You know I loveAnthony Bourdain like I love my own left breast but every time on his show that he whips out some sweetbreads or boar intestine or whatever and talks about how tasty it is fried with some testicles I start screaming at the TV. We don’t need to eat that stuff anymore. Though we’re not quite at flying cars yet I think most of us can probably safely stop gnawing on the assholes of various mammals for amusement. I feel the same way about this: There is a KFC almost everywhere now and we don’t need to make creme bruleé out of come.
On a similar note, my mother recently gave me a cook book put out by what appears to have been the entirety of the1950s home cooking school of thought. The way I know it was the 50s is that under “appetizers” it lists margaritas, brandy slushes, and Long Island iced teas.
I think those are listed in the hopes that you slam a few down before the meal and don’t notice the selections of salads: Strawberry Congealed Salad. Mystery Salad. Quickie Salad. Frosted Raspberry Jello. I’m sure somewhere in here is that weirdly filthy alleged salad of a pineapple ring with a banana stuck through it. Then there’s the beef dishes, the cooking instructions for which are almost always “put all ingredients in dish and bake:” Dreamy Spaghetti Casserole. Taste-of-Taco Spaghetti. Lazy Man’s Meat Rolls. Magical Mushroom Pot Roast. MOCK FILET MIGNON. What on earth was going on back then that we needed to resort to that?
The fish dishes are even better: Salmon Loaf and on the next page, Super Salmon Loaf. Something called “On The Wharf” which in addition to a fish dish is also a musical and a porno. Dockside Delights, same deal. The whole thing scared the shit out of me. I read some of them to my father as he was driving us down the road the other night, and he nearly drove into a ditch when I got to something called, simply, “Puppy Chow.”
There’s also recipes for useful things like German potato salad which I love and could eat by the gallon but have never made myself, and pot roast which really is best when made by someone who remembers the 50s personally, but I was tempted to pull out a few of the weirder ones in here and send them to whoever makes up the challenges for Iron Chef. Your secret ingredient is … The Eisenhower Years!