Where have all the puddings gone? (Auntie's Date-Apple Pudding)

Something happened in the dessert world during the 1970s.

Something earth shattering. Pole shifting. Cataclysmic.

And yet something so subtle we didn't even notice it happening.

For some reason, we stopped making pudding. (If I was a betting woman, I'd wager that Bill Cosby had something to do with it.)

Pudding as an ubiquitous dessert option virtually ceased to exist in any form other than what comes from a box. Eventually you didn't even need a stove.

I've tried to fight the trend in small ways. I made tapioca pudding from scratch the other day, recognizing that it was a small splash of rebellion against a tidal wave of change. And I may grow even more daring, and try a recipe like the one below, despite having no knowledge whatsoever of who "Auntie" might be.

What's the worst that could happen? JELL-O brand takes a contract out on me?

Auntie's Date-Apple Pudding

A butterschotchy pudding rich in apples, dates, and nuts.

1 cup brown sugar (packed)

1/4 cup cornstarch

2 1/4 cups water

1 cup chopped dates

1 cup chopped apples

2 tbsp. butter

1/4 tsp. vanilla

1 cup broken walnuts

Mix brown sugar and cornstarch in 2-qt. saucepan. Gradually stir in water. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils; boil 1 min. Add dates, apples, butter, and vanilla. Remove from heat. Cool to room temperature, add nuts, then chill. Serve in sherbet glasses. Top with whipped cream, if desired. 6 to 8 servings.

Peach-Cantaloupe Pie

Not sure about you, but I've not come across a recipe which calls for cooking cantaloupe before.

I'm not a huge fan of the stuff, and I can't see how cooking it would improve the situation, but I'm sure many of you are major cantaloupe-heads looking for ways to eat it other than in ball form.

In which case, this recipe is for you.

Peach-Cantaloupe Pie

Pastry for 9" Two-crust Pie

2 cups fresh peach slices

2 cups thinly sliced cantaloupe

1 cup sugar

1/4 cup flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 cup sliced almonds

1 tbsp. butter

Heat oven to 425 degrees (hot). Combine peaches with cantaloupe; toss with mixture of sugar, flour, and salt. Arrange fruit in pastry-lined pie pan. Sprinkle with nuts, dot with butter. Cover with top pastry; bake 35 to 40 min.

Cranberry Delight Pie

While I find many of the recipes in these old books entertaining, there are many more that I'd like to actually try. Here's one on that list. I love cranberries, and have been tweaking several of my own cranberry recipes lately, so this one caught my attention.

Cranberry Delight Pie

Perfect for any holiday party.

8" Baked Pie Shell

1/2 lb. marshmallows

1/2 cup milk

3/4 cup ground fresh cranberries (2 to 2 1/2 cups unground)

1 tbsp. grated orange rind

1 cup whipping cream, whipped

Place marshmallows and milk in top of double boiler; heat over hot water until marshmallows melt. Then chill until the consistency of thick whipped ream. Drain excess juice off cranberries until quite dry. Fold in cranberries and orange rind. Chill until thick (almost holds shape when spatula is drawn through). Fold in whipped cream. Pour into cooled pie shell. Chill until set (about 2 hr.). Remove from refrigerator 20 min. before serving.

Happy Father's Day: Dad Cooks Out!

The main reason I'm including this recipe is the nifty illustration at the top of the page.

Doesn't this look just like your dad when he's grilling? It sure looks like mine.

The Hearty Green Bean-Sausage Casserole doesn't seem exactly like a cookout dish, but whatever. It was right below the picture of your dad, so be quiet.

It's probably a good idea that they didn't include a picture of the dish itself. Consider the combination of sausage, tomatoes, and green beans in a gravy base. Gordon Ramsay might say it looks like a dogs dinner, which is more polite than the comparison I would have used.

Despite the potential appearance, let's not be hasty. It may well be delicious.

Ask your dad to make it at the next family cookout. But maybe he should lose the pipe.

Hearty Green Bean-Sausage Casserole

Tomatoes and green beans add garden-fresh flavor and appealing color to this tempting supper dish.

1 lb. bulk pork sausage

1 cup sliced onion

3 to 4 tbs. unsifted Gold Medal Flour

2 1/2 cups cooked tomatoes (1 lb. 4-oz. can)

2 cups cooked fresh green beans

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

Biscuit Topping (below)

Heat oven to 425 degrees (hot). Brown sausage and onion over low heat. (Break up sausage with fork.) Drain off excess fat. Stir in flour; stir in vegetables and seasonings. Bring to a boil. Pour into 2-qt. baking dish. Immediately top with Biscuit Topping. Bake 20 min. 6 to 8 servings.

