Now, I know that Easter is over, but I'm a sucker for vintage recipes, so this image of hot cross buns taken with the old cookbook in the back caught my eye. I've never thought of taking a picture of a finished food product in front of the recipe, but having seen this, I'm definitely going to give it a shot. This image comes to us from Flickr user You Can Count on Me, and you can find the recipe over at her blog, Everybody Likes Sandwiches.
I've always had an affinity for potlucks. There is something about the practice of gathering together with a community of people to share a meal that really appeals to me on a basic level. I grew up attending them, both those at the various Unitarian churches in which I grew up, as well as the more informal ones that would occur every couple of weeks within my parents' group of friends.
Over the years, I started inadvertently collecting potluck cookbooks, until I had six or seven on my shelf. This one, the retro-covered The Potluck Cookbook, is one of my favorites. Written by veteran food writer Dolores Kostelni, it contains a collection of classic potluck recipes from the last 50 years. The images are fun reprints of old magazine and commercial shots from the fifties and sixties, with a few quirky line drawings tossed in for added appeal.
This is a good book to have in your arsenal if you often find yourself asked to bring a dish along (office parties are always a challenge) and you realize that you can't bring your standard Tamale Pie anymore (your co-workers have seen it four times in the last year and a half). It's got good, tasty, fresh ideas (all that was old is new again) and is a fairly slim volume (so it won't take up too much space on your shelf).
I picked up this magazine-style cookbook when I was in Portland, during my bi-yearly visit to the bins (the as-is Goodwill Outlet in SE Portland that sells nearly everything by the pound) for $.50 (the books are just about the only things that don't go by the pound). My edition of the The American Homes: Meals in Minuteswas printed in 1964, by the publishers of The American Home magazine (which was headquartered in a building 13 blocks from my apartment here in Philly).
The thing that's fun about this cookbook is that it is a snapshot of a time in American cooking that has since past. I contains recipes for things like "Make-Ahead Frankfurter Casserole" and "Tongue Noodle Supreme." However, tucked among the kitschy and slightly revolting are some really useful and tasty-sounding recipes, including a well-explained and fairly authentic version of Osso Buco. Another useful element of this book is that it prints calories and information about the vitamins contained in each dish under the recipe. I'm fairly certain that they were probably one of the first to be publishing that sort of data back in those days.
Scattered among the recipes are also a variety of tips and tricks for making food look more lovely and for getting the most out of your leftovers. I'm a particular fan of the tip on page 60 that suggests a good way to heat up leftover rice, spaghetti or veggies. They say that you should place the food on a piece of aluminum foil and then cup the foil up around the food, making sure to leave the top open. Then place it in a saucepan with a small amount of boiling water in it and steam for ten minutes or so, until the food is well-heated. Not a bad tip for these days, especially if you are trying to reduce your dependence on the microwave.
I have something of a weakness for old recipe indexes. I love that I was able to get my hands on my grandma Bunny's recipe file and I also treasure the box of recipes that I picked up at an antique mall some years ago. There is something about a collection of recipes that were gathered, tested and loved that makes them special and wonderful.
A couple of months ago, Garrett at Vanilla Garlic inherited his grandmother's recipe files. When I first read his post, I was deeply envious, as those card files are ten times the size of the one I have from Bunny (not that I'm ungrateful for what I have). But now that he has started posting recipes and I'm just appreciative, because it's fun to see what his grandmother made and what he chooses to feature.
The first recipe he took out for a test drive was for Banana Cookies. I have made more loaves of Banana Bread in my life than I can count, but I've never thought of using bananas in cookies before seeing this post. He broke the batter into three segments, baking one off plain, stirring in some chocolate chips into the second and mixing in some pecans in the last third of the batter (he liked the pecan batch the best). He says that they turned out to be soft and cakey, two characteristics I particularly admire in a cookie.
Looking for something to make for dinner tonight? Why not try this one from my grandma Bunny's recipe box called Shrimp Curry Improv (I want to make it just for the name). It is a recipe that is definitely a product of it's time (I'm guessing sometime in the late sixties or early seventies) in that it uses a can of mushroom soup to constitute most of the base of the sauce. I don't know if she made this one up or if it comes from some other, more exalted source, but all that aside, I'm guessing it would be pretty tasty, served over rice and with a side of sauteed spinach or other wilted green.
I have a strange fascination with old recipes and cookbooks from the fifties and sixties (which you might have figured out from all my vintage recipe posts). Danny Miller, a writer out of LA who blogs at Jew Eat Yet and mostly writes about movies, music and television, wrote a tribute post last week about Arlene Francis, in honor of her 100th birthday. She was a a regular on "What's My Line" and in 1961 wrote a cookbook called No Time for Cooking. In it, she extols the virtues of casual parties (although no casual party I've ever thrown has looked like that) and items like Luxury Loaf. Go check out Danny's complete post for the full skinny on the food that inspired his mother and countless other women in the early sixties.
