(Occasionally) Meat Cookery

I expected Wilson's Meat Cookery (George Rector, 1941) to be a somewhat scary book. The cover may look a bit plain, what with all the fruits and vegetables piled around a sliced ham, but the interior of the book advertised a bunch of Wilson's "delicacies."

These included "Mor" (which looked very similar to Spam).

Got to love the cheese stripes on top and canned peach halves along the sides! That's some classy Mor!

And you know I would be intrigued by a cookbook that seemed to promise sailboat-shaped knockoff-Spam appetizers and pickle-and-canned-meat striped sandwiches.

Plus, the book advertises an entire array of other canned meats:

Yes, Wilson's had everything from deviled tongue to canned tamales and chicken à la king to pickled honeycomb tripe.

Naturally, I assumed this book would be filled with recipes for all of Wilson's meats, especially the processed ones.

The author, George Rector, was a restaurateur known for feeding celebrities in his restaurants in New York and Chicago, though, and he did not seem too keen on squandering his good name on recipes for Mor and canned chili.

And based on the cover page, he also seemed intent on assuming a non-corporeal form and creepily watching over families who used his recipes, monitoring them for any signs that they might misuse ingredients.

In short, Wilson & Co. was so happy to get Rector that they didn't seem to care if his recipes only occasionally incorporated ingredients that the company actually sold.

The book has plenty of recipes that don't use meat at all, such as Vegetable Panache:

I imagine the recipe is just fine if you like peas, limas, and string beans, but there would be something quite disconcerting about scooping through a layer of whipped cream to get a spoonful of veggies. After all, creamed vegetables is a common recipe in old cookbooks and unsweetened whipped cream has little in common with, say, Cool Whip, but still... When I'm scooping through a layer of whipped cream, I expect to find dessert under it!

Another recipe that would confound my expectations is this dish of Spaghetti Alfredo:

When I see Alfredo, I expect traditional Alfredo sauce, a white sauce loaded up with cheese and butter. I thought the traditional fettuccine would be swapped out for spaghetti, but no-- this is a tomato and beef sauce named Alfredo after "Alfredo of Rome."

I didn't see too many recipes that seemed to be objectively terrible, though I did, as is often the case, object to a few of the salads:

Cucumber, pineapple, and olives bound with mayonnaise?

The best part of the book is probably the little asides. Rector refers to cauliflower as cabbage "with a college education" and calls garlic "vegetable vanilla," apparently because he believes it is as versatile in savory foods as vanilla is in sweets. (There's no real explanation, so I'm just speculating on that one!) Some asides even get their own standalone paragraphs with illustrations, such as this story that helps explain why so many recipes in old cookbooks are sooooo bland:

I have to love the heartbroken fish crying in its rocking chair at the thought of being cooked in a bouillabaisse seasoned with a mustard plaster from the pharmacy!

I'll leave with a note that shows despite our vast differences, Rector and I do have a little something in common. He likes to talk about terrible food too, as long as it is something made by someone else:

So get out there-- enjoy your day-- and maybe have a waffle or two since they're almost always enjoyable and can make any day better-- as long as they're not topped with whipped cream and caviar!