Our quaint native dances, the foxtrot and clumsily lurching around the f loor like Frankenstein with a bad case of poison ivy to the strains of Nirvana, are not fun to
do and are, Lord knows, painful to watch. Nor do our national costumes seem all that bright and colorful. Both men and women are clothed in khaki pants and powder blue shirts, 24/7, 365. You can tell our womenfolk from the men, in the summer at least, by their insistence on wearing cute straw hats. Yes, I have two myself. I know, I know, but love of straw
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