The rainbow returns! Whether you like it or not!

Happy Pride Month! Or perhaps more appropriately this year, Scrappy Pride Month! It's unfortunately getting more important to remind everybody that we're here, we're queer, we deserve to be treated like real human beings because we are in fact real human beings, and also we like rainbows and kitsch. That last item, of course, is where my rainbow of gelatin comes in.

This year, I'm getting a sixth helping of recipes from River Road Recipes II: A Second Helping (The Junior League of Baton Rouge, Louisiana; January 1977 fourth printing). In case anyone isn't familiar with how a rainbow works: start with red. This year is too sour and bitter, so I'm going with (mostly) nice recipes this year, like Strawberry Delight Salad or Dessert.

I love that this Jell-O, like me, can go both ways. It also reminds readers that any gelatin, no matter how sweet, magically changes from dessert into a salad if you just serve it on a lettuce leaf.

Mandarin Orange Salad represents our violet layer. Yeah-- just kidding. The color is given away by the name. (Fun fact: In English, the color is named after the fruit. Before oranges were familiar, the color was just "red-yellow" or "yellow-red." In short, we have a fruit to thank for "orange"!)

To represent yellow, we've got Ginger Peach Salad for everyone who likes things a bit spicy.

This one also has plenty of soggy nuts, for those who are into that kind of thing. 

I'm going to hope the lime gelatin adds enough green that the Cheese Party Salad will count as green.

With three cheeses plus whipped topping, it's sure to be creamy and decadent. (I'd be a little afraid of the American cheese in the mix, though...)

And finally, as close as I can ever get to blue and/or violet with recipes predating Berry Blue Jell-O, Blueberry Salad.

I know the other side is always grousing about us "shoving things down [their] throats," showing an unawareness of both phrasing and how practically EVERY bit of culture has some implicit messages (and the haters are only consciously aware of the ones they personally disagree with). I just wish we could get the message down their throats as easily as Jell-O. 

In any case, it's Pride Month! And I hope all the jiggling in this post makes yours a little better. Gotta take what you can get...

Fonduecraft!

I know Workbasket isn't a cookbook, but the February 1970 issue magically appeared in a huge pile of vintage cookbooks, and it does have a few recipes in it, so today we're working with Workbasket. 

I love that readers could aspire to knit a suit to match their harvest gold fridge and oven. They'll be kitchen chameleons!

This month features chafing dish and fondue cooking. For those who hope their new knitted suit will inspire an intimate dinner, the magazine offers Chicken for Two. 

Hopefully he'll be turned on by chicken strips in bouillon with celery, green onion, canned pineapple, pimiento, and avocado! Unfortunately, there is no recipe for a dessert, but a nearby ad does suggest that "exotic Pepper Cake" may be the key to his heart.

Back in the day, you'd have to send away for the recipe, though. (Now, you can just click here! You won't get a free sample of M-K pure black pepper from the website, though.)

If things are decidedly less romantic, you could cook some Sloppy Mop-Ups.

I expected this to be sloppy-joes-esque, and I have never been a fan of sloppy joes, and when the slightly-altered recipe name makes me wonder if the ingredients include cleaning supplies... well, it doesn't help. To my surprise, though, this sounds better than sloppy joes. It's essentially just an open-faced meatball sandwich that throws in cocktail franks, for some reason.

Or, if the cook is feeling really indecisive and also kinda lazy, there's the "Cook-Your-Food-Your-Own-Damn-Self" option.

Sorry, I mean "Cook-Your-Own-Appetizer Fondue," which involves thawing out various frozen appetizers and providing the hot oil so diners can fry them-- and then dip them in cocktail or tartar sauce. (I'm not really sure how many people are up for pizza rolls dipped in tartar sauce, but the '70s were a crazy time.)

All those fried apps can be followed by a round of "Bring-a-Premade-Dessert-to-Share" and "Help-with-the-Dishes." It's a very easy party to host.

Bonus 1: The page with the two previous recipes also advertised a book that would allow buyers to make their own zodiac "conversation piece" from foil pans, and that was too amazing for me not to show it.

I love how startled the sun looks. Reassuringly, "No artistic ability [is] needed" to make this decoration. (Sadly, I haven't found the instructions online.)

Bonus 2: Tatting instructions just for Lace maker.

I assume they mean something that I am not equipped to understand, and I am sure this requires some artistic ability. 

It's fun to be a tiny obscure blog with three readers tops, so I can get away with shit like this. I hope today you too can get away with something fun, dear reader(s)!

Partying with the calendar

Welcome June! This is the part of the cooking calendar that I always want to slow down, but January is the "J" month that really lingers...

