Hey, Mom! Where's the Beef?

This 1974 book asks the eternal question: "Hey, Mom, What's Ta' Eat?" and the cover appears to answer it with ... I'm not sure what exactly. Coffee or tea and maybe baked apples with marshmallow cookies on top? Some kind of mousse? Anyway, it has a cherry and only a passing resemblance to a cow pie.

The recipe isn't included, though, as this is a stock photo for fundraiser books. I have another book (boringly titled Family Favorites) from an entirely different church with this exact same photo.

Even if the members of the Woman's Missionary Society First Church of God in Springfield, Ohio, don't make baked apples with bad wigs, they do have their own distinctive way with recipes.

This one piqued my curiosity:

Crazy Crust Pizza sounds like fun-- just make a batter, cover it with any pizza toppings you like (aside from sauce and cheese), partially bake, add your sauce and cheese, and finish cooking. Is it crazy enough it just might work, or will you end up with a sad and soggy pancake-ish "pizza" (that can only be referred to as such with the use of scare quotes) at the end of cooking time? I'm almost curious enough to try to find out, but the operative word here is almost.

I usually expect the candy section to be pretty safe (unless I'm in a health food cookbook), so I don't often post candy recipes. The people of Springfield had their own unique way with candy and popped in something unexpected:

Good old Beef Candy! Have you ever hoped to find shreds of beef in a nice block of penuche? If so, that recipe was for you....

Occasionally Springfieldians seem good at comically missing the point. I love the topping on this recipe:

I'm assuming that "Kellogg's K" is supposed to refer to Special K cereal. You know, the diet cereal. I'm not sure anyone who worked on formulating it really envisioned it being mixed with butter and almonds to top a casserole full of mayonnaise and cream soup, but it's doing just that! Maybe the typical corn flake or breadcrumb topping was considered too boring, or maybe somebody wanted to give Special K a little fun for once and let it go on a high-cal vacation.

(Fun Fact: Back when I was little and thought women were basically required by law to have children, I thought "Amandine" would make a lovely girl's name. I was much happier when I realized that I personally didn't have to have kids if I didn't want them, and I'm sure little Amandine is very happy she never came into existence. That would be a tough name to deal with.)

Speaking of missing the point, this is the first pickle recipe I've seen that makes pickles out of pickles:

I laughingly told the gentleman who apparently finds me endearing more often than not about this recipe.

"Are they turning the pickles into a different kind of pickles?" he asked, trying to point out that this is not necessarily as funny an idea as I thought.

"Yes," I admitted.

"See? There is a point to it."

"Yeah, but they want to make the pickles suitable for an ice cream topping," I replied.

"Well, I tried defending them, but now I see your point."

That seems like as suitable an ending as any, so I will leave you contemplating whether Sweet-Sweet Pickles are indeed worth defending.