Showing posts with label Mayonnaise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mayonnaise. Show all posts

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Kitschmas 2021: Tropical Tuna Salad!

 


Based on Banana Salmon Salad from "500 Delicious Salad Recipes", Culinary Arts Institute, 1951

3 ripe bananas, diced

1/2 cup diced canned pineapple (about 2 slices)

1 1/2 cups canned salmon

1/4 cup diced celery

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon chopped pickle

Mayonnaise to moisten

Mix bananas and pineapple together. Add flaked salmon. Fold in remaining ingredients. Garnish with crisp lettuce or other greens and lemon slices. Serves 8.

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Kitschmas 2021: Avocado Strawberry Ring!

 

"It's a delight to serve a light green and vivid red delicacy." - 

The Joys of Jell-O

1 package Jell-O Lemon Gelatin 

1/2 tsp. salt

1 cup boiling water

3/4 cup cold water

1 tbsp. lemon juice

3 tbsp. mayonnaise

1 avocado, pared and mashed

1 pint fresh strawberries (or use 2 packages [10 oz. each] Birds Eye Strawberry Halves, thawed and drained)

Dissolve Jell-O gelatin and salt in boiling water. Add cold water and lemon juice. Chill until slightly thickened. Stir in mayonnaise and avocado, blending well. Pour into a 3- or 4-cup ring mold or individual ring molds. Chill until firm. Unmold and fill center of ring with berries. Makes about 2 1/2 cups gelatin, or 5 servings.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Cheese Slaw!

contributed by James Fitzpatrick, Harwood, MD

I really can't write anything that would do this justice. It's slaw, made of cheese. Just watch. Be sure and stay tuned for a musical selection at the end.

PS - don't eat it like it's the last food you'll ever eat, or you be sorry the next day.
Our Rating: ZERO Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.) 

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Peanut Butter Dipsies!

Party Perfect, 1960
contributed by Amy from Iowa City
New fan Amy from Iowa City writes:

Hi Dr. Bobb,

I found your blog a few weeks ago and I love it! 

I have a recipe request for you.  This is a recipe for "Peanut Butter Dipsies" from the 1960 edition of Party Perfect (images attached).  Could you please make it and try it out on Dr. Husband?  I need to know if I should make this for my next Saturday night get-together.  My husband refuses to try it :(


Thank you so much for all that you do - your blog is AWESOME!


Amy from Iowa City has done everything right - a recipe, pictures, and PLENTY of complimentary salutations. If you'd like to be at the top of my list like Amy from Iowa City, just drop me a line here! (or on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or Tumblr. Or Instagram.)

Now, then, let's see about these Peanut Butter Dipsies.  Nothing fancy, but plenty that
sounds horrific:

Peanut Butter Dipsies

1 cup peanut butter (smooth or crunchy)
1/2 cup mayonnaise
3 hard-cooked eggs, chopped
1/4 cup pickle relish, drained
1/2 tsp salt
3 slices crisp bacon, crumbled
30 small round-shaped pieces of bread

Combine peanut butter, mayonnaise, eggs, pickle relish, and salt.  Mix until blended.  Spread on bread rounds and top with small pieces of crisp bacon.  Makes 30 small 
sandwiches


Is your mouth watering yet? Well, let's see how it goes!

Our Rating: Three and a half Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Tropical Cocktail!

A Year of Canned Pineapple Treats, date unknown

Our Rating: Four Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Monday, March 17, 2014

St. Patrick's Day Salad

contributed by Dr. Bobb
As long-time followers will know, today's ingredients are very dear to my heart, as the very first recipe on the blog, Guess What Salad, involved corned beef and Jell-O.  I was anxious to try something similar, now that my methodology is more precise, and my palate for gelatin-meat combinations much more refined.

Knowing that I wanted my dish to incorporate both corned beef AND cabbage, I went in search of a suitable recipe. The closest to what I had in mind was from Knox On-Camera Recipes (1960), the instructions to which are found below:
I followed the instructions to the letter - as you know, working with Knox requires the accuracy and precision of a scientist - but for whatever reason, the cabbage layer just wouldn't set up right. In desperation, I just went ahead and mixed it all together, in hopes that the gelatin in the corned beef layer would prime the cabbage gelling process, and left it overnight to chill, but no dice. So i dumped the whole mess down the disposal and started from scratch with my own concoction, a mélange of the above and this recipe, with lime Jell-O replacing the Knox just to make it extra-St. Patricks-y.

1 box (3 oz.) Lime Jell-O
1 cup boiling water
1/2 cup cold water
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup shredded green cabbage 
1 cup mayonnaise
1 12-oz. can corned beef, diced
1/2 cup diced celery
1/2 cup sweet pickle relish

Dissolve Jell-O in boiling water. Add cold water, lemon juice, and salt.
Spread cabbage in bottom of  8-inch square baking dish or ring mold. Add just enough Jell-O mixture to cover cabbage. Chill until slightly firm.