Several months ago, my cousin lent me a stack of old recipes that had belonged to her mother. In that pile was a brochure from the Philadelphia Cream Cheese company. It looks like it's from the late fifties or early sixties and contains 44 recipes that use cream cheese (preferably Philadelphia Brand). The one pictured above isn't particularly seasonable, but for some reason sort of appealed to me. I guess because it's the time of year to start thinking about holiday pies.
I love old community cookbooks. I pick them up at thrift stores, bookshops and yard sales whenever I can. I especially like the ones from the fifties and sixties, as they allow a peek into the kitchens and dining rooms of a time before food television and the gourmetification of the world. I rarely cook out of these books, perusing them mostly for entertainment and occasionally for inspiration.
Several weeks ago my cousin and I were going through her cookbook collection to find some recipes for my thesis, when we stumbled across a copy of the Norristown State Hospital Women's Medical Auxiliary cookbook, which she had because her mother had contributed several recipes. The pages are rough half sheets that have yellowed with age. It is bound with a plastic spiral, like the ones we used in elementary school to make books. I've enjoyed flipping through it, checking out the recipes with my aunt's name attached, to see what she was cooking in the late fifties or early sixties.
Although we aren't officially in fall yet, Labor Day marked the end of summer in my mind, so I offer you a recipe that seems to be expressly designated for this time of year. I'm not entirely sure why this dish should be made in the Autumn, but Mrs. Barbanti believed that was when it was best, so I won't argue with her.
You may be feeling like it's been all-zucchini, all the time around these parts lately, but it is the season for squash so I keep offering up the recipes. I plucked this one from my grandma Bunny's recipe card file. It's a fairly standard recipe (not as vintage as some of the others I've posted), although I do like the addition of the raisins. They were the one thing I thought was missing from the zucchini muffins I made earlier in the week. I also think that if I made this bread, I'd reduce the sugar (especially with a cup full of raisins), because 2 whole cups seems like an awful lot. If you want to make these lower fat, you could also use apple sauce in place of some or all of the oil.
Here's another recipe from an old card file. This one comes from a recipe box I picked up at an antique store about five years ago. The wooden box is scarred and stained, the finish puckered from years of sitting near a hot stove. There isn't anything that would identify the original owner by name, but I've gotten to know her through the things she cooked. She served flank steak on Christmas Eve, a cheese ball with chutney as a cool appetizer for a patio dinner and kept a note taped to the top of the box on how to use low fat yogurt in place of sour cream.
This recipe is fairly seasonal, if you replace the canned peaches for fresh (which are flooding the markets in my area). I do believe that these peaches would be sensational over ice cream.
Old is new again as vintage cookbooks are rediscovered online. These books, previously relegated to the back of
closets everywhere, are being dusted off, opened and enjoyed. They were even the subject of a blogging event. They range from the
insightful - perhaps an old Joy of Cooking - to the bizarre, like this old copy of The Ground Meat Cookbook from the 50s found via BoingBoing.
The cookbook contains "204 intriguing ground meat recipes", but also contains general cooking tips,
lovely illustrations and surprisingly appetizing photography. It is unlikely I would want to try
the "Jellied Veal Loaf", but I do think I will take a look through the back of my grandparents' kitchen
cupboard the next time I visit.
I've always had an affinity for potlucks. There is something about the practice of gathering together with a community of people to share a meal that really appeals to me on a basic level. I grew up attending them, both those at the various Unitarian churches in which I grew up, as well as the more informal ones that would occur every couple of weeks within my parents' group of friends. 
I picked up this magazine-style cookbook when I was in Portland, during my bi-yearly visit to the bins (the as-is Goodwill Outlet in SE Portland that sells nearly everything by the pound) for $.50 (the books are just about the only things that don't go by the pound). My edition of the The American Homes: Meals in Minutes was printed in 1964, by the publishers of The American Home magazine (which was headquartered in a building 13 blocks from my apartment here in Philly). 
Looking for something to make for dinner tonight? Why not try this one from my grandma Bunny's recipe box called Shrimp Curry Improv (I want to make it just for the name). It is a recipe that is definitely a product of it's time (I'm guessing sometime in the late sixties or early seventies) in that it uses a can of mushroom soup to constitute most of the base of the sauce. I don't know if she made this one up or if it comes from some other, more exalted source, but all that aside, I'm guessing it would be pretty tasty, served over rice and with a side of sauteed spinach or other wilted green. 
Cakes so amazing they'd be hard to cut into
Fruit juice: An invitation to diabetes?
Morbid thoughts? Have a cookie
