The Lazy Editor Diet Book

As if January isn't bad enough, it's also the month that a lot of people start and try to stick to diets. That means today we're checking out Everywoman's Diet Handbook (compiled and edited by Carol Tiffany, 1980). The first thing my significant other said upon spotting this book in the pile of "treasures" we'd picked up at our favorite antique mall was, "It looks like a can of Tab!"

That cover is definitely Tab pink. Good call!

The first thing I noticed as I paged through is that this book is a very lazy project-- mostly just a compilation of various calorie, weight, exercise, and vitamin charts from various sources, along with a few recipes from 1975's The Doubleday Cookbook. The editor was so lazy that the introduction repeatedly refers to this book by that title.

The book recommends the not-particularly-realistic-or-healthy calorie limit of 1200 per day, but it doesn't go into a lot more detail than that. At least trying to figure what to eat is just a math problem and not a math-plus-complicated-logistics problem, like the diets that ask the dieter to figure out how to fit liver into every fourth meal, eat at least one grapefruit per day, and use skim milk powder in unnatural ways. So what might a dinner look like on this diet? 

There's no need to skip a small pre-meal treat! Start with an appetizer like Clam Chickee!

There's nothing like chilled clam juice mixed with chicken broth to whet the appetite. If you're feeling extravagant, you can even "top each serving with a dollop of sour cream," but then it will exceed 20 calories per serving.

We all know dieters need protein, so the main course can be the appealingly-named Economy Meat Loaf.

Mmm mmm! Tastes cheap! I'm not entirely convinced this is significantly lower in calories than most other meat loaves, though I guess using oats instead of crackers as the filler may shave off a few calories per serving, as might using skim milk instead of whole or evaporated milk. 

To counteract the low-end meat loaf, I'll go high end on the vegetable and serve Broccoli in White Wine Sauce.

Again, I'm not really sure what makes this diet-- with both butter and white wine, this seems fairly indulgent, but at least this isn't a book that recommends eating mounds and mounds of plain steamed veggies.

There's even room for dessert. People love apple-y desserts, so we will end with one.

I know what makes this diet! People love apple with fatty carbs-- think apple crisp, pie, strudel, turnovers, etc. This is basically fancy applesauce. Add a little sour cream if you like, but it's not going to make up for the missing pastry...

I guess dieters who tried this regimen were somewhat lucky in that the book offers some small luxuries-- especially ones full of butterfat. The bad news is that the serving sizes have to be pretty small (and the butterfat is often optional and needs to be skipped if you want to stay within the calorie guidelines).

The best news is that none of us ever have to seriously consider downing a glass of Clam Chickee.

Funny Name: Who Made It?

I would really love to believe that the author of this recipe from Country Cookin' (Ross Chapel Church, Bolds Fork, KY, 1977) was an early practitioner of reappropriation and happily owning her sexual autonomy.

However, given that this is a church-related fundraising cookbook from 1970s Kentucky, I'm afraid that Rose Schaffner just didn't know how to spell. 

Country Cookin' Gets Creative

Are you ready for some Country Cookin' (Ross Chapel Church, Bolts Fork, KY, 1977)? 

You might find the illustration of the be-aproned woman cooking on an old-timey cookstove to be charming, but I am worried about the cat getting tripped over or accidentally burned. My favorite thing about the cover is actually the name written across the top. I'm sure it's Peggy Kirk, but the mix of capital and lowercase letters combined with the odd shape of the "g"s makes it look like Pebby Kirk. 

Just like the "g"s in Peggy, the cooks in Bolts Fork seem a little bit tricky. If you see a dessert in an ice cream cone, for example, there's a pretty good chance it's not ice cream. It may, in fact be a pudding cone.

Or if it's a Tutti Frutti Parfait, don't expect tutti frutti ice cream. 

Nope-- a can of fruit cocktail, a cup of mini marshmallows, and a cup of sour cream are the filler-- frozen, though, so you better be prepared to bite into frozen canned fruit.

At least these cones don't claim to be ice cream. Some recipes just blatantly lie, like the Sourdough Pancakes.

No sourdough in sight! Just pancake mix with added yeast, and certainly not aged long enough to turn into an actual sourdough...

Or look at Nine Cup Salad.

