While You are Waiting: Whiz Burgers!

I'm working on a fantabulous holiday appetizer post for you, and in the process, came across the following that I just had to get out pronto:

I'll be back with more Kraft fun shortly!

Rich Guy Plum Pudding

Look, it's a one pudding open sleigh!

This morning's offering comes from Favorite Old Recipes. The book was produced by speculator rich boy Joseph Leiter, and subtitled "Being a Comprehensive and Diverse Collection of Favorite Recipes Diligently Gathered from Many Sources".

Publication of the title was such big news that the Milwaukee sentinel from April 15, 1928 offered an article on the subject:

The article states:

"Time and expense do not enter into the mind when giving directions for the proper way of preparing a dish. Ingredients are marshaled from every country and every season, and liberal use is made of wines and brandies. But the wealthy author, who maintains a famous wine cellar, explains that in place of the rare vintages called for in the recipes, the non-alcoholic wines and cordials sold at the grocery stores may be sued with satisfactory results.

Mr. Leiter is the son of the late Levi Z. Leiter, early partner of Marshall Field, the Chicago merchant prince, who left an estate of $30,000,000, of which Joseph is trustee. One of his sisters married Marquis Curzon, formerly Viceroy of India, and another is the Countess of Suffolk."

Here's a better picture of old Joe:

Only 1,000 copies of the book were printed, and I'm a lucky girl to get one!

You'll be seeing more of this title in days to come. Today you get a look at the second of two plum pudding recipes Mr. Leiter cooked on his yacht or one of several homes around the country. You can tell it is an oldie by the way the ingredients are handled: small glasses of this, "some milk", etc.

Now run off to the store to get some beef marrow, and cook like a tycoon!

Plum Pudding--No. 2

Have two pounds of beef marrow or suet, chop it well and put it into a large pot; seed a pound and a half of package raisins, wash and clean half a pound of Corinthian raisins, and mix these raisins with the suet; add to this three pounds of bread crumbs, a good glass of Malaga wine, two small glasses of Cognac brandy, the rind of half a lemon, chopped fine, a handful of preserved lemon cut in pieces, a good handful of flour, some salt and eight whole eggs; moisten the lot with some milk; mix it with the hands, so that it will be thoroughly mixed; form a liquid paste. Tie this mixture in a sack and put this sack into a pot of previously boiling water. Let it cook six or seven hours, making sure that the sack is always covered with water and that the water is boiling. While it is cooking, make the following sauce:

Put a quarter of a pound of butter into a casserole, a pinch of flour, a pinch of lemon rind, and candied lemon chopped fine, a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar; moisten the lot with some Malaga wine, let cook as you would any ordinary sauce. At time of serving strain your plum pudding for a few minutes, take it from the sack, set on a plate and glaze it with this sauce. Serve.

Sugar Plums Oh Sugar Plums, What Pray Tell Art Thou?

The first recipe in this month's holiday extravaganza led me on a quest.

Not being much of a candy maker (I'm afraid of boiling sugar), I can't quite tell what the texture of the candies is like, but their snowy whiteness makes a great backdrop for the neon-colored candied fruit of the era.

We always had little plastic tubs of the stuff in my childhood kitchen. I never liked it, but it was a holiday staple, as you will see from recipes to come throughout the month.

I imagine this candy to be very sweet, slightly chewy, and studded with the weirdly textured candied fruit flavors of the past. But they aren't what I ever imagined sugar plums to be.

And so I set out to find out what a sugar plum is. Turns out this is not a straight forward question.

Here are a few examples of the most common version found on the interwebs today:

Sugar Plums avec Saveur

Sugar Plums from Nourished Kitchen

Sugar Plums from Alton Brown

In contrast, Epicurious says that they are candied or dried fruits surrounded by fondant.

Other sources say they are a comfit; a confectionary item usually small in size which is arduously coated in multiple layers of sugar:

The Christmas Food Timeline

A Boke of Gode Cookery

So I'm still confused.

Perhaps I should ask the Patron Fairy for answers:

Look! She's wearing candied cherries! Surely she will know.

I'm off to Google her contact info...

Happy December!

Christmas makes you feel emotional

it may bring parties or thoughts devotional

whatever happens or what may be

here is what Christmas time means to me...

(Or rather, to Cookbook Love)

That's right! The month of December will be devoted to Christmas recipes. I'll be on the hunt for vintage Hanukkah recipes as well, and will post interesting examples of anything I find after the 20th.

(I wonder if Spry ever had Aunt Jenny make latkes?)

