Mostly stuff grandma didn't make, and one big surprise

Today, I'm posting something very special to me. I inherited my grandma's recipe box. Here is a view of the side, which had a fruit bowl print (repeated on both sides).

Here is the front, which is pretty similar. 

Most exciting of all, this had a flip-up top that could hold a recipe card while the cook... well... cooked.

And for the maybe three readers who don't know me personally, no need for too many condolences. My grandma was 102, heartily sick of everything, and cranky AF. I loved her dearly and miss her, but she was READY to go. (And if you've ever wondered where I get my delightful personality, there's a big clue. 😆)

I wasn't really sure what to expect in the recipe box because I rarely saw grandma use a recipe. She just made stuff. (Again, kinda like me.) When I dug through the recipes, very little seemed familiar. She often had multiple copies of recipes that I don't remember her making even once, like Bisquick's Impossible Lasagna Pie (which made another appearance as "Lasagna Squares").

Or Zippy Zucchini (which had the same name for each appearance).

The Zesty Carrot Salad was stained up enough that I think she probably made it at some point, though I have no recollection of it.

I am not at all surprised to see that she had a variation for an oil-free version, though. Grandpa had heart trouble and this was from the low-fat era. Back then, subbing in Karo syrup was the "healthy" variation.

I saw multiple recipes for things she definitely made, but these are not for the actual versions she made. For instance, I found two recipes for cranberry salad, and NEITHER is the one she made for holidays. This first version doesn't even have Jell-O, and grandma's version was Jell-O based.

The next one has gelatin, but it's missing key ingredients like crushed pineapple and orange juice concentrate.

(If you want to see the recipe my grandma actually used, S.S. from A Book of Cookrye made it a few months ago. It was definitely not in this box.)

Grandma also had a couple recipes for cutout sugar cookies. She made cutouts for Christmas every year (and often randomly at other times too). I still use that same recipe every December and know it's not either of the ones from the recipe box.

I can't really imagine grandma buying cake flour or having cream on hand (well, once they stopped owning dairy cows, anyway...). Weird that she had a recipe calling for these ingredients. (And her version uses both almond extract AND vanilla. It's not a "choose one" scenario.)

Her recipe doesn't use confectioners' sugar or butter, either, so I know this isn't the origin of the cookies she actually made.

My favorite thing about this recipe is the ad on the back for "Mood Watch Ladies."

The ad notes that buyers can use Master Charge to buy this monstrosity, so that dates the recipe to sometime between 1969 and 1979.

But I did find one recipe that I remembered very well, and it kind of choked me up that it was so stained. Grandma must have used it. So you're getting the story whether you want to know it or not, just because I want to tell it.

The summer between high school and college, I moved in with grandma and grandpa. One day when I didn't have to work (I was a cook for a nursing home), they had to go somewhere in the morning and would be home around lunch time. Grandma asked me if I could have lunch ready when they got back and told me to use the ground turkey she had in the fridge. I decided to make up a recipe, and when they got home, my grandpa ate three servings at lunch. He was a man of few words (and generally preferred dessert to anything else), so that was about the highest compliment he could pay. Grandma asked me to write down the recipe so she could make it again.

If you can't read the title, it's "Guidelines for [blank]'s Casserole." (The blank is my real name. I blotted it out, but "Casserole" is nearly unreadable for some reason.) Neither grandma nor I were particularly careful about following recipes and I hadn't really measured anything when I made it anyway, so "guidelines" seemed right for the title.

I had pretty much forgotten about that day until I found this, and I can't believe how clearly I remember it decades later. It's like grandma left me one last present hidden amid all the recipes that I don't remember her making. 

You could find mainstream-America-obscure veggies here in the days before Food Network!

When I initially wrote about The Unabridged Vegetable Cookbook (Nika Hazelton, copyright 1976, but mine is from the 1980 Bantam printing), I discussed how it introduced foods that seem commonplace now but were new to mainstream America back then, like salsa, hummus, and kimchi. I didn't even mention something else that was special about this collection, though. It also includes a lot of vegetables that mainstream readers may never have heard of. The produce is not just European veggies that are rare here, either, but veggies from all over the world, and from cultures that the more mainstream cookbooks tended to either ignore or Americanize so heavily that the original, likely hard-to-find ingredients wouldn't even be mentioned. 