Biscuit Topping: Add 1/3 cup milk all at once to 1 cup Bisquick. Beat hard 20 strokes; knead 8 to 10 times. Roll into 9" circle; cut in 8 wedges.

Fancy Schmancy Fish

Nuff said.


(Ok, if you really want to know, this picture is for a dish called Buffet Salmon en Gelée. I know you aren't going to make it and so am not including the recipe. If you want to find out where the Jello comes in, you'll have to Google it.)

Lost Deliciousness: Wilted Greens

I'm not sure what happened over the last 30 years, but we threw some darned good recipes out with the hot dog water.

When I first began dating the guy who would become my husband, his mother used to make a salad dressed with a sugary, vinegary, bacon-y dressing that softened the lettuce and turned it into something altogether different. I'd never had it before, and thought the concept brilliant.

But then it just... disappeared.

She stopped making it. Haven't seen it in over 25 years.

I think it's about time that Wilted Greens made a comeback. Here's a recipe so you can do your part for the movement.

Wilted Greens

This salad should be served while the dressing is still hot.

Fry 4 slices bacon, cut up, until crisp. Add 1/4 cup vinegar, 2 tbsp. water. Heat. Pour over 1 qt. shredded greens (lettuce, spinach, endive, romaine, or a combination) tossed with 2 green onions, chopped, 1 tsp. salt, and pepper. Sprinkle 1 hard-cooked egg, chopped, on top. 6 servings.

More recipes for ladies who lunched: Fonduloha

I'm starting to see why my Mom might have been intimidated by cooking for a ladies event. If the menus in the 1962 Betty Crocker's Cooking Calendar cookbook are any indication, ladies luncheons were not casual affairs. Clearly the menus were meant to impress.

Take the one below for example.

The name of the main dish alone is intimidating: Fonduloha. I can't pronounce it.

The book contains 7 or 8 ladies luncheon menus, and each of them is heavy on presentation. It must have been a lot of pressure.

Here's the recipe, in case you have a few friend's coming over later this week.

Fonduloha

Chicken Salad in Pineapple Boats

2 fresh pineapples

2 1/2 cups diced cooked chicken or turkey

3/4 cup diced celery

3/4 cup sliced bananas

1/3 cup salted peanuts

3/4 cup mayonnaise

2 tbsp. chutney or 1/2 tsp. salt and 1/4 tsp. pepper

1/2 to 1 tsp. curry powder

1/2 cup shredded coconut

mandarin oranges

Cut pineapples into quarters lengthwise, leaving green tops on. Cut around edges with curved knife, remove fruit, and dice. Drain pineapples and pineapple shells very well on absorbent paper. Combine pineapple, chicken, celery, bananas, and peanuts in 3-qt. mixing bowl. In small bowl, blend mayonnaise, chutney and curry. Lightly toss mayonnaise mixture with pineapple mixture. Fill pineapple shells. Garnish with shredded coconut and mandarin oranges. 8 servings.

Angel Pie (Lemon Schaum Torte)

I was excited to see this recipe, because it is a repeated hotel menu item in the Emma Graham book series by Martha Grimes (which I highly recommend).

In the books it sounds luscious but there wasn't enough description to actually know what the heck it was.

And here, at last, it is!

Lemon Schaum Torte

Make Meringue Torte (below). Spread with cooled Lemon Torte Filling (below). Top with 1 cup whipping cream, stiffly whipped. Chill about 12 hr. before serving. 8 to 10 servings.

Meringue Torte: Heat oven to 275 degrees (slow). Beat 4 egg whites (1/2 cup) and 1/4 tsp. cream of tartar until frothy. Gradually beat in 1 cup sugar, a little at a time. Beat until very stiff and glossy. Tint, if desired, with food coloring. Spread on heavy brown paper on baking sheet in 8 or 9" round. Shape with back of spoon. Bake 60 min. Turn off oven and leave in until cool.

Lemon Torte Filling: Beat 4 egg yolks in small mixer bowl until thick and lemon-colored. Gradually beat in 1/2 cup sugar. Blend in 1/4 cup lemon juice and 2 tbsp. grated lemon rind. Cook over hot water, stirring constantly, until thick, 5 to 8 min. Cool.

This is the way men like onions...

My mom occasionally made liver and onions when I was young, though if I remember correctly it was a dish she enjoyed solo.

The thing I love most about the recipe below is the caption under the title, which reads "This is the way men like onions--smothering tender slices of liver."

Ain't that the truth.

Fried Liver and Onions

Peel and slice medium sweet onions. Cook in hot bacon fat until golden. Cover and cook slowly until tender. Season with salt and pepper. Remove to warm plate and keep warm while frying liver.

