Just the tips

Since my failed lemon meringue pie fiasco, I figured this blog is the first place you look for cooking tips since I clearly have all the answers.

Okay, that's sarcasm, but I wanted some kind of pretext for showing you the adorable page of cooking tips from Coastal Carolina Cooking (Women's Auxiliary to the Ocean View Memorial Hospital, 4th printing, 1963).

Ready?

These are the happiest foods ever! The dairy products are smiling their creamy faces off while standing hand-in-hand with canned goods. (I was frankly more than a little shocked the various food types seem to be okay with the integration, but then I realized that the cans could hold evaporated or sweetened condensed milk. These South Carolina foodstuffs may not be as open-minded as they initially seem....)

In any case, what kinds of cooking tips can we expect from such happy little foods?

We should "Get acquainted with dried beans + peas." Apparently getting acquainted with them involves having them swim out of a pot of water and crowd into a bean bag. I'm not sure where the beans climbing the ladder are going to go, as the bag looks like it's full already. While the ones on top look pretty happy, check out the little guy on the bottom left. He looks pretty pissed off about being squashed, and all the other beans underneath are certainly getting smooshed. The can of peas saluting and holding a flag on shore has the right idea staying out of that mess. He's not really even all that patriotic. He just knows it's a good cover to stay out of the fray.

Other tips are also surprisingly militaristic:

"Inspect your vegetables!" I mean it! Make them line up at attention. If they have blemishes, decay, or soft spots, make them do push-ups until their arms give out, then make them scrub the fridge with a toothbrush.

Some tips are more ambiguous.

Why is the milk singing? And what does it mean by "If you don't drink it, eat it!"?

My first thought is to let it get so sour that it curdles-- but why would you want to eat it then?

(Okay, I know it's just telling us to use milk in casseroles and desserts if we won't drink a glass of the stuff, but my mind immediately went to curdling....)

I was also not sure what these veggies were up to:

The veggie in the pan (looks like a pickle to me, but it's probably supposed to be a potato?) is screaming because he does not want all his vitamins boiled out, but what is the other one up to? Did she escape from the pan (and if so, what's stopping the other one)? Is she an innocent bystander caught up in the drama of watching the other veggie's vitamins be destroyed? And if so, is she getting help? Running away to avoid the same fate? Running off to beat up the hapless cook and avenge her friend's senseless de-vitamining? This inquiring mind wants to know.

If you really want to make your veggies feel special, the book has advice too:

Glamorize your vegetables! Every carrot and radish wants to feel sexy in a gauzy tutu. (And tutus make good eating. Food and floss in the same dish!)

If these tips aren't enough, I leave you with a drink recipe for a balmy weekend on the eve of summer proper:

The mint, lemon, and ginger mix sounds suitably refreshing. I just picked the recipe because I like the picture of the woman being propelled backward through the air by opening a bottle of ginger ale that is clearly meant to be champagne.... Maybe my last tip of the day is if you're going to go to that much trouble, you might as well get real champagne!

Have a great weekend. I'm off to make some of my carrots do push-ups and dress the rest of them in tutus.