I initially thought it was only five cups since I saw five ingredients. Then I realized there are three cups of marshmallows, which would get it up to seven cups. There's no specification for the size of the can of fruit cocktail, but to get it up to nine cups, you'd need a 24-ounce can, which is not really a common size. My guess is that this was to go with the two-cup size, which would mean this is only an eight cup salad. (Or maybe there's a forgotten ingredient, like a cup of crushed pineapple or sour cream?)

My favorite blatant lie, though, is the Cherry Salad.

Graham cracker crust on the bottom, cream cheese in the middle, and cherry pie filling on top? This is a straight-up cheesecake! Putting it into a square pan does not make this a salad! 

Still, I can't blame the good people of Bolts Fork for wanting an excuse to eat cheesecake as a side dish and still have room for dessert. Somebody's gotta eat the pudding cones.

Some post-Christmas sweets

I'm not sure whether Christmas Recipes (Consumers Power Company, 1969) was hoping to make holidays a little brighter for diabetic family members or looking ahead to people's New Year's resolutions by including Lo-Cal Parfaits. In any case, the book does offer a light dessert. 

The layers of low-calorie gelatin, whipped topping, and pudding are surely not spectacular, but also probably not too objectionable... Except for the question of how it all fits together. I would be perfectly happy with any citrus (including lime) and chocolate, or peppermint and chocolate... Lime, peppermint, and chocolate together, though? I think this is a case where two out of three is probably better than three out of three!

If you are not into diet culture, and instead your post-Christmas fun might include trying to recreate old recipes that call for ingredients that don't exist anymore, Chocolate Clackers Crunch offers a nice little project.

This one is hampered by the star ingredient-- Clackers-- being a cereal so obscure that I'd never heard of it before, probably because it disappeared in 1973. The description on Wikipedia sounds kind of like Golden Grahams, but the image in commercials looks closer to Cracklin' Oat Bran. Try getting a box of each and making the candy both ways!

Or just follow my post-holiday sweets tradition and try to find Reese's peanut butter trees on clearance! Cheap, easy, and guaranteed to be good. 

A New Cooking Calendar for a Year Likely to Get Old Fast

Welcome to 2025! I'm sure it will be fine! Just fine! If you wish, just ignore the exclamation points that are giving the entirely accurate impression that I'm trying way too hard to sell a point that I do not actually believe.

This year, we will attempt to distract ourselves from-- well-- pretty much everything by periodically checking in with Cooking by the Calendar (edited by Marilyn Hansen, 1978). (I thought about inserting a few terrible and outlandish scenarios into the previous sentence, but knowing how reality works lately, I was kind of afraid they would somehow come true, but worse...) In any case, my copy of the book is a library discard and looks like this:

I like the way the design team seemingly failed to think things through, as the months written on the tiles are so low that the last third of the year is covered up by food. (Either that, or the art team thought the year ended in August.)

Each month has a special feature at the beginning, and January's is dishes to make with quick-cooking rice and canned soup. There's a whole spread on skillet dinners:

Plus another one on casseroles for those who want to turn on the oven to help warm the house:

I know that things like quick-cooking rice and cream-of-something soup don't get nearly as much love now as they did in the 1970s, but I have to admit that I am a sucker for that combo. Let me replace diced ham with Tofurky ham or ground beef with some veggie crumbles and I would absolutely go to town on most of these.... (Well, except for the ones with mustard or excessive onions. You know I can never be content with anything!)

The January chapter also has a section on citrus fruits since they're in season, offering ideas like Orange-Tomato Pork Chops.

Not only does this feature oranges, onions, and tomatoes together, but it also adds some avocado slices to heat up at the end. This all just seems wrong to me, but I know my tastes tend toward the safe side, so part of me is cringing and part is wondering if reasonable adults think this sounds acceptable or perhaps even good....?

The final part of each chapter features the vegetable of the month, and January's is onions. There are some old favorites, like French Onion Soup, but I was more amused by a very '70s appetizer: Parmesan Onion Thins.

People really loved baking things with mayonnaise on top back then. I'm not sure how thrilled guests would be about white bread covered with a slice of raw onion topped with hot, cheesy mayo, but maybe it could help the host keep the appetizer plates full. If you make poppable fried shrimp or crowd-pleasing pigs in a blanket, you'll spend the whole night refilling the apps. Offer Parmesan Onion Thins, and hosting duties might be much easier (not to mention cheaper)!