Meanwhile, add remaining ingredients to the remainder of Jell-O mixture. Spoon onto cabbage layer. Chill several hours or overnight. To serve, unmold and cut into squares.

Guest taster Patrick (because it's St. Patrick's Day - see what I did there?) has a go at the finished product:


Our Rating: Zero Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Sailor's Delight Salad

invented by Dr. Bobb!
A couple of months ago, I took a stab at inventing my own gelatin salad (a trendy orange/basil/jalapeno concoction).  It sounded swell on paper, honest. The results were filmed, but will likely never see the light of day; the filming happened the same day as Lime Turkey Mold, which resulted in Dr. Husband's first (and only-so-far) taste-and-purge, and so it's a bitter memory for us both.

Now, though, I feel a bit more prepared for recipe creation, and instead of trying to be all artsy-fartsy I stuck to basics, and limited myself to ingredients I had on hand.

Since it contains cabbage, this salad is obviously based on the classic Perfection Salad, a staple of church suppers and school cafeterias well into the 1970s.  Perfection Salad's existence can be traced back to at least 1905, and almost always involves cabbage, and sometimes olives, pimientos, lima beans, carrots, celery, pineapple...essentially whatever old crap you might have in the icebox and want to foist off on your unsuspecting family or guests.

Usually the salad is presented in lemon or lime flavored gelatin (or, originally, in unflavored) but I didn't have either of those flavors on hand, so I went for color palate.  Which brings us to the name, "Sailor's Delight". My grandmother Mrs. White, had the climatological acumen of most turn-of-the-20th-Century farmgirls of her day, and one of the surefire ways to predict tomorrow's weather was by the color of the sunrise and sunset - i.e.,  "Red at night, sailor's delight; Red at morning, sailors take warning." (Her method of telling when a cloudy day would turn sunny - "It'll clear up if there's enough blue in the sky to patch a Dutchboy's pants" - is not quite as reliable, I'm afraid.)
So, Sailor's Delight, because it's red. Also, the vitamin C in the beets and cabbage will prevent scurvy!

On to the recipe:
1 box (3 oz.) orange gelatin
1 box (3 oz.) cherry gelatin
2 cups boiling water
2 cups cold water
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons vinegar
2 cups shredded cabbage
1 can beets, diced

Dissolve gelatin in boiling water. Add salt, vinegar, lemon juice, and cold water. Arrange cabbage and beets in a rectangular baking dish. Pour over gelatin mixture. Chill until firm. To serve, cut into squares; top with mayonnaise if desired.

I know what you're thinking, and quite frankly, I had my doubts too.  So what did Dr. Husband think?
Don't forget you can come and hear us sing, if you're near the Eastern panhandle of West Virginia!
If you can't make it, then come two days later in Annapolis!
And if you happen to be in the North Carolina Research Triangle, and can do without hearing Dr. Husband, then come hear me in Chapel Hill!
Our Rating: One Screaming Husband!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Monterey Soufflé Salad

contributed by Star-Kist Tuna, ca. 1955
Welcome back!  Thank you for all your kind encouragements during the 12 Days of Kitschmas, and, thank you to my legions of fans who were thoughtful enough to send me this Buzzfeed article listing "21 Truly Upsetting Vintage Recipes." Upsetting?!? Clearly Buzzfeed, whomever that might be, is reflexively reacting to the listed ingredients and not going to the trouble of making and tasting the recipes, like I do for you.  In fact, #21 on their list, which they labeled with a horrified "?????????", has already been made, tasted, and Dr. Husband-approved in the Historic test kitchen!

So, for our inaugural post of 2014, I've made another "horrifying" dish from Buzzfeed's list, #14, Monterey Soufflé Salad. (I've had dozens of requests to do #2, Ham and Bananas Hollandaise...which I will do, but I had the ingredients for Monterey Soufflé Salad in the house, and I'm lazy, so there.)

While assembling the dish, I formulated a theory, the theory being that fish combined with gelatin in delicious, and will please a man's palate. For support, I offer these past dishes, as well as today's offering. (I am willing to admit the possibility that it might be the mayonnaise that gives these recipes the edge, but...)

Here's the recipe, as presented in Star-Kist Tuna promotional materials, circa 1955:
1 pkg lemon-flavored gelatin
1 cup hot water and 1/2 cup cold water
2 tbsps lemon juice
1/2 cup Hellmann’s or Best Foods Real Mayonnaise
1-1/2 can Star-Kist Tuna
3/4 cup chopped cucumber or celery
1/4 cup sliced stuffed olives
2 tbsps chopped pimento
1/2 tsp grated onion


Dissolve gelatin in hot water. Add cold water, lemon juice, real mayonnaise and 1/4 tsp salt. Blend well with rotary beater. Pour into refrigerator freezing tray. Quick chill in freezing unit (without changing control) 15 to 20 minutes, or until firm about 1 inch from edge but soft in center. Turn mixture into bowl and whip with rotary beater until fluffy. Fold in remaining ingredients. Pour in 1-quart mold or individual molds. Chill until firm in refrigerator (not freezing unit) 30 to 60 minutes. Unmold and garnish with salad greens and serve with additional real mayonnaise, if desired. Yield: 4-6 servings.


