The Chalet was founded in 1931 by none other than Bertha Hinshaw, an indomitable lady who merged the memories and mementos of her world travels into an eclectic melange of Swiss village-Alice in Wonderland non-sequitur kind of architecture and who was determined to serve the best food in Florida no matter how isolated her pop-up storybook setting or how stiff the competition. At her side was son Carl, who took over the kitchen, established a soupery, a soup and sauce canning factory, and, at his mother's prompting, even managed to paint charming murals on Chalet walls.
Moving into the wonderland in 1947 was Vita Petersen, a native of Nebraska but raised in Lake Wales. She admits she loved Carl from the fifth grade. They were married as soon as Carl returned from wartime combat and training missions in the Pacific. He pursued his love of flying, adding hangars and a 2,450-foot grassy landing strip on the 70-acre grounds. He had his own Bellanca and served as sales rep but had the most fun in his own one-man, open-cockpit gyrocopter.
The self-effacing Vita put her experience as an Eastern Airlines flight attendant to good use in the dining room and the inn, where 30 unique rooms were available for the increasing number of guests who made the pilgrimage to Lake Wales. Bertha, in her inimitable fashion, had furnished them with what she had collected, or rather amassed, during her many trips abroad. Carl was always there to do the heavy lifting and to supervise yet another painting of the ramble of rooms. He was always in charge of the kitchen. Never a chef, but he learned at Bertha's side and then developed his own recipes, training a loyal crew of cooks while Vita took over the front room.
On at least one occasion, however, she did make a valuable contribution out back. It was during a reception for visiting food writers sponsored by Birdseye Frozen Food Co. The kitchen was running late and could not complete a chicken liver canapé for passing before the guests assembled for the first course of broiled grapefruit. That was already a Chalet classic, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, slathered with butter and broiled -- the amount of sugar depended on the tartness of the citrus, which came from the Chalet's grove. Vita put the chunks of chicken liver on toothpicks poked into the grapefruit. It was an instant hit, adding mightily to the Chalet legend and lore.
After Bertha died at age 90 in 1973, Vita began running the restaurant and the inn and made valuable contributions to the growing success of the soupery, boosting the mail orders, participating in the preparation of special cannings with other labels for specialty shops around the country. A highlight was the famous Moon Soup, otherwise known as romaine, which had already attracted considerable attention when government inspectors questioned the name for a soup that had no romaine. Carl had to explain it was meant to be in the Roman fashion, not linked to the lettuce family in any way, that it had a chicken broth base, spinach and mushroom bits plus no fewer than 18 spices, including curry. But it's now linked solidly with the space program: Going to the moon with Apollo 15 and 16 and sold in museum shops, including the Smithsonian's Air & Space Museum.
The soups are served in distinctive ceramic bowls that Bertha found in Norway, where they were used as ashtrays. To guarantee reliable replacements, a Yugoslavian couple, Liliana and Boz Birvis, were given their own space and kiln on the property 21 years ago. Taking advantage of their skills, Vita conceived a Memorial Garden where guests write inscriptions on blank tiles with colored crayons for firing by the talented pair. It's an attractive addition as is the new history museum.
Somewhere along the line, Vita found time to have two children, Tina, born in 1952, and Eric, born in 1956, and they in turn have eight children, an extended family spread out in the mini-empire of the Chalet. Tina helps Vita in the restaurant when she can take time from family and a busy career selling home-schooling textbooks; Eric is also very much involved when he's not committed to his career. Keeping the friendly skies spirits alive in the family, he's a captain with United.
Since the death of Carl in 1997, they've all been busier. Eric has a new hot sauce in the cannery, and in 1999 someone had the idea to sell Pure Drinking Water, aged 37 years and originally canned in 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis as part of the Nuclear Attack Survival Kit. Part of the proceeds went to the Cold War Museum in Fairfax, Va.
Vita has had many challenges in her life at the Chalet, notably restraining Carl, who always lived on the edge and who was always looking for new adventures, when he wanted to open an offshoot of the Chalet in the Tampa Bay area or as far afield as Atlanta. Of course the Chalet could not be cloned, and Carl accepted the inevitability of the decision.
Vita also had to survive Carl's gyrocopter flights, which he took whenever the pressures, stresses and strains got to him. "It's only a question of time before he crashes," she did not hesitate to say. On one occasion, Carl had to be rescued from the Chalet's lake when his engine failed.
But through it all, Vita did more than survive. She thrived in the Chalet, believing firmly, as she once told the local paper, "I love the variety of the Chalet. People come here and say that this is paradise. We are so blessed to be able to live here with all the interesting people who come into our lives."
With a calming and always gracious presence, she presides over her paradise with great patience, omnipresent, overseeing a payroll of 75, making sure the Chalet classics are prepared with the usual flair and fine taste, be it the Swedish pancakes for breakfast, the world's best chicken salad or lobster thermidor for lunch or the fabulous Chicken Suzanne, lamb chop or filet mignon at dinner when the famous chicken-liver broiled grapefruit starts the feast, superior potato rolls accompany and Crepes Suzanne and none-better rum cream pie serve as climax.
Prices have not changed in five years, and that means $59 to $79 for their six-course traditional dinner. Worth every cent.
What a great joy it has been to see the Chalet's Golden Spoon collection grow each year, and what a pleasure it was to hand Vita Hinshaw the Golden Spoon Hall of Fame plaque at the banquet earlier this year. Happy birthday, Vita!
Restaurants Around the State
SOUTHEAST: Fort Lauderdale
Bistro Mezzaluna
741 S.E. 17th St.
954/522-6620
Perfectionist George Mayo oversees an upbeat, high-energy happening with superior servings of anything that comes out of executive chef Michael Siegel's kitchen, from slabs of coriander-pepper-encrusted tuna to one-pound veal chops. Dinner, $12 to $27, nightly except Sunday.
SOUTHWEST/TAMPA BAY: St. Petersburg
Chateau France
136 Fourth Ave. N.E.
727/894-7163
From escargots in puff pastry and frog legs provencal to fresh Dover sole, tournedos Paris, coq au vin and Chateaubriand, this is tout French. Good wines, great service. Dinner, $20 to $30.
CENTRAL: Maitland
Antonio's La Fiamma
611 S. Orlando Ave.
407/645-1035
Upstairs is all class and dash with northern Italian verve and a bit of bravura, based on freshness from sea and land, including Black Angus. Lunch, $8 to $19, and dinner, $13 to $40.
NORTHEAST: Atlantic Beach
Plantains At The Sea Turtle Inn
1 Ocean Blvd.
904/249-7402
Marvelous melange of Floribbean and Caribbean achievements, taste-tantalizing temptations and lots of black beans, cilantro, coconut, yuca and, of course, plantains. Breakfast, $4.50 to $7, Sunday brunch, $19.95, lunch, $7 to $14, with Wednesday buffet, $10, and dinner, $21 to $25.
NORTHWEST: Pensacola Beach
Flounder's Chowder House
800 Quietwater Beach Road
850/932-2003
Start with some Diesel Fuel, a high-octane tropical drink great with beer-boiled shrimp, seafood nachos and local crab cakes, and finish off with fresh-caught Pensacola grouper, mahi-mahi or red snapper. Sunday brunch, $9 to $17, lunch, $9 to $20, and dinner, $9 to $23.