In which we learn that Marilyn was tearing it up in 1970s Iowa (and maybe needed some extra cash to pay for it)

Even though From .... Marilyn's Kitchens (Marilyn P. Brown, 1980) is slightly too new for my blog's informal 1970s and before preference, I had to pick it up. 

These types of books with comb binding are usually written by church groups or civic clubs as fundraisers, so why was Marilyn P. Brown publishing her own book in this model? It's definitely not because she was bored. The introduction tells readers that at the time of publication, she was working as a legal secretary in Cedar Rapids during the week and commuting to Sioux City (a four-hour drive right now if Google maps is to be believed-- and perhaps it took longer 40 years ago depending on speed limits, road construction, etc.) every weekend to live as a "housewife and mother with a catering business." (Were there really NO legal secretary jobs closer to Sioux City, and did she really make so much money as a legal secretary that it was worth the extra expense of renting a "high-rise apartment" so she could work there? The questions raised by the introduction can lead one to all kinds of interesting theories. Maybe she was pretty sick of her family? Maybe she just really liked bragging about the apartment? Maybe she was failing to mention her girlfriend who lived in Cedar Rapids?) Before the long commute between being a secretary and caterer, she raised 15 foster sons along with her own three children. Plus her family briefly opened and ran a restaurant until Mrs. Brown realized that owning a restaurant required a lot more work than just cooking. So... Well, maybe I am wrong. It seems like Marilyn P. Brown was the kind of person who liked doing waaaay too many things at once. Maybe she did write this because she was bored, even though she shouldn't have had the time to be bored? Of course, maybe she also just needed to help pay off the debt the family likely went into with the failed restaurant business. Whatever the actual story, Marilyn P. Brown must have been a dynamo! (Past tense because I think she died in 2017.)

I wasn't quite sure what kind of format to use with this book, so in keeping with the craziness of the author's life, I'm going with a discordant menu of mayhem! First up, of course, is an appetizer.

Meatza-- a meat-crusted pizza-- is not that uncommon in old recipe books. This is a little unusual in that it has barbecue sauce and brown sugar on top, but the real thing that makes it stand out is that it's served on Wheat Thins as an appetizer! Meatza is often offered as a low-carb alternative to pizza, so this is the first time I've ever seen it re-carbed with crackers (or served in app-size portions).

I'll admit that the main dish came from the brunch section, but I had to include it because Chicken Sparta was Mrs. Brown's all-time favorite (at the time of printing) recipe! (I'm trying to figure out whether she's making a bit of fun of herself by using "all-time favorite" with the disclaimer, or whether she doesn't see the contradiction of all-time with right now. Either way, it's fun!)

I also love knowing that the Iowa "champagne brunch crowd" is down-to-earth enough to appreciate water chestnuts, American cheese, slices of (likely white) bread, and cans of cream-of-something soup with their champagne. As you might be able to see from the note (presumably added by the author, as it's copied, not written by the book's owner), Marilyn Brown was a nicer menu planner than I am, saying this should be served "with a fruit cup, fresh broccoli spears, small sweet rolls or muffins, wine and/or coffee."

Instead, I'm going to continue with the midwestern theme and provide a barbecued side.

Little bundles of green beans wrapped in bacon, parbaked, then drained and baked for another hour in a pineapple juice/ catsup/ sweet pickle juice/ Worcestershire glaze seems about right.

Okay, fine. I'll add the fruit cup as a salad, just to be nice.

Avocado and melon served in a cream-cheese-ginger-lemonade-concentrate dressing might not be too bad--if you like melon (or if you'd let me swap it out for berries or orange segments). Yeah, I know it's kinda trashy, but I kinda love it.

And finally, for dessert, to show that this book is mostly a product of the '70s anyway, even if the publication date is 1980, we'll throw in a Harvey Wal[l]banger.

For the busy cook, this is mostly mixes (yellow cake mix, instant vanilla pudding mix). Just throw in some oil, booze, orange juice, and DON'T MISS the four eggs hidden off in a corner under the pudding mix. (I love how the recipe seems like it only has one column for ingredients, but there is secretly a second column for just one ingredient for no apparent reason. Nobody was too worried about readability....) Then "Mix in usual way!" Bake. Cool. Glaze with powdered sugar mixed with orange juice.

This fun little book is worthwhile just for the wild introduction about the author, and the recipes give us an insight into what foods were considered glamorous in late 1970s Iowa. I'm definitely glad I got to peek into Marilyn's Kitchens.