I did use the name brand tuna and mayonnaise as directed. The only alteration I made was cutting back on the amount of pimiento, as I often find that the flavor overpowers the dish.

Also, it's my first try at whipping partially-chilled gelatin - you'll hear Dr. Husband comment on how light and fluffy the dish is, and that's why! There are lots of extended gelatin techniques I've discovered in old cookbooks, which I'll be sharing this year, so stay tuned.

Anyway, what did we think?

A couple more items of business:

If you're near the eastern panhandle of West Virginia, you can come hear Dr. Husband and I sing!

You can also like and follow us on Facebook, or on Feedspot if that's more your speed. (I'm determined to become an internet sensation by the beginning of summer, so your support is always appreciated. Tell all your friends!)
 Our Rating: One Screaming Husband!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Saturday, December 21, 2013

The Ninth Day of Kitschmas: Yuletide Mold

Yuletide Mold
Better Homes and Gardens Holiday Cookbook
Not a lot to say about this, it's pretty dismal, as you'll see in the video. For a more festive and pleasing avocado-based mold, you'd be better off with the Avocado Strawberry Ring, or variation thereof.

1 1/2 enveloped unflavored gelatin
1/2 cup cold water
3/4 cups boiling water
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon grated onion
2 dashes Tabasco sauce
2 1/2 cups mashed ripe avocado
1 cup dairy sour cream
1 cup salad dressing or mayonnaise

Soften gelatin in cold water; dissolve in boiling water. Add lemon juice, salt, onion, and Tabasco. Cool to room temperature; stir in avocado, sour cream, and salad dressing. Turn into six-cup mold; chill till firm.  Unmold on greens; trim platter with orange sections.

Tastes like salty mayonnaise. In gelatin. Best to avoid.




Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Krab Mold

Krab Mold
contributed by Bryce Westervelt, Selden, NY
So it's four days til payday, and Dr. Husband hasn't given me my grocery budget, and I had a hankering for a bagel with lox, but couldn't afford lox, so I got imitation crab meat (henceforth known as "krab") thinking that any old fishy thing plopped on top of cream cheese would suffice.

I was wrong, in case you were wondering.

No sooner had I bemoaned my fate on Facebook (oh, hey, did you know the Kitschen has a Facebook page? Like us!) than loyal reader Bryce sent me a recipe to use up the rest of my krab meat.

Oh, hey, and you still have time to contribute to Bryce's kickstarter!

This isn't technically a retro recipe, as krab meat was first introduced in Japan in 1973. As you probably already know, Alaskan pollock is commonly the main ingredient of krab, often mixed with egg white or other binding ingredient, such as the enzyme transglutaminase. Crab flavoring is added (either artificial or crab-derived), and a layer of red food coloring is applied to the outside.

So, here's the recipe:
8 ozs imitation crabmeat (finely chopped)
3/4 cup green onion (finely chopped)
1 cup mayonnaise
11/2 tbsps worcestershire sauce
1 tsp garlic powder
3 tbsps cold water
11/2 tbsp unflavored gelatin (1 envelope)
10 3/4 ozs cream of mushroom soup (1 can)
8 ozs cream cheese

Mix first five ingredients together. Heat soup and cream cheese together until cheese is melted. Remove from heat, let stand 5 minutes. Stir into crab mixture. Dissolve gelatin in water*; stir into mixture.  Pour into mold.  Chill at least 4 or 5 hours.

*It doesn't say so here, but you'll have to heat the gelatin mixture to dissolve the granules before adding it to the mixture. It's science, you know!

Not that this was terribly hard to put together, but for the same amount of trouble you could dump everything (minus the mayonnaise - in fact, I'm not even sure why the mayonnaise is here in the first place) into a crock pot, turn it on low, and be done with it. Serve it with crackers as a hot dip. Not that the resulting cold mold isn't delicious, as you'll see below, but - I mean, hot cream cheese with meat. What could be more wholesome or natural?

Let's see what Dr. Husband thought:

Our Rating: One Screaming Husband!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Avocado Salmon Mold

Avocado Salmon Mold
Better Homes and Gardens "Salad Book" ca. 1969,  p. 107
A thoughtful former student recently gifted me the delightful 1969 of Better Homes and Gardens' Salad Book, which you'll be hearing a lot more about in weeks to come, because it's filled to the brim with gelatinous horrors with which to torment Dr. Husband. 
 (Full disclosure: today's recipe is actually called Salmon Avocado Mold, but since I said it wrong on the video below and am too lazy to re-shoot, you'll have to live with calling it Avocado Salmon Mold.)  

