The Complete Book of Outdoor Cookery (1955) is a collaboration between the well-respected cooks and authors Helen Evans Brown and James Beard.
I often find the menus and attitudes more engaging than the recipes themselves:
That's an interesting assumption that readers have fancy friends, who are surely sick of common upscale dinners like Tournedos Béarnaise and must be treated to grilled eel or roasted kidneys at their own separate party. Readers with some prole friends might want to give those commoners Tournedos Béarnaise with new potatoes, green beans almondine, and a bottle Vosne Romanée as an act of charity, though.
A lot of these recipes remind me that I'm not looking through a Betty Crocker cookbook.
This one does start out with an electric skillet or chafing dish, so it might seem akin to some of the good old home-cooking books (if not actual outdoor cookbooks!), but then it ends with adding Cognac to set the steaks and sauce ablaze. That's not how Betty's recipes usually work! Serve this one with fresh asparagus, Cabernet Sauvignon, and fresh pineapple and berries mixed with eau de vie de framboise... Nope, not a Betty Recipe. She'd recommend canned asparagus and end with pineapple and raspberry sherbets.
The book isn't all upscale, though. There are a few recipes for rich people who want to pretend they're slumming.
Minute steak, sautéed onions, fried potatoes, beer, and apple pie with cheese-- it's less pretentious, though it sounds more like something to whip up indoors on a particularly blustery fall day than something to make for an outdoor party.
My favorite dinner might be this (maybe literally?) heart-stopping upscale/ downscale combo:
Salisbury Steak Béarnaise is basically a two-to-three-inch thick hamburger patty quickly seared on the outside, rare in the middle, topped with a buttery sauce, served with creamy fettuccini Alfredo, and accompanied by cherry tomatoes, pears, and Gorgonzola. I guess it's for people who don't mind cheaper ingredients as long as they are slathered in and surrounded by (often expensive) dairy.
You know, even as a prole, I can recognize the appeal of that.