Here's hoping for a cheap and easy new year, I guess? We can hope for anything we want, but reality does not always comply. And on that cheery note, your little sunbeam is ending this post.

A matter of perspective

 There's no recipe for today because I couldn't resist commenting on the strange moralizing on the back cover of Better Homes and Gardens Recipes for Entertaining (1972). 

What could happen if you don't use the cookbook to plan your next party?

That's right, you'll be "The unorganized hostess who should have done some planning," hair up in curlers, food boiling over, dirty pots and pans scattered everywhere, colander draining on the counter because there's no room in the sink.

My moralizing caption would be more like "Person who invited guests over wishes she would have had the foresight to realize she'd prefer an evening alone with her lovely cat."

Those who heed the book's instructions have a picture-perfect evening to look forward to, at least according to Better Homes and Gardens.

Yes, she's "An organized hostess who is prepared when guests arrive," her hair perfectly coiffed, martinis ready to mix, pots and pans under control, and the salad requiring only a last-minute toss.

Of course, my caption might be a bit different for this one too: "Organized party planner blissfully unaware that guests resent her smug ass."

If you want to do some moralizing, Better Homes and Gardens, then I get to do some too. And as you celebrate the last few days of 2024, reader, enjoy them however you see fit-- even if you're happiest home alone with a lovely cat.

A Consumers Power Christmas

Happy Wednesday to all, and merry Christmas if you celebrate! Today, we'll party by looking at Christmas Recipes (Consumers Power Company, 1969).

I love the image of Santa cooking on his avocado-green stovetop. He's fancy, too, with the cutting-edge-for-1969 microwave above the range. I'm kind of worried that he might have blood splatter on the oven doors (both conventional and microwave). Maybe he was trying to inspire the holiday slasher movies that were still a few years away? Santa really was cutting-edge!

Okay, enough with the Santa slander... (I won't even mention his uncomfortable-looking and unsafe stirring method or the odd choice to put a huge, hot appliance in the middle of the room rather than, say, against a wall.) Let's look at some of the promised Christmas recipes. I was shocked to see that this small booklet (quite possibly distributed for free) from the late 1960s had color photos, so we're going to enjoy the meal recommended in those photos.

We'll start out with the beverage, so heavenly it's apparently attended by an angel. 

The yellow hue may suggest this is egg nog, but it's not! (The clump of orange rind floating in the middle is a clue to its identity...)

It's Citrus Punch with Frozen Orange Mold! (The rind is supposed to be a flower.) This concoction is basically fancied up orange-grapefruit juice. I wasn't sure what the connection to Christmas was, but maybe the angel is there to show the juice is kind of the same color as her hair? So, Christmas!

In any case, the main spread looks far more Christmassy.

On the left, we have Spicy Turkey Roll! It's a reminder that "spicy" used to mean something very different. Now, of course, it usually means heat from peppers, like habanero or jalapeno.

Then, it meant that the cook used at least one flavoring agent in addition to salt and pepper. In this case, that's barbecue sauce thinned out with wine or grape juice. So, sweet turkey!

The Dilly Beans in the middle look so cute with their pimento poinsettia!

They consist, rather unsurprisingly, mostly of green beans and dill seed, but alliums, parsley, lemon, and additional pimento brighten them up for the holiday table. 

The Curried Fruit, as far as I am concerned, looks like a stomach ache waiting to happen.

Cans and cans of fruit (likely in heavy syrup if we're talking 1969!), plus 3/4-cup of additional brown sugar and a swad of red and green maraschino cherries to make it Christmassy... Instead of admitting it's just a casserole dish full of sugar, though, throw in a bit of curry powder and call it a side. That way, there's still room for a nice dessert the elves can use to warm up their hands.

At least, I think that is what's supposed to be going on in this picture. The elves see the flames in the middle of the pie and see a good opportunity to get their tiny hands warmer. Either that, or the red elf is trying not to barf on the mincemeat. It's kind of hard to tell what elves are up to. 

Setting the Cranberry Mincemeat Pie aflame is a memorable way to end a meal... Even more so if it's accompanied by roast elf. (It's helpful to add a little savory to round out all the sweets in this meal.)

In any case, I hope you get to have something you love to eat today! I'll be enjoying "Pistachio Salad" with a family that readily admits that yes, it is actually a dessert.