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.

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?

That's Just Wrong

Frank Marcello, the Cutco cookbook illustrator, cracks me up. He would SO not get away with these illustrations today.

Take a gander into the way his mind pictures the world, and its people.

Brontosaurus ribs anyone?

Cornelius's Favorite: K-E-double-L-O-double-good Every Day Hamburgers

The Cutco cookbook includes six recipes for hamburgers. This one is the every day version, containing, of course, corn flakes.

Note to cook: I'd use the sugar free variety if I were you.

Here's the recipe.

And for your viewing pleasure, here's a little walk down corn flake memory lane:

Special Guest Blogger: Mama K on Boiled Dinners!

I wanted my Mom to write a guest blogger post, and thought about the dishes that most represented the cooking from my childhood during the 1970s. What came to mind? Boiled dinners!

While Googling about these culinary creations I stumbled across a cool cookbook mentioned in the Cookbook of the Day blog:

Now it's on my wishlist.

My memories of these dinners was that they were simple but had complexity of flavor (not that I knew what that meant at the time). Mom's versions were very straight forward. No Old Bay or garlic. No herbs. The smell would be enticing, filling the house with the promise of something good to come.

But let's hear what Mama K. has to say.

As a young girl growing up in California, I had no idea what a boiled dinner was. Eventually, a person from the East showed me his version of a Boiled Dinner. It consisted of a piece of beef, vegetables, lots of liquid and cooked in the oven.

Several years later, I was married with two children. The four of us arrived in Hornell, New York, from France, after my husband (at that time) was discharged from the U.S. Army.

There were many differences for this California girl to get used to, after landing in New York. Boiled Dinner was my favorite.

So, this is what I learned about a Boiled Dinner:

The ham (at that time) was so salty, that it was ALWAYS boiled in a large pot on the the top of the stove for a few hours, until the ham was falling off the bone. At that time, chunky cut-up vegetables such as, cabbage, carrots, turnips (optional), and onions are added. When vegetables are about half done, the potatoes are added; as they cook fairly quickly, they will totally fall apart if added too soon.

The ham provides a lot of flavor (and salt) to the vegetables. Each person at the meal can decide if butter, pepper and salt needs to be add to the dish. This dish can be served with or without the liquid.

(Editor comment: I don't remember a single turnip.)

I hadn't realized that the hams of the day were saltier than the ones we find now, but it helps explain why you'd want to boil the daylights out of it. Today's hams are so lean and tender that I hate to think what a few hours in bubbling water would do to the texture. I'll have to try it with a smoked picnic shoulder, assuming I can find one.

The other style of ham I remember from the era is canned.

Fortunately for me, time heals all memories, and my recollection of them was significantly more appealing than this.

(BONUS LINK: Turns out canned ham is strongly associated with camping trailers, at least according to Google images. Click here to check it out.)

Potential Additions to Cookbook Love

BREAKING NEWS: I'm working on adding two special-guest segments to Cookbook Love periodically. The first is a Guest Blogger feature, where a home cook tells us about cooking a particular dish from the past. (Hoping my mom will do one soon on the fine art of boiled dinners.)

The second is a Featured Blogger interview, which will focus on the favorite cookbooks and vintage recipes from top food bloggers around the interwebs.

Yippee! Stay tune for fun times to come!

More Sundries: Feather Curling!

Don't even try pretending your feathers never got tumbled.

It happens.

The trick is to know how to handle it once it does.

Rotten Glass, Irish Potatoes, Slovenly Domestics, and Soap Shakers

The last chapter in Common Sense in the Household is titled Sundries, and includes advice on how to clean all sorts of things, including cloth coats, carpets, "doubtful calicoes", knives, and "very dirty black dresses".

(I get the black dress bit; I've owned many in varying stages of dirtiness. But "doubtful calicoes" still has me wondering.)

A suggestion for all who have been washing knives with the rest of the dishes:

Knives

Clean with a soft flannel and Bath brick. If rusty, use wood-ashes, rubbed on with a newly cut bit of Irish potato. This will removes spots when nothing else will. Keep your best set wrapped in soft white paper; then in linen, in a drawer out of damp and dust.

What's a Bath brick you may well ask? Turns out it is a precursor to Brillo pads. Here's a visual for you:

Speaking of washing dishes, turns out there is a lot to learn about how to do it right. Not to mention the difficulty of training the household help. Check it out:

The next page continues the author's diatribe, describing the slovenly methods that many domestics of the day employed.

She concludes with a long description of proper dish washing. I'll spare you most of the details, but I loved that the author recommended using a device she calls a "soap-shaker", produced by the Dover Stamping Co., because I have one!

Somewhere.

I dug up this picture on Google so that you can see what it looks like:

I think you'll enjoy the closing sentences of this piece:

A lady did once explain the dinginess of her goblets to me by saying that she was "afraid to put them in hot water. It rots glass and makes it so tender! I prefer to have them a little cloudy." This is literally true--that she said it, I mean. Certainly not that a year's soak in hot water could make glass tender.

Certainly not?

Calf's Foot Jelly Part 2

Silly me. My birthday post on Calf's Foot Jelly did not include the second page. Apologies for the time delay, but I think it is still worth posting.

Who would really question the belief that the beauty and flavor of jellies made with feet are superior to that made from horn shavings and hoofs?

Let's take a look on the inside to prove the point:

When working with the beloved whole, you get all that delicious subcutaneous connective tissue, navicular bursa, and fetlock joint juice.

How can the pre-packaged powdered stuff possibly compare?

Regardless of the truthfulness of this page, deaf ears seem to have prevailed. JELL-O is king.

READER BONUS: While Googling for calf's foot images, I made an interesting discovery. Turns out some people prefer to wear the feet rather than turning them into tasty gelatin desserts. If you fall into that camp, here's a pair you may enjoy:

Now THOSE are some party shoes! They give the term "jello shots" a whole new meaning.

Recipes for Every Emergency!

In addition to recipes for food, Common Sense in the Household contains many interesting tidbits related to health and hygiene.

Take these two items. (You may want to print a copy to put in your first aid kit.)

Let's look at the one on blood flow first. Do you think the author stored a collection of cobwebs in a bin somewhere in case of nasty cuts? Or did she scurry around house and barn, grabbing handfuls wherever she found them?

Can you imagine the state of the injury after a few days of being bound up with cobwebs and brown sugar?

Yuck!

Now on to the second remedy.

I'm imagining an ash tray filled with twists of saltpeter encrusted paper, at the bedside of some poor asthmatic. Could the smoke possibly have been helpful, acting as a primitive nebulizer? The author seems to have personal knowledge of efficacy. Perhaps she uses the treatment herself.

I'm no fan of pharmaceutical companies, but reading this stuff sure makes me grateful for the local drug store.

Vote of No Confidence

I love, love, love this page!!!

Please do yourself the favor of reading it. If the text is too small for you, contact me and I'll send a larger version.

It has everything. Plays on words. Bug parts. Comparisons to dirty clothes. Geology. Mince pies. Dyspepsia.

And last, but hardly least, the intriguing question of what exactly would happen in the mid-night hour if you let your children eat currents immodestly?