Only one way to find out! Stick around for ideas about how to jingle bell rock your holiday kitchen, old school style.

The Devil Made Them Heat It

Taste of Home magazine's email newsletter today listed a recipe that I thought sounded a little disgusting: Mulled Dr. Pepper.

I'm not sure I understand the recipe (particularly adding more sugar, and heating for 2 hours in a slow cooker), but that's not the point.

The point is to wonder why someone would want hot soda? The bubbles would surely be killed in the making, and you would be left with nothing to cut the syrupy sweetness. All the carbonated joy would be removed.

Upon Googling I discovered that Dr. Pepper is really the only soda that people seem to want to heat. The other big names in soft drinks leave well enough alone. (Mostly.)

But not Dr. Pepper.

Some might think it could be a plot of...

But clearly the company itself started the craze....

and continued it throughout the years.

Ok we get it. It's devilishly different. But I'm not convinced it's hot in a good way.

Let me know if you've tried it and think otherwise.

Night Night Little Piggies

I started a new job this week, and I'm tired tired tired.

So before this little piggy trots off to bed, here are a few creepy vintage pork images found around the interwebs for your twisted viewing pleasure:

FRANKARONI LOAF!

For those of us who can never get enough hot dog recipes, here's an entry to keep in mind for next year's Thanksgiving table:

That's right, it's Frankaroni Loaf!

(Shakespeare just may have been wrong about the whole name thing...)

You probably noticed that this is a recipe card. It's part of a fantastic set that I'll be unveiling in detail in December.

In the meantime, happy hot-dog-olive-macaroni-pickle-cheese-tomato-sauce loaf!

Impossibly Easy Update

I just had a piece of the Impossibly Easy Pumpkin Pie mentioned yesterday.

Here's what I think.

It was easy. And it is very much like the traditional stuff but firmer and less custardy.

Unfortunately I don't think I can evaluate the recipe objectively; the canned pumpkin I used was quite grainy. The grit interrupted the velvety smoothness you expect from pumpkin pie.

I'll be honest; the three of us who tasted it missed the crust. But I think we would have missed it less if the creaminess had been there.

I'm guessing most people would choose traditional pie in a taste test. But the Easy version is handy if you:

a) Don't have time to make crust.

b) Forgot to buy refrigerated crust (like me).

c) Want to cut back on the fat level.

One big advantage is that you can make it on the spur of the moment if you just keep pumpkin and Bisquick in the pantry.

Thanks Bisquick. This year, you saved Turkey Day.

Happy Impossibly Easy Thanksgiving!

For the sake of nostalgia I'm making Impossibly Easy Pumpkin Pie for tomorrow's feast. I've always wanted to try it, and since I forgot to pick up some refrigerator pie crust, I figured there's no time like the present!

And what does one need for Impossibly Easy Pie? Bisquick!

Luckily there are gigantic boxes all ready to help.

Here are some vintage Bisquick boxes, ads, etc.




These are fun, though I have to admit that the item below confuses me.

Apparently it is from the 1930s, and is a collection of recipes from stars as told to Betty herself.

But the name? That I don't get. "Turn a trick" I understand, but I don't think it fits in this case. And if it does? For biscuits, you should pay extra.

While trying to find out when Betty Crocker began marketing through their "Impossibly Easy" pie concept, I came across this page:

http://www.foodtimeline.org/foodpies.html#impossible

The site is a gem! Take a look at this timeline when you have a minute:

http://www.foodtimeline.org/

I haven't researched who writes the site or how accurate it is, but my first reaction is COOL!

Back to the pie. It is out of the oven and looks pretty.

(Ok, so this shot comes from the Betty Crocker website, but why make you look at my shoddy photography when you can see the work of pros instead?)

I'll let you know how it tastes tomorrow. Unless I'm too drunk on tryptophan to log on blogger once the feasting is done.

In the meantime, I hope that your holiday be filled with thanks, that your family be on good behavior, and that all your cooking be done with love.

All Things Chicken

I don't think Frank Marcello likes chickens.

Either that, or he loves them but applies the writing axiom that you have to let bad things happen to your favorite characters.

Just look at this series, apparently featuring Hanna Bell Lecter:

She chased him down, held him up like a victory bouquet, and then proceeded to get him drunk, meanwhile planning a coq au vin with some nice fava beans on the side.

And here he is at the last, bald scalp now covered by a hat, comb set aside for a garnish.

Bubbling away as if all is well, when clearly, that inner tube is not going to save him.