Granted, I don't have the knowledge to judge how similar these recipes are to ones that might be considered "authentic," but I am impressed that these veggies showed up in a mainstream cookbook from 1976 at all.

There are a couple of recipes for akee (more commonly spelled "ackee"), including this one that's supposed to be a beloved Jamaican dish.

As someone with boring European ancestry who lives 50 years after this book's initial print run, I still only knew about a[c]kee from watching Food Network shows.

There's a recipe for calabaza.

I only knew about calabaza from watching Food Network shows.

There's a recipe for dasheen.

I only knew about dasheen from watching Food Network shows.

And there is also a recipe for winter melon. 

I only knew about winter melon from watching Food Network shows.

There's a recipe for callalou (more commonly spelled "callaloo"-- which are the leaves of the dasheen root, if I understood the book correctly).

I only knew about callaloo from... say it with me...

Nope! I tricked you. I don't remember seeing this on a Food Network show. I'm a lazy academic who only knew Callaloo as the title of an African-American literary magazine. So I didn't even realize it was food-related!

In short, while white Americans have learned a lot more about recipes from non-European cultures than we did 50 years ago, this book also shows that a lot of common-elsewhere veggies are still not well-known here. (Or maybe that I'm just hopelessly behind the times? Probably a little of both...)

A workbasket full of berries

Something about the cover of The Workbasket from May 1970 feels a bit like a Barbie doll trying to act enthusiastic about having to wear the hand-knitted vest Aunt Clara made. It only comes out when Aunt Clara visits, obviously, but every time is one too many...

I'm not here for the fashions, though. Even though The Workbasket is mostly craft projects, I get it for the recipes. May was berry month, so there's nothing too terrible-sounding in here. Well, actually, the name of Berry Cream Crowdie doesn't sound too appealing to me.

Anything with a crowd in it automatically makes me nervous! But considering this is just a thick, creamy dessert with a crowd of berries on top, it's not too scary. (And yes, I realize "crowdie" doesn't refer to the berries. Apparently it's a type of soft Scottish cheese, which I'm supposing the gelled milk-and-cream mixture is supposed to approximate.)

May is a good month for strawberries, so I wasn't too surprised to come across a recipe for Strawberry-Almond Pancake Torte.

Waking up to basically a layer cake of pancakes, strawberries, and whipped topping doesn't sound too bad. I am kind of surprised that the editors thought they could get away with calling this "glamourous," though. 

The picture looks more like somebody had an idea for a craft project that involved spackle and coasters, and they gave up halfway through when they realized how poorly it was turning out...

The magazine wasn't too concerned about whether the berries would be likely to be in season yet or not, though, as it also ran a recipe for Elderberry Jam. (Elderberries are more of a late-summer crop than a May one.)

And I'm mostly running the recipe so I can tell my only elderberry-related story. My grandma had just gotten brand new linoleum floors in the kitchen and was so proud of them. When we visited, my dad wanted some elderberry jelly, but had to open a new (home-canned) jar of it, and of course he managed to break it and get it all over the brand-new linoleum. So... that didn't go over well. 

There are also instructions for creating a frozen blueberry puck.

Very convenient when you want to bake a surprise blueberry pie. (Not so convenient if you consider the awkward circular space it will be taking up in the freezer in the meantime.)

And even less convenient when you realize you still have to make your own crust and bake the thing for an hour. (If you want real convenience, it's easier to just buy the pre-made pie.)

If all these fruity desserts seem a little too healthy, there's also a Delicious Cake-Pie Dessert.

So, just in case you didn't think chocolate cake was indulgent enough, this version comes in its own pie crust. (You can tell Workbasket's audience must have been older women since nobody seems too concerned about the coming of swimsuit season!)

And finally, because Lace maker would be disappointed not to know what people were supposed to tat in May 1970, here's the tatting project: Spring and Autumn Mini-Pictures.