Dip 1/2" thick slices of calves or baby beef liver (allow 1/4 lb. per serving) in flour. Brown in hot fat. Season. Cook over low heat 10 to 15 min., turning once. Serve hot, topped with onions.

Cabbage and Frank Jubilee

The 1960s may have been the hot dog recipe heyday. Here's a fine example, along with a snappy illustration of a sailor on shore leave.

By all means, feed that man some cabbage!

Cabbage and Frank Jubilee

8 cups coarsely shredded cabbage
2 cups Medium White Sauce
2 tbsp. prepared mustard
1 lb. weiners, cut diagonally in 1 1/2" pieces
1 cup grated Cheddar cheese
2 tbsp. fine bread crumbs

Heat oven to 350 degrees (mod.). Cook cabbage covered in 1/2 to 1" boiling salted water, 5 min.; drain. Prepare White Sauce. Add mustard and mix thoroughly. Place half the cabbage in bottom of greased 2-qt. baking dish. Arrange half the winer pieces on top of the cabbage. Pour over half of the mustard sauce. Repeat layers. Top with cheese and fine bread crumbs. Cover and bake 35 to 40 min. 5 to 6 servings.

Turkey Divan and fear of pie-ing

When I was growing up, my mother was a competent cook who presented the simple, basic foods of the day. She didn't experiment much but stuck to her familiar repertoire. We had homemade sloppy joes, chili, boiled dinners, fish sticks, awesome potato and macaroni salads, and the occasional breakfast for dinner (which began my guilty love affair with Spam).

I still occasionally get a craving for macaroni mixed with sliced hot dogs and tomato soup or stewed tomatoes.

She occasionally made homemade bread, pickles, cinnamon rolls, and the best brownies I've ever eaten.

At the time I couldn't tell how she felt about cooking. It seemed like something that just needed to get done, and registered a sort of emotional neutral.

With two notable exceptions.

First, pie crust. For some reason making pie crust sent her into a tizzy. She had a primal fear of tearing. I eventually learned to leave the house when pie was in the making.

The results always turned out beautifully; the fluting on the crust looked like a picture from a magazine. I can't replicate it.

But was it really worth it?

Keep in mind, this was before the days of Xanax, and she wasn't a drinker. Where was all that angst supposed to go?

To this day, the legacy of crust avoidance continues. I still fear the pie shell. I can only pray that my children will break the cycle and step into tart freedom. But only time will tell.

The second example of Mom's emotional cooking was the day she made chicken divan for a ladies event.

My mother was never the kind of woman who attended bridge parties or things of that sort. She was too busy working. I'm not sure what event therefore prompted the divan debacle, but it did involve ladies. And so I couldn't help but notice the recipe below, the starring dish of a Ladies Luncheon menu.

Looking back I know that it wasn't the recipe itself that gave her agita. Especially now, when I see her making spinach souffles, marinated asparagus, complicated desserts and many other dishes.

It was Something Else.

I'm guessing her fear was all about expectations. She didn't want to disappoint anyone. Same as with the pies.

Luckily she no longer seems to be burdened with such unnecessary food fears. Cooking after all is about love, and sharing. It is a gift of self, and should be judged as such.

That being said, I don't think I've ever made chicken divan. Nor am I planning to.

But for those of you adrenalin junkies who like to live on the edge, here's the recipe from the book.

Turkey Divan

1 1/2 lb. fresh broccoli or 2 pkg. (10oz. each) frozen broccoli spears

6 slices turkey (about 1/4" thick) or 1 1/2 to 2 cups pieces of turkey

6 slices cheese

1 can (14 1/2oz.) evaporated milk

1 can (10 1/2oz.) mushroom soup

1 can (3 1/2oz.) French fried onion rings

Heat oven to 350 degrees (mod.). Cook broccoli to crisp-tender stage. Put turkey in bottom of oblong baking dish, 11 1/2 x 7 1/2 x 1 1/2". Cover with broccoli; top with cheese slices and cover with mixture of milk and soup. Bake 25 min. Cover with onion rings and bake 5 min. more. 4 to 6 servings.

Betty Crocker's Cooking Calendar

I went through this cookbook today and pulled out a bunch of recipes for your delectation. It was the perfect thing to do on a gray and rainy afternoon.


It was published in 1962 by Golden Press. Can't remember where it came from but I think it was purchased at a thrift store. I love the illustrations!

In case you are wondering about the pasted in newspaper-clipped recipe, it is for Royal Hibernian brown loaf, an Irish soda bread served at the Royal Hibernian Hotel in Dublin.

The book isn't annotated, but there were two other recipes tucked into the cover, and a few pages are stained by mysterious ingredients blobbed on in years past.

I'll be posting recipes and other tidbits from it over the next few days.

Enjoy!