I always wanted to like Grape Nuts cereal. My mom bought it periodically and it struck me as a very grown up food. Sophisticated, like coffee or wine, but in a bowl. She probably had it on hand for moments when she was trying to lose weight after succumbing to ads like these:
Used as I was to the simple satisfactions of Cheerios, Rice Crispies, and the occasional glorious bowl of Honeycombs, I always served myself too much, dousing the heap with plenty of milk, and then staring at it for minutes, willing it into submission. Maybe this time it would taste good. Maybe if I let it soak long enough it would transform.
It never did.
And because of the volume I'd put in the bowl, my jaw would invariably be sore by the time I forced myself to finish it. Not that I heaped it in. I knew better than that. But I used quantities similar to Euell Gibbons' serving in his famous ads, like this one:
Mrs. Eisenhower has never made any pretense at being a cook. But like most people with no flair for food, she has impractical specialties. Hers are fudge and mayonnaise. Fudge is still one of her favorites and this family recipe is popular at the White House.
That girl obviously had a busy day, and is catching up on the world the old fashioned way while wrangling a meal for herself and a hungry mystery date who waits off camera.
Kitchen phones like her red version became nearly ubiquitous in the 1950s and 60s, due in part to Bell's relentless marketing teams.
Here's one sample of how they did it.
Beautiful AND practical!
Mom looks so relaxed, prepping a backyard luau in that fancy apron.
This ad's also pretty great:
Look how happy this mom is, stirring away at her copper-bottomed pot while Jr. climbs through mouse droppings! She's living the American dream, where every family wants a wood-paneled station wagon and an outfit to match the kitchen phone.
Then there's this one, from a few years later:
The model is doing a lot of heavy lifting in this shot, perched as she is in front of an iconic Georges Briard enamelware coffee pot.
(Sometimes licking whipped cream from a finger tip is just licking whipped cream from a finger tip. Other times it's a phone invitation to a key party.)
Phone marketing was sometimes helped by other companies. Check out the psychedelic 1970s esthetic in this advertisement for...lip gloss?
Her lips may have been moist, but given the era there's a good chance she was too high to be able to dial with that thing pasted on top. Especially since the phone is upside down.
Of course we still like to fancy up our phones.
(You can click on the image if you'd like to buy this phone case or others like it Purchases help support the work of the Cookbook Love team!)
The more things change, the more they stay the same. People still like to decorate their phones, and parents still try to oversee their kids' phone usage.
There were strict telephone rules in my hubby's house when he was growing up, and competing for chat time with four sisters must have been a struggle. Declan's always been cool, so I'm sure he didn't look like this kid, but there's something about their vibe that reminds me of the persecution teens endured when simply trying to talk to a crush or arrange the next nickel bag.
Privacy was non-existent, despite the long cords we trailed around corners and wound around ourselves.
Eventually the cords ended up getting all wanged out like this one, which might be part of the reason dad got so mad:
Thankfully, cords largely disappeared when wireless handsets became the norm. Check out this image of a dad using the Phone Relief hands-free gadget!
Today we carry our phones everywhere, placing them on countertops if we need to wash lettuce or flip burgers while talking. And despite all the changes, this ad speaks more truth than ever:
Need a recipe for Julia's poached eggs in aspic? No problem! Just look it up on your phone.
Thanks for changing the kitchen world, Bell Telephone!
She'd obviously been listening to Mrs. Filbert, who was a big fan of duplicity.
Here's a wedding shot of that happy couple.
You'd think she'd look happier. After all, her margarine didn't require pinching and kneading.
(PINCH THAT COLOR BERRY!)
At least her hands could rest easy, even if her mind couldn't. It was nearly miraculous.
So easy to spread, on husband or bread.
Inspiring songs of joy like this one.
For several years I threw a Halloween party with my ex. We were young back then, so the focus was primarily on beer, but I did my best to offer snacks sufficient to the task of soaking up alcohol. At one party, a guest wisely crashed at our house rather than driving home. He was quite ill the next day, and told his wife he'd been poisoned by our fish balls.
Reader, no such balls were served.
Weenies were part of the menu, though they were miniature and simmered in a vat of barbecue sauce. By the time the parties were over, they'd undergone some sort of unfortunate alchemy, shrinking and toughening until they were mere hardened nubbins of their former glorious selves.
I came across the image above, which offers festive alternatives to the saucy piggies I served back then. And I have questions.
There's a lot to unpack here, so let's break it down into components. First, the menu.
Initially it seems pretty straightforward. Harmless even. But why the ALL CAPS demand for skinlessness? And how does one create Jack O'Lantern carrots? And do we really need doughnuts AND Sherbet AND cake?
Not to mention, WHAT ABOUT KETCHUP?
Moving on, let's talk about decor.
How does one attach a carrot tip to a hot dog? And is shoe polish food safe? And are those the Jack O'Lantern carrots of previous mention?
Next up, the ghost.
While I commend the creature for offering assembly instructions, the notes are missing a few key details. Do you cut a hole in the napkin? What do you tie it with? What are the arms made of? Is the ghost talking on the phone?
And finally, this creature:
"Red Hot Goblin" sounds like either a band name or the title of an extremely blue movie, but at least we know what the creature's arms are made of.
It's been a wild week with lab monkeys escaping from crashed trucks, and people arguing about whether it's better to give out candy or actual food. But I have to admit that taping little masks on wieners was not something I expected to consider as a party activity.
Whether you give it a try or not, I wish you a BOOtiful Halloween!
Cooking is messy business. This guy knows it. You know it. I know it.
There's not always time for a man to change before supper, and guests arrive whether you want them to or not. Men have two options: risk your good slacks, or put on a gol darn apron.
According to the container ad above, beer helps ease the shame of apron wearing. (Assuming you can figure out how to get the can open.)
Some guys aren't into beer. Luckily, Don Draper brought back the glam of cocktails.
LOL, Galliano! I see what you did there!
Julia Child showed us the joys of cooking with wine, and this guy definitely got the memo:
