One of the stories Rita Jenrette doesn't tell in her article about the joys of being a congreesman's wife (See page 8) is the night of the chicken bog invasion. The Jenrettes had just moved into their Capitol Hill townhouse and wanted to throw a housewarming party for political friends. A couple of constituents called to say they'd bring chicken bog, a Southern stew-like concoction of sausage, chicken and rice.

Rita Jenrette wanted the affair catered, and she called her husband at the office to demand he head off the chicken bog at the pass. He said he would. But the night before the party, as the Jenrettes were reading in bed, there came a banging on the door. Four men with kettle-like metal drums and groceries wanted to know where the garage was. And the next morning the Jenrettes awoke to billowing smoke in their backyard as the chicken bog began to simmer.

"They promised this would be one party I'd never forget," Rita Jenrette recalls, "and I still haven't. The party was over by the time the chicken bog had finished cooking."

A couple neighborhood schools served chicken bog for lunch that day, and Jenrette says she still has some bags of the stuff in her freezer.