Cooking by the Calendar (edited by Marilyn Hansen, 1978) gets sentimental in June, noting that "With the scent of roses combined with honeysuckle, it has always been a nostalgic time of the year-- a month of graduations, commencements, reunions, showers and weddings." Thus, the month is full of party-ready recipes, including the section for "Party Sandwiches and Salads." I'm not sure what makes a sandwich party-ready in Hansen's estimation, but I'd say "inexpensive and not too tasty"-- I guess to keep the party costs down?

There's a classic trying to sound updated: Cool Cucumber Sandwiches.

I've never quite gotten the appeal of a cucumber sandwich. It doesn't sound repulsive or anything, but I think I'd rather have a nice herbed butter spread on some really fresh bread than to find a thin, slightly slimy slice of cucumber tucked away in the middle of slices of squishy white bread.

Then there is a sandwichy update to a snacking staple: Peanut Butter-Celery Sandwiches.

Again-- I'm more than happy to eat peanut butter on bread. I'm also okay with eating celery as a vehicle to hold as much peanut butter as humanly possible-- but why ruin a smooth and creamy peanut butter sandwich with celery bits? If you want crunch, crunchy peanut butter exists and is MUCH better than peanut butter with celery bits! I really think these sad little sandwiches are just an attempt to keep the party trays fuller so they won't need to be restocked.

At least the gelatin salad should make things a little more fun. 

Maybe Hansen went with the cheap and not-so-tasty little sandwiches so the party budget could include Sangria? 

Finally, the vegetable of the month for June is green beans. The Colache stew looks more like something people would break out in August or September to help use up big batches of zucchini and tomatoes alongside the green beans, but it's still a big bowl of summer (and perhaps more seasonally appropriate for people who live farther south).

Here's hoping that you have a few nice parties to look forward to in June, if you're the kind of person who likes going to parties. (And here's hoping you can still find an affordable greeting card in which to send your congratulations and regrets if you're like me and would rather spend June reading books on the back porch than going to parties!)

Litton gets (kinda) real about microwaves

Litton's Microwave Cooking: Everyday Dinners in Half an Hour (1980) seems a little more realistic than some of my other microwave cookbooks. It doesn't ask anyone to spend a few hours cooking dried beans in the microwave or try to microwave a whole goddamn crown roast. 

I'd say the decision to keep recipes to half an hour or less served them well in that regard.

I also appreciate that the cookbook tries to change things up a little from what people might expect, such as recipes for "international"-style meatloaves rather than just plain old ketchup-topped meatloaf. The Oriental Meatloaves incorporate a big can of Chinese vegetables-- maybe to distract diners from the weird texture of microwaved meat-- and a full half cup of soy sauce-- perhaps to cover up the lack of color and flavor since the meat wasn't browned.

And they come out looking, well...

... like slabs of mystery meat with indeterminate chunks in them. So, I guess not too far from conventional meatloaf?

There's also a recipe for Individual Mexican Meatloaves, with onion, green pepper, taco seasoning, tomato, "crumbled Nacho cheese chips" (I like how they keep it generic-- not Doritos!-- and capitalize the "N"), and kidney beans to help in the texture and flavor departments.

Plus, the individual meatloaves come in adorable little tortilla boats!

That's probably enough to distract diners from the fact of microwave-cooked meat!

The book offers a spin on beanie-weenies that surprised me a little: Polynesian Bean & Wiener Bake.

I thought for sure the ingredient list would lead with pineapple, but it's regular old apple-- a flavor I don't really associate with Polynesian cooking. Don't worry-- the pineapple does eventually make an appearance! And the wieners aren't too likely to suffer from being cooked in the microwave. They're pre-cooked, and I think microwaving hot dogs is a pretty standard prep method by now. (Some people in my college dorm would have starved without microwaved hot dogs!) 

The concoction does suffer from being brown as a 1970s Sears family photo, though.

The final recipe for this post is a bit brighter, with enough red and green to almost look Christmassy. 

It's Spinach Lasagna! Litton conceded to the reality that it's tough to get everything assembled in half an hour if you've got to cook lasagna noodles too, though, so...

The Spinach Lasagna ingredients suggest this would be a pile of mush. And if you're wondering where the instructions are, this recipe is complicated enough each step got a separate listing of instructions with photos. 

Nothing sounds bad, exactly-- beefy spaghetti sauce, cheesy spinach-- but there wouldn't be much to chew, really. Not even a bit of crispy breadcrumbs on top for some contrast. Just glop on glop on glop. (Although-- maybe now I have an idea of what to make for the next time my jaw is killing me! This would be easy enough to make with veggie ground "beef.")

In short, this is one of the more-realistic, less-delusional-about-the-abilities-of-microwaves microwave cookbooks in my collection. Not that it's a high bar to cross, but still, it's something.