"Retro" news and stories

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.

Previously - Vegetable Supper Salad

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.

Previously - Brain Loaf