These look tiny, so maybe they wouldn't be too hard? (Who am I kidding? Tatting looks super-complicated.)

In any case, I am looking forward to the bounty of berries in the coming months! (And hoping that I don't end up having to clean too many up off the floor, but knowing how clumsy I am, that seems unlikely unless I just bypass the berries altogether...)

Some Very Good notes, misspellings and all!

As much as I make fun of Favorite Recipes of America: Meats Including Seafood and Poultry (1966), I know that whoever owned this book before I did really loved it. How do I know this? They left notes.

Sometimes, the notes are rather minimal, such as those for Pork Chop-Pineapple Casserole.

"Very Good" admittedly doesn't give us a lot to go on, but considering this is their opinion of cream of mushroom soup combined with canned pineapple chunks, it's enough for me to know that this earlier owner and I have Very Different ideas about what is Very Good.

Other notes show that this cook liked to modify recipes to their tastes and what they had on hand, and they wanted to remember those variations. Not only do we know that Oven-Chip Chicken is "Great"...

But we also know that crushed taco chips can be subbed in for the potato chips, and lemon pepper will stand in for the plain pepper. Plus, this person will not let extra butter go to waste (I hear you on that, cook from the past!), and they can always go for a little extra garlic salt.

I did learn that our tastes don't always diverge. In Battuto for Roast Beef, the unknown cook subs in onion salt and garlic powder for actual onion and garlic.

That's something I'd do. Not to get too detailed, but actual fresh alliums tend to make my digestive system unhappy, while a tiny bit of the dried stuff for flavor is usually fine. Plus, this cook would rather use "sesma seed" than caraway seed, a substitution I heartily recommend because caraway seeds taste the way I imagine poison tastes. 

And to round out our recipes with the cook's notes with yet another interestingly-spelled variation, here's Scalloped Potatoes with Salami Slices.

I love knowing that "pepornie" can be subbed in for the salami! And if you want to know what this recipe looks like in black-and-white, this is the only recipe from my selections that has a photograph.

You just have to imagine the darker-gray bits as pepornie circles, rather than salami quarters, for this to be accurate to the variation. 

The extra notes were a Very Good surprise in this book, making me even gladder I picked it up.

Preparing for the First of May

It's almost May! Finally my Home Gardener's Cookbook (Marjorie Page Blanchard, 1974) has more than advice on what to plant in the future accompanied by two or three recipes for whatever random things may be available in a mostly-barren landscape. The chapter starts with asparagus recipes. Blanchard is enchanted by how quickly the vegetable can grow, noting, "One day we see an inch of purple top showing. Two days later we pick enough to fill an omelet. And soon there is enough for the first real meal, with the name 'Spring' on it...." The book makes various recommendations that don't merit a full recipe (such as "The stalks are handsome on pieces of anchovy-buttered toast sprinkled with lemon butter and a bit of sieved egg yolk"), but I wanted to include a full recipe, so here is Asparagus Pudding. (I kind of doubt this is "handsome.")

Luckily, it's not a sweet pudding (though I do have a recipe for asparagus cake if that's your thing). Instead, it's a savory custard filled with asparagus and butter-browned breadcrumbs, topped with a few chives.

Rhubarb is also sneaking up into the world by May, so the book offers a fairly standard rhubarb and strawberry pie. I thought I would go with this more unusual offering, though.

Blanchard claims to have made up this recipe in a year when she was "especially flooded with rhubarb"-- I guess with more than she could fit into a multitude of desserts. If you're the type who likes fruit-and-meat combos, maybe this sounds good-- like a riff on orange chicken?

And of course, herbs start popping up in the spring too! One of the best ways to use them up might be in Tabbouli.

I'd sub in another fresh herb (maybe cilantro) for the onion and use canned tomato in place of the fresh (because I am contrary, if nothing else!), but I love that this is a more herb-heavy variation than the bulgur-heavy kind Americans often make. It definitely says spring is here! And it's a more family-friendly way of greeting spring than singing "First of May." (But hey, if you see the lady who sells ice cream or the man with the tan Shar Pei, tell them I'm over here if they're interested.)

