Some highly impractical treats for September

According to Cooking by the Calendar (edited by Marilyn Hansen, 1978), "September's air is softer now, and its blue sky has a warm serenity after the hot fever of late summer." I don't remember necessarily feeling that way when I was a kid crammed into our not-at-all air-conditioned school where girls were policed for shorts that were too short and anything that might show a sliver of bare shoulder, but it's still a nice sentiment.

As for what we should cook in September, the book suggests we might want to make beef jerky to take as a snack on a late camping trip.

This book really loves recommending putting food outside to dry. Just make sure this beef jerky is dried "on string, away from animals." I keep wondering if Hansen has actually encountered any animals, as she doesn't seem to be aware of how innovative and persistent they can be when food is involved. I can just imagine going outside to see the steak covered in bugs and/or disappeared by cats who figured out exactly how far they had to jump and/or climb to get the goods. If you're going to bother with jerky, I say make it inside, even if it heats up the house.

If you'd rather enjoy fall's bounty of apples than worry about drying out beef, you can make Northwestern Apple Candy.

It's a gelatin-thickened applesauce with some walnuts for good measure. You know. Candy. I'm not sure what the confectioners' sugar at the end of the ingredient list is for, either. Maybe this is thick enough you're supposed to cut it into little squares and roll them in powdered sugar, but that's just a guess. I didn't cut off the end of the recipe. The last step is just "Refrigerate overnight." (My last step would probably be to forget about it for a few months and then pitch it when I needed the fridge space and couldn't remember wtf it was supposed to be anyway.)

Most amusing for me, though, is the section of "Back-to-School Lunch Treats." I assumed this chapter title was intended to imply that you could make these recipes and send them as part of a packed lunch. And then I read them and wondered if Hansen was aware of the mechanics of a 1970s paper bag or lunch box or had even met school-aged children.

The chapter offers a series of whimsical, fun-shaped sandwiches, like a sailboat.

Fun, but there is no way this elaborate concoction is going to make the back-to-school rush easier for the person packing the lunch or even make it to school at all.  The cream-cheese spread sail and boat parts suggest this sandwich is open-faced. And then there's the matter of the celery mast, the carrot flag, and the decorative olive row. There would be absolutely no way to pack this thing, especially in the '70s before the bento box craze.

Similarly, "The Bug" has an elaborate construction process involving cheese rounds, sliced-up and carefully-arranged bologna, and a whole series of veggie accoutrements to form the eyes, mouth, and antennae.

There's a reason the instructions for these mention putting the bread on a plate. There's no way the sandwiches wouldn't immediately become piles of ingredients if you tried to add them to a paper bag. But at least I can imagine a school-aged child who wants to be a sailor liking the idea of sailboat sandwich, or a budding entomologist who would think a "bug" sandwich might be a cool lunch. 

The other "back-to-school lunch treats" seem more like they're for the preschool set. Nobody except the most hopelessly spectrum-y kids (No shade! I was certainly one of them, even if my fixations don't involve transportation.) would think that having or even discussing a Choo-Choo Train sandwich could result in anything less than immediate public shaming. 

I'm not sure it's possible to get even more "toddler" than "Choo-Choo Train," but if it is, then it's a Jack-in-the Box.

The only real saving grace for these sandwiches as far as actual school-aged children are concerned is that there is no way they would survive being dragged to school, and they're probably too elaborate for mom to bother with anyway during the back-to-school rush.

Kinda makes me glad the worst thing my mom did with my school lunches was passive-aggressively sending the exact same perpetually uneaten baggie of raisins to school with me for weeks at a time.