Poor chicken.

I wonder if Frank was a vegetarian, trying to make a point?

New Feature: Polls!

Cookbook Love has added a new feature for my enjoyment and edification, and hopefully yours.

Polls!

The first poll is about turkey. To brine or not to brine, THAT is the question.

What do you do?

Check it out, over there on the right. (Your right. My left.)

Let's talk turkey!

Oh, Horseradish!

Turns out you can't always count on Frank Marcello, factually speaking.

First off, that's no horseradish. That's a reg'lar radish. Or maybe even a turnip.

Horseradish looks like this:

Just kidding.

It really looks like this:

So that's problem number one.

Problem number two is that horses are allergic to the stuff. It can cause all sorts of problems, some of which are quite embarrassing. It's downright irresponsible to create illustrations like this which could cause people to poison their prize ponies.

He's lucky I'm not litigious.

And that I don't own a horse.

Problem number three is that this critter looks more like a donkey than a horse. OK, so his ears aren't that big, but check out his attitude. That's a donk-eyed look if I ever saw one.

That is of course unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.

Run, Beef, RUN!

One question.

What IS this cowboy holding?

Does he have an armful of Christmas packages, while forming an invisible snowball to throw at the beef?

Ok, two questions.

Is he winking at said beef?

That cow might think about hoofing it pronto. And that's no bull.

Shortcake: It's Not Just for Dessert Anymore

I have no idea why, but Diane Sawyer seems to have an opinion about this dish. Check it out:

http://abcnews.go.com/WN/page?id=13811704

She doesn't really seem the type to me. Not that I watch her much, but I picture her lunching on something like jicama salad on a bed of edamame ragu topped with candied free-range chicken.

Or does that seem harsh?

No offense to Ms. Sawyer intended. It's just a dish that sounds like it would be peddled to the stars. For all I know, she's a porkaholic.

As for the recipe, I must object. How can it be called SHORTCAKE if the ham goo is poured over toast? Really? Shouldn't it be titled Ham Rarebit sans Fromage?

And, in case you wondered if I hadn't noticed, what in blue blazes is "condiment sauce"???

Please comment if you have a clue. I have none.

Crusty Sausage Cakes

Ya gotta love the title.

The title is so great, I almost don't need to add a thing.

In fact, I don't think I will.

Oh Frank. You are Such a Ham.

Here are a variety of pig pictures from Cutco Meat and Poultry Cookery. Clearly Frank, the illustrator, thinks that swine are just thrilled to pieces to offer themselves up for our feasting pleasure.

Just look at them frolicking in various settings.

1. Juggling:2. Drunk:3. Crowned king of all swine:

4. Getting high?5. Starring in minor theatrics:

6. Tanning:7. Acting as chief pillow and butt rest:

You'll find some of these illustrations in recipes to come. Others will simply stand on their own merits.

Pork out.

20th Century Wieners! The Dogs Kids Love to Sprinkle with Parmesan

Everyone loves hotdogs. Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks. (Click it. You know you want to.)

Armor says it. Oscar Mayer says it. It must be true.

Cutco obviously believed it as well; it includes a whole chapter titled "Wieners."

Here are some kids enjoying a string, as if to prove the songs.

And here's a recipe in case your kids are bored with the same old dog in a bun. (Or cut up into unchokable chunks if they are little.)

If they are anything like my kids when they were young, they'll want nothing to do with this dish. But then, I was a bad parent and didn't teach them to eat what was placed before them. Hopefully you can learn from my mistake and tell them to clean their plate or lose out on the Jello.

I wonder what the 21st Century Weiner will be like?

Suggestions appreciated.

Nothing Says Variety Like Spiced Tongue

Oh, Cutco. I do so love you.

Take their handling of variety meats. It's just offal. They include pictures in case you find yourself in a market looking at stacks of unlabeled flesh, and need to tell the difference between sweetbreads and brains.

Obviously, the page is useful. You just might want to ignore the illustration of the animals dancing happily at the top, prior to their thymus glands, livers, kidneys, brains, et. al. having been, shall we say, removed.

(Try especially hard not to look at the little guy in the front. I think he's a veal, though he reads more like a cross between a kangaroo and a baby dinosaur.)

But on to a recipe!

From the looks of the picture, I'm guessing that hubby thinks she bears a spiced tongue, but not in a good way. He looks like he'd be happy to boil it, let it soak overnight, and then peel the skin off himself.

Perhaps then he could get back to his paper.

Damn it. Tongue night again?