Scanned from Cooking and Traveling the Cape Cod Way (1953)
Forefather's Day isn't celebrated until tomorrow, but I'm posting this in anticipation of the East Coast's wintry mix blowing up the collective skirt of many folks' salt pork acquisition schedules. I'm a huge sucker for dishes made expressly in observance of regionally significant holidays and events -- especially so when the tenor of the recipe matches the spirit of the occasion. In New Orleans at Mardi Gras, it's all wild-hued, cream-slathered King Cake. On a chilly Christmas Eve in North Carolina, there is sweet, hot Moravian Love Feast coffee, and light potatoey buns, made to be split and shared.
It seems appropriate that a feast in commemoration of the Pilgrims' arrival in a bitter and bleak new terrain would involve some rather hardscrabble fare -- sustenance and utility, rather than sybaritic excess. Then again, I could be projecting 'cause I've never met a succotash I've really liked. Should I be able to get my frozen paws on some pea beans within the next 24 hours, I'll give this one a go.
If you should decide to do the same, please let us all know how it goes in the comments below. All I ask is that you remember to pay for the corn.
Scanned from Time to Entertain by Charlotte Turgeon (1954)
Fifty-four years after this printing, I'm hard-pressed to argue with Ms Turgeon on the import of having a few staple schmancy things tucked around the house, should mid-week meal boredom encroach or a party break out. Can't say I'm especially aligned with her specifics, but that could easily be a function of the 5+ decade divide.
I pride myself on being able to entertain at a moment's notice, due to the presence of these just-slightly-left of my central (olive oil, stock, Parmesan, fish sauce, double-black soy, tomato paste, rice/red wine/balsamic vinegars, fresh herbs) everyday ingredients.
Tiki has long been a beloved sub-genre of American culture, revered by those who love retro, irony, carved wooden heads, eccentric glassware and powerful, fruity drinks. All these things come together at the tiki hourse of worship: The tiki bar. Yet tiki bars are few and far between, with many having been torn down or stripped of their grandeur--only a few beloved relics like San Francisco's Tonga Room, Los Angeles' Tiki Ti and Tuscon's Kon Tiki remain.
But there's a new tiki in a town that rides its own undercurrent of retro and irony. Las Vegas now hosts the planet's only 24-hour tiki bar: Frankie's Tiki Room, which offically opens today, December 4.
Frankie's is a lovingly crafted example of authentic tiki style, with woven palm thatching, carved wooden chairs and blowfish lamps, along with one-of-a-kind art and design by tiki titan Bosko and space-age bachelor pad painter Shag, among others.
But, of course, no tiki bar is a true tiki bar without an extensive selection of fruity, sugary, unexpectedly powerful drinks. The menu at Frankie's Tiki Hut goes all out, offering classic rum-and-pineapple tropical beverages like the Mai Tai and the Zombie made with original Don the Beachcomber recipes. There is also an abundance of specially-created cocktails like the Mojito-esque Bearded Clam, the clover-and-hazelnut spiced Jonas Grumby and the Bombora Blast, which combines 151-proof rum with guava-flavored energy drink. The menu categorizes drinks, with a rating of two to five skulls indicating strength, from pleasant libation to lethal concotion. Given the deceptively sweet nature of tiki drinks, it's a big help.
From The Heinz Book of Meat Cookery (1930), HJ Heinz Company
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
From Dainty Desserts for Dainty People (1915), Knox Gelatine
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
From The Best of Taste: The Finest Food of Fifteen Nations (1957), The SACLANT-NATO Cookbook Committee
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
From 500 Snacks: Bright Ideas for Entertaining (1941), Culinary Arts Institute
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
From Dainty Desserts for Dainty People (1915), Knox Gelatine
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
From The Silent Hostess Treasure Book (1930), General Electric Company Electric Refrigeration Department, Cleveland OH
I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.
Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.
Want to see how far American cuisine has come in the past 40 years? Check out the Mid-Century Supper Club on Flickr, where members lovingly recreate heinous 50s and 60s dishes like hot dogs suspended in aspic and olive-studded sandwich loaf. Dishes are served in retro crockery; some are even posed in front of their inspirations, photos from vintage cookbooks and 1962 issues of Good Housekeeping.
I am particularly fond of the higher-concept items, such as the "Three Men in a Boat" - baked potato boats with button mushroom sailors and American cheese sails - or the banana "airplane" - a banana with chocolate wafer wings, flying through whipped cream clouds. Time to tie on an apron and bust out the Jello.
It looks like the good people at Reese's have been inspired by the King - Elvis Presley. The new limited edition Reese's have a two-layered filling of peanut butter and banana creme, in a candy rendition of Elvis's favoritepeanut butter sandwich. Even if you don't really think too much of Elvis, any combination of peanut butter, bananas and chocolate is bound to be a good one because the elements work well individually, as well as when put together. Junk Food Blog says that they are now available in the US, but gives no indication of where they might have been sold before. The Reese's website doesn't mention them at all. I have yet to see any in my local stores. Were they first released near Graceland? If anyone has had the chance to taste this creation, let us know how they turned out in the comments.
Circus Animal cookies were one of my favorite types of cookie when I was in school. Not only were they sweetly addictive, but they were covered in frosting, decorated with sprinkles and shaped like animals. When combined, those traits make up a combination that is irresistible to kids. The fact that the "animals" were next-to-impossible to identify was not an issue, since my primary objective when faced with the cookies was to find the white ones with the most sprinkles and eat them first.
Adults rarely seem to buy these cookies for themselves, which is unfortunate because they're still fun to eat. Instead of going out and buying a bag, try making them at home, as Peabody from Culinary Concoctions by Peabody did. They look just as good as the originals and, since they're homemade, they probably taste even better. They'd be a great thing to take to a party because they're something that no one would expect you to be able to make at home, not to mention that they're just hard to resist in general.
Alphabet soup is a favorite for many kids, despite the fact that it always seems to look much better than it tastes. And if you taste it after the age of 8? Well, let's just say that the pasta-and-sauce concoction is not meant for adult taste buds. With this alphabet soup cutting board, you can still enjoy the nostalgic look of the soup-like concoction, without having to taste it. It is made of glass, textured on top, and is both stain and odor resistant. It's dishwasher safe, so it is a multipurpose board that can be used for anything.
For a different way to enjoy alphabet spaghetti/soup, check out the giant version at Pimp That Snack!
These video-game inspired cakes from Glitter Pissing seemed to fit right in with the other strange (some have said "geeky") series of cakes we've featured recently on Slashfood. There were the Stargate cupcakes, the sysadmin cupcakes and then the meat cake. According to blogger r4kk4, these cakes, which include the Nintendo you see here, arcade versions of Centipede and Ms. Pacman and a Gameboy with Tetris pieces, were created for a cakewalk to benefit the nonprofit youth literacy group 826 Seattle. From the looks of the dozens of comments, there could definitely be a market for cakes like these.
After I made my Jello pie, I wanted to do more Jello desserts - by which I mean that I had an extra package of Jello left over. I decided that I would try my hand at making a layered dessert because some of them just look too interesting to pass up and I've never actually attempted one before.
As it turns out, they're very easy to make. Gelatin doesn't set up at room temperature, so the layers-to-be can sit out while you wait for things to set up. The initial time involved is about 2 minutes, after which you can do household things (or blog) while you wait to pour on the next layer.