Kitschmas by Request: Kipperoni!

 

Eggs a la King!