Egging on Asparagus

Spring often puts me in the mood to post some asparagus recipes, so today we're getting them from The Unabridged Vegetable Cookbook (Nika Hazelton, copyright 1976, but mine is from the 1980 Bantam printing). The book really thinks you should serve asparagus and eggs as a main dish, as the Asparagus Milanaise suggests.

Asparagus, butter-fried eggs, and plenty of dairy fat in the forms of browned butter and cheese? Sounds pretty good, although giving a full half-pound of asparagus to each diner might be a little over-generous. At least, it might seem that way until you see the recipe for Flemish Asparagus, supposedly a good luncheon main dish.

The four servings means that each diner is supposed to ingest a full pound of asparagus AND a quarter-cup of butter... (Never mind the weird serving instructions. Just fold up all the asparagus in a napkin and...? Who even has a napkin big enough to encase four pounds of asparagus? Is serving food out of a napkin supposed to be fancy?)

So, celebrate spring by eating a half-to-full pound of asparagus! Or don't! You might feel better if you just polished off that last Reese's peanut butter egg instead.

An exhausting 65-year-old Woman's Day

Ever wonder what the women 65 years ago were thinking about? If so, you're in luck! Today I have the April 1961 Woman's Day magazine for our perusal.

That is, if you can get past the creepy kid on the cover. Seriously, she's so translucent I worry she might be a ghost, and that old-fashioned gingham dress and white gloves and bonnet are NOT helping.

I was honestly more pulled in by the ads than the recipes in this one. One page had an actual advertisement for Catholicism! And as part of the pitch, the ad included this paragraph: "Catholic women may be tempted, at times, unlawfully to limit the number of their children to fit the family income. But the Church reminds them this is a violation of God's law. Likewise, the obligation to provide religious training for their children is not a matter of choice. It is a clear duty." So the selling point is supposed to be "This will definitely make your life even harder! Send away for a free pamphlet today, and you can be even more broke, overextended, and haunted by guilt!"? 

You're probably more interested in the food. I mean, the food stuff is ostensibly why this blog is here. Campbell's had a full page of ads with recipes to describe how to use their products in conjunction with pork chops, my favorite of which was the glazed version.

People like pork chops and applesauce, but this version just skewers an apple slice (plus an orange slice while they're at it!) on top of each chop and then douses the whole thing in cinnamon and cloves. (The soup comes in as a can of beef broth that everything has to cook in.) I can only imagine this as smelling like a potpourri packet gone horribly awry.

For those who would rather have weird meat-and-fruit combos first thing in the morning, a Swift's Premium ad offers recommendations for "Hot, Hearty, Hurry-up Breakfasts for hate-to-get-uppers," including this one for Swift's Premium Corned Beef Hash.

How will a tray full of canned corned beef hash topped with cold apricot halves affect those "hate-to-get-uppers"? My guess is that it will work as intended-- They'll try to get out of the house as quickly as possible so they're not forced to ingest this stuff. (I wouldn't be thrilled with that prospect any time of day, but just the thought of it first thing in the morning makes me a little queasy.)

The magazine itself had mostly very brief or relatively boring recipes, though I did enjoy the title for this one:

I'm not sure how socially acceptable it would be to say you wanted to eat an English thin yellow boy, but apparently it was just a name for bits of hot, seasoned hard-cooked eggs spread on toast...

And I'll close with just a few of the 101 ways to use up leftover ham:

• Serve ham slices with fruit salad. (Use fresh or canned fruit for the salad. Top with dressing made from sour cream and mayonnaise.)
• Spread ham slices with peanut butter, sprinkle with brown sugar, and broil until hot and lightly browned.
• In Stuffed Pancakes: Fill pancakes with [ground or minced] ham and pour over them hot cream-of-mushroom soup thinned with a little milk.
• Use it in Stuffed Peaches: Fill canned peach halves with ham; sprinkle with bread crumbs. Bake in moderate oven about 20 minutes.

Alternatively, just sign up for the Catholic pamphlet and if you do it right, you'll never have to worry about leftovers ever again! The mass of kids will devour every foodstuff you can ever afford to buy the second it's out of the grocery bag...