Better Homes and Gardens proclaims, in the recipe description: 

“A spectacular salad for a foursome is the Salmon Avocado Mold. Frosted with an avocado dressing, cut wedges are pretty on the plates. It’s a do-ahead beauty to make the hostess’ job easier.”

I don't know about the easier part. I must re-state my assertion that dealing with canned salmon is the most distasteful act that a housewife will ever have to deal with (apart from - you know - wifely duties).  I bought a more well-known name brand of canned salmon for this recipe, in the hopes that I could avoid the omnipresent bits of scale and one found in the off-brand, but my hopes were dashed immediately.  

The rest of the recipe came together fairly quickly (with the exception of the grated onion - help me out here, ladies, was one once able to purchase onion already grated, or was it always an onerous task?) 

So here we go, the recipe as printed:

1 envelope unflavored gelatin
1 cup cold water
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon vinegar
2 teaspoons grated onion
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon prepared horseradish
1 16 ounce can salmon, drained, flaked, and small bones removed
1/2 cup mayonnaise or salad dressing
1/3 cup sliced pitted ripe olives
1/4 cup chopped celery
For the dressing:
1 large avocado
1/2 cup dairy sour cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
Curly endive



In saucepan soften gelatin in the cold water. Stir over low heat until gelatin is completely dissolved. Add sugar, lemon juice, vinegar, onion, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and horseradish. Chill till mixture is partially set. Fold salmon, mayonnaise, olives, and celery. Spoon into a 3 1/2 cup mold; chill till gelatin mixture is firm. To prepare dressing, peel and mash the avocado (about 2/3 cup). Blend together the avocado, sour cream, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Chill. Unmold salmon salad onto serving platter. Spread avocado dressing mixture evenly over the outside of salad. Garnish with curly endive and a lemon twist, if desired. Makes 4 servings.
I will admit to being in a bit of a rush, so I didn't quite let the concoction come to a partial  set before adding all the gunk in.  But it did set up beautifully nonetheless.  I was a little dismayed that  my mixture didn't turn out as pink as the demonstration photo promised:
and even considered adding a bit of red food coloring, but didn't have any.

I also couldn't taste any horseradish in the final product, so if you fancy a spicier version, be sure to up that amount.

As I said, the dish firmed up beautifully (I left it overnight), and spreading the avocado frosting on was a breeze, even though the avocado I used wasn't quite as ripe as I'd have liked.  I was worried that the addition of salt in the frosting would make the whole dish too salty, but it didn't seem to bother Dr. Husband or I in the least.

In fact, ladies, he loved it, I think he liked it more than I did:

Our Rating: One Screaming Husband!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Monday, July 29, 2013

Special-ish Edition: Cucumber Dream

Cucumber Dream
Joys of Jell-O p. 66, adapted by Dr. Bobb

I was torn about writing this up as a regular post, or as a special edition...the recipe originated in the "Joys of Jell-O" recipe book which is, one might say, my literary muse. I varied the recipe to the extent that I used an ingredient not available to mid-century housewives, but since husband didn't know the ingredients I did a standard blind tasting. Also, I have been laboring under the impression that the recipe was actually called "Cucumber Dream", but just now in looking up the ingredients I see that it's actually called "Cucumber CReam."  I'm going to stick with my own title, if it's a; the same to you, since I changed the recipe and all.

Whatever your feelings on cucumber, you may or may not feel revulsion at the thought of encasing it in gelatin.  It seems to show up in the most unexpected of places (cucumber martinis, forcrissakes!) these days, so my audience may shrug their shoulders en masse and carry on with their lives.  I went into this thinking it would be cool and delicious on a hot summer's evening, and that's exactly what it was. And husband....let me tell you something, ladies, if you want to please your man, start feeding him a steady diet of Jell-O.  He can't go two days without it, I'm not even kidding.  He makes it himself now, if I'm not quick enough on the ball.  I don't know if three's anything I could put into a mold that he wouldn't gratefully accept (but I'll keep trying, don't worry).

So, the recipe as it originally appeared:

1 package (3 oz.) Jell-O Lime or Lemon-Lime Gelatin
1 tsp. salt
1 cup boiling water
2 tblsp. vinegar
1 tsp. grated onion
Dash of pepper
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 cups drained minced cucumbers

Dissolve Jell-O Gelatin and salt in boiling water. Add vinegar, onion, and pepper. Chill until very thick. Blend in sour cream and mayonnaise. Then fold in cucumbers. Spoon into individual molds. Chill until firm. Unmold on salad greens. Makes about 4 cups, or 8 side salads.

I made this on a whim, so found myself without lemon or lime Jell-O (I know, right?  Like garlic and onion, lemon Jell-O is something one should always have in the house!) and I didn't have any sour cream either. But I did have a box of "Melon Fusion" Jell-O.  So here's my altered recipe:


1 package (3 oz.) Jell-O Melon Fusion Gelatin
1 tsp. salt
1 cup boiling water
2 tblsp. vinegar
1 tsp. grated onion
Dash of pepper
3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 cups drained minced cucumbers

Dissolve Jell-O Gelatin and salt in boiling water. Add vinegar, onion, and pepper. Chill until very thick. Blend in mayonnaise. Then fold in cucumbers. Spoon into individual molds. Chill until firm. Unmold on salad greens. Makes about 4 cups, or 8 side salads.

Also, as you can see, I just made one large mold.  I can't be expected to pull out my individual molds unless there's company to impress and/or horrify.

The video tasting:

Our Rating: Zero screaming husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)


Saturday, April 27, 2013

Mock Guacamole

Mock Guacamole
submitted by Janet Seal, location unknown
compiled by Linda Taylor


How fondly I remember my childhood in the sun-dappled fields south of San Luis Obispo, when we children would pluck artichokes fresh from the stalk, and Maria (our kindly maid) would make us her homemade hollandaise to dip the fresh-steamed leaves in.  When mother and father returned from solving their most recent murder mystery...

...oh wait, that was my pretend tv family, not my actual family.

My actual family, in the suburbs west of Columbus, Ohio, DID have hollandaise, but mock hollandaise - mayonnaise, lemon juice and garlic powder, microwaved into a yellowish blob of goo with the viscosity of shaving cream.  Still, pretty close to the taste of actual hollandaise with less than half the effort of making it.

Which led me to believe, naturally, that any foodstuff with "mock" preceding it was supposed to approximate the taste of the food it was mocking. Spoiler alert in case you don't want to read to the end:  I was wrong.

A recent second-hand store find was the colorful binder pictured below, titled "Linda Taylor's Recipes" on the front, and full of hand-written and newspaper-clipped recipes lovingly pasted, scrapbook-style, onto pieces of notebook paper.
Mock Guacamole, found only six pages in, perhaps comes from the days before you could find six bushels of avocados languishing in your grocery's produce section, ready for purchase year-round.  It also seems to be a dietetic alternative to real avocados, before we knew that some sorts of fat were good for you (though, as it appears on the same page as bacon-wrapped scallops, I'm not sure that's what Linda Taylor had in mind).

At any rate, it's horrific.

Here's the recipe:

2 (10 1/2-ounce) cans cut asparagus, drained.
1 cup finely chopped tomato
1/4 cup finely chopped onion
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon reduced-calorie mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/4 teaspoon hot sauce

Position knife blade in food processor bowl; add asparagus. Process until smooth; transfer to a mixing bowl. Stir in tomato and remaining ingredients. Place mixture in a paper towel-lined wire-mesh strainer or colander, and let drain 1 hour. Cover and chill at least 3 hours. Serve with baked tostito chips, instead of fried.

Don't get me wrong, I love asparagus. Fresh, preferably, but I'm not opposed to canned if it's all that's available.  But let me tell you something, there is NO WAY to process asparagus until "smooth". It's stringy and slimy and lumpy, and to make it smooth would defy the laws of physics.

Already suspicious by the texture of the pureed asparagus, and skeptical of the upcoming instruction to drain in a paper towel-lined colander, I threw caution to the wind and went ahead and used real full-fat mayonnaise. It didn't help.

What we thought: Husband wouldn't touch it, leaving me to taste-test it myself.

It's canned asparagus run through a food processor. That's exactly what it tastes like. Horrible. This is coming from someone who's eaten Banana Salmon Salad and Ring-Around-The-Tuna. Don't make this, even as a dare.
Our Rating: I don't know...what's the rating when Husband won't even try it?

(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Friday, April 19, 2013

Avocado Strawberry Ring


Avocado Strawberry Ring
"It's a delight to serve a light green and vivid red delicacy."
Joys of Jell-O, p. 41


Surely you'll have noticed by now that it's not a ring at all.  Which can be easily explained by my hurry in trying to get this ready to actually take to a neighborhood gathering. Aren't I the daring young thing?

Reading the recipe in print, it seemed like sort of an unusual combination to me, but an acquaintance I was talking about it with nonchalantly reported that she used to eat avocados and strawberries laced with balsamic vinegar quite frequently as a child.

As for me, I never even heard of avocados until about 1986, long past my childhood.  Maybe I was just sheltered, for I've come across more than a few mid-century recipes calling for them, and my crack Googling skills tell me that using them in sweet dishes isn't all that unusual at all.

The recipe:
1 package Jell-O Lemon or Lemon-Lime Gelatin (I used Lemon - do they even make Lemon-Lime anymore?)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup boiling water
3/4 cup cold water
1 tbsp. lemon juice
3 tbsp. mayonnaise
1 avocado, pared and mashed
1 pint fresh strawberries (or use 2 packages [10 oz. each] Birds Eye Strawberry Halves, thawed and drained)

Dissolve Jell-O gelatin and salt in boiling water. Add cold water and lemon juice. Chill until slightly thickened. Stir in mayonnaise and avocado, blending well. Pour into a 3- or 4-cup ring mold or individual ring molds. Chill until firm. Unmold and fill center of ring with berries. Makes about 2 1/2 cups gelatin, or 5 servings.

As mentioned above, I was in a hurry, so I did the first chilling in the freezer, which may have been a mistake as it got a little too firm before adding the mayo and avocado.  The finished product was a little lumpy as a result, not the shimmering sea-foam green delight promised by the Joys of Jell-O photo illustration. I only have one ring mold, and I'm not sure the recipe as printed would have made enough to adequately fill it, another reason I chose the loaf pan shape.  


I am also excessively proud of my decorative skills, which looked better in real life than the picture above would lead you to believe.

What we thought: I took this dish to game night at the neighbor's, not knowing that the hostess has a known distaste for avocado. Nonetheless, she gamely took a taste, and then she and her other guests set about guessing what was in it (Husband was on his way, but hadn't arrived yet).

Surprisingly (to me, at least) the avocado adds a creaminess to the sweetness of the lemon Jell-O /strawberry combination somewhat like a cheesecake base.

"Creamy, refreshing and cool" is what husband had to say when he arrived.

I am a convert. I'll probably try this again, or at least try combining avocado with a fruit salad.




Our Rating: Zero Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Banana Salmon Salad

Banana Salmon Salad
500 Delicious Salad Recipes, p. 8
One of my recent eBay acquisitions was the delightful "500 Delicious Salad Recipes" published by the Culinary Arts Institute in 1951.  A wonderful compilation, valuable for its extensive instruction on home-made dressings alone, as well as an entertaining primer from the dawn of congealed salads and HOLY CRAP BANANA AND SALMON SALAD
Being that the recipe was published in 1951, it's undoubtedly a nod to the craze for "Polynesian" foods that swept across middle class America from the late forties through early 70's.  (If the thought of Polynesian Restaurants and Tiki Lounges dotting the landscape doesn't make you nostalgically melancholic, then you're probably in the wrong place.)

We can largely credit Victor "Trader Vic" Bergeron and his chain of restaurants for igniting the craze, and satisfying the hunger for foreign-esque foods that our boys had brought back from the Pacific theatre of World War II.  The formula is simple:  take any savory substance, preferably a roasted meat of some kind, and add overwhelming amounts of a sickeningly sweet glop, like grape jelly, pineapple, or maraschino cherries. Or a combination of the three.  Add a banana for a little texture variation and, voila! you've got yourself a backyard luau!

(The rise and fall of Polynesian cookery is superbly chronicled by Jane and Michael Stern in their books The Encyclopedia of Bad Taste and American Gourmet, both sadly out of print but well worth tracking down.)

So, here we go:

3 ripe bananas, diced
1/2 cup diced canned pineapple (about 2 slices)
1 1/2 cups canned salmon
1/4 cup diced celery
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon chopped pickle
Mayonnaise to moisten

Mix bananas and pineapple together. Add flaked salmon. Fold in remaining ingredients. Garnish with crisp lettuce or other greens and lemon slices. Serves 8.

Let me state at the outset that canned salmon is a horrid thing. Unlike canned tuna, a can of salmon contains bits of skin and bone and is a messy reminder that what you're about to ingest actually came from nature.  So "flaking" (otherwise known as "meticulously picking through to ensure that you got all the tiny needle-thin bones out") is a necessity.  And the intoxicating smell of salmon being flaked is sure to attract an attentive audience.
Also, there's a very fine line between "dicing" and "pulverizing" bananas.  Use a delicate touch, gals, and make sure that your bananas are not over-ripe!

I wasn't sure about the last two ingredients:  "chopped pickle"....was I meant to chop my own, or was there actually once a product called chopped pickle that one could buy?  Should I chop dill or sweet pickles?  Since another recipe in this book specified chopped dill pickle, I assumed sweet was what was wanted, so I just used garden-variety sweet pickle relish.

And mayonnaise to "moisten"...I used a heaping tablespoon, which from the resulting consistency of the dish may have been a bit too much, but if I've learned anything thus far, it's that mayonnaise never hurt anything.

What we thought: Not wanting to alert Husband to the presence of fish and banana in the same dish, for the taste test I made him close his eyes while I ladled a dollop of the salad into his mouth.  I recorded his impressions, which are transcribed below:

"Why would you mix all those flavors and textures together?"

"Did I just eat egg, and...green pepper, tuna, and.....strawberry?"

"Can I have another bite?"

"Are there potatoes in that?"

"Definitely celery."

"It's so confusing! Is there tuna in this? Chicken?" 

(I then showed him page 8 of the book and told him that the recipe was on that page.)

"Oh My God it's Banana Salmon Salad. Oh that's delicious!  That's canned salmon? Bobb that's fantastic!"

For my money, it's awfully reminiscent of good old American tuna salad.  In fact, it tastes almost exactly like tuna salad, if tuna salad had bananas in it.  If I make it ever again, I'll just go ahead and use tuna, to avoid the hassle of picking through the salmon.  I honestly can't even distinguish the pineapple taste, so if you're tempted to try this at home, you might up the amount to give it more of a Polynesian exoticism.
Our Rating: Zero Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Guess What Salad (aka Welcome to the blog)

Guess What Salad
contributed by Mrs. Stewart Rowles, Newman, Ill.
Favorite Recipes of America: Salads p. 158




Oh, okay, I'll take a guess.....um, vomit?

Hello, retro-gastronomes, welcome to Dr. Bobb's Kitschen, where I'll be tracking down and meticulously re-creating the swank company food that our parents and grandparents served at their fancy dinner parties and backyard barbecues, the kind of food that can alternately make you squeal with glee or spend the night on the commode.


My chief source of inspiration is a set of cookbooks I "borrowed" from my mother, called Favorite Recipes of America. Staff Home Economist Mary Anne Richards explains, in the preface, that "The Recipes in...FAVORITE RECIPES OF AMERICA were selected from the more than 100,000 recipes in my files to represent regional cookery at its very best...Each of these favorite American Recipes was home tested by cooks across the nation just like you. Every homemaker endorsed her own favorite recipe. Her name appears under her personal recipe. You'll treasure the many recipes in this collection which will become your favorites."

The copyright date is 1968, but the general flavor of the recipes collected therein (no pun intended) leads me to believe that the recipes were collected over the 1940's and 50's - lots of congealed salads, thrifty ways to stretch your ingredients, a submission from Mamie Eisenhower - that sort of thing.

I had thought that the books were bought and owned by my mother, but apparently not. A handwritten note found inside the MEATS volume read:

Dear Dorothy,

Have a Happy Birthday! And a happy summer. See you in Wichita!

Lovingly,
Mary Helen


Dorothy would be my grandmother. In 1968, any trip to Wichita would be owing to her duties as Past Supreme President of the Social Order of the Beauceant, a title she would boast of frequently, though when she said it it came out all as one word (PassupremeprezdentatheBeauceant). Her duties as Past Supreme President took all over the world, including (but not limited to) Alaska, Scandinavia, and seven times to Hawaii (four times as an escort).

I have no idea who Mary Helen was, but she must not have been a very close friend, otherwise she would have known that the only book my grandmother would have need of would be the volume called CASSEROLES, especially if it had a chapter called "Casseroles containing cans of water chestnuts and crushed potato chips".

For this project, my self-created rules are:

1. I will follow the recipe ingredients and measurements to the letter, which is a struggle as I tend to eyeball measurements and add ingredients that I think would benefit the recipe.

2. Whenever possible, I will use ingredients that I, in my furtive imagination, think would have been readily available to a housewife of the fifties or sixties. Knowing the advances made in food preservation and transportation since then, for example, I will eschew a major national brand of a particular product in favor of a lesser known, regional brand. The exception being Jello-O brand gelatin, which is de rigueur in the preparation of congealed salads (unless the recipe calls for unflavored gelatin, in which case I will use Knox).

3. Each recipe will be blindly taste-tested by my husband, himself a Doctor (of music, like me...don't worry, I'm sure in the course of the blog I'll be revealing all sorts of delectable details of our life together) - that is, he will taste each recipe before knowing what the ingredients are. If he manages to get a bite down without vomiting, he will then be told the ingredients and see if that influences his final rating. Though I will gladly contribute my own comments on each dish, the final rating will be determined by him, who for our purposes here will serve as my breadwinning 1950's suburban husband.

And yes, we're both men. If you have a problem with that, stop reading. Or just get over it, like the rest of the 21st Century.

4. For now, my only source of recipes is the aforementioned five-book set. Once I have some petty cash (lovingly known in my household as "Lucy's allowance from Ricky") I will search up some antiquated cookbooks in used book stores. But I'll gladly accept recipe submissions here, if you don't have the stomach to make it yourself.


So, Guess What Salad, containing as its main ingredients canned corned beef and lemon gelatin, is part of a section of salads which all contain canned corned beef and lemon gelatin. They are so numerous, they got their own subheading - "Corned Beef Salads". Who knew?

The recipe is as follows:

1 box lemon gelatin
1 8-oz. can corned beef
1/2 c. mayonnaise
Dash of salt
1 c. finely chopped celery
2 finely chopped slices onion
1/4 c. chopped olives
4 chopped hard-cooked eggs
1/4 c. chopped green pepper

Make gelatin as package directs, using only 1 1/2 cups liquid. Let set until gelatin has begun to set; mix in remaining ingredients. Chill until firm. Yield: 12 servings.

One thing I noticed right away was that old-timety recipes apparently have no use for listing ingredients in decreasing order by how much is used, which I thought was standard practice. One would think the editors would have taken care of it, but apparently they just printed off Mrs. Rowles' recipe exactly as it appeared on the careworn index card she mailed in for consideration.

The recipe immediately preceding this one, called simply "Corned Beef Salad", is almost the same recipe except that it calls for the addition of 1/2 c. V-8 juice. Since V-8 juice makes me gag all by itself, I opted for this recipe instead.

Ingredients bought for this recipe:

1 box lemon Jell-O brand gelatin

1 12-oz. can Deltina brand Corned Beef ( I got Deltina brand because I'd never heard of it, and guessed that it might be regional. They apparently don't make 8-oz. cans of corned beef anymore, at least not that I could find. Breaking my own rule right away, I eyeballed 3/4 of the can's contents, which would be roughly 9 oz., and used that in the recipe. Also, though not indicated in the recipe, I sliced the corned beef and then cubed the slices, for easier mixing).

1 jar Publix brand Salad Olives (mysteriously, by the time I got home, the olives which looked so normal in the store had lost all their pimento fillings, and the pimentos had settled to the bottom of the jar. I don't recall driving erratically or getting swept up into a cyclone, and have no other explanation for the loss of the pimentos. I chose Publix brand because they were the smallest, and I figured would be of a size and variety widely available to a 50's housewife shopping at her local market. What I DON'T know is whether or not jarred olives of the past were stuffed with pimentos - but since magazine illustrations of the day of martinis clearly show pimento-stuffed olives, I assume they were. Not that it mattered, since most of my pimentos had settled to the briny bottom of the jar, beyond my reach).

I fruitlessly searched for a gelatin mold at Publix - since this is my initial venture, I haven't had a chance to scour the town for one. No such luck, and none of their disposable cake tins seemed to be exactly right, so for this recipe I used an Anchor Ovenware Casserole dish, pictured below.



Ingredients already in the fridge:

Hellman's Mayonnaise (I suppose, now that I'm a Southerner, there's some other brand I should be using. I'll ask Paula Deen about it and get back to you).
Celery
Onion (Vidalia)
Eggs (Brown Extra Large)
Green Pepper

It seems to me this recipe left an awful lot to the maker's discretion - like, should I add the ingredients to the Jell-O one at a time, or all together? In order as they are printed? Were there standard techniques to making congealed salads that everyone knew back in the day, but that have become lost to the ravages of time?

I just had to make my best guess at technique, so while the Jell-O was chilling, I mixed all the other ingredients together in the Ovenware Casserole dish, and then added the Jell-O in to that. This was perhaps the wrong way to go about it - I probably should have chilled the Jell-O in the Ovenware, and mixed the other things in a separate dish. At any rate, I left the completed salad in the refrigerator for about four hours, which is what the Jell-O directions called for, and this still didn't seem like quite long enough - the completed mold still seemed a bit loose and sweaty. Plus, shortly after completing the artful photographic arrangement below, the mold developed a fissure right down the middle, and by the time Jet arrived home it had nearly split in two.

The V-8 Corned Beef Salad recipe called for chilling the salad overnight, so perhaps that was standard practice. I DID use the loosening technique that every good congealed salad maker should know (setting the mold in warm water for a few minutes, and running a knife around the edge of the mold before turning it on to the serving platter).

I didn't taste the salad until Jet arrived home, and remember, husband is not to know the ingredients until after his first taste. I should explain that husband was returning home from a fourteen-hour workday, and was very hungry, which worked in my favor - I'm not sure he would have been quite so eager to try it had that not been the case.

His comments, in the order in which they occurred:

"It's not deplorable."
"Jesus, I'm hungry."
"There's corned beef in this, isn't there?"
"Who the hell puts corned beef in lemon Jell-O?"
"You know what's missing from this? Being drunk."

So, ladies, I think we've all learned an important lesson. If you want to keep your man happy, make sure he's had an extra-long workday when you serve up his slop, and have plenty of booze on hand.

What I thought: the dish is slightly reminiscent of ham salad - ham salad encased in lemon Jell-O. As husband observed, it's not deplorable, but....who WAS the first pioneering soul who decided that potted meat and lemon gelatin would be an ideal complement to one another?



Our Rating:
One and a half Screaming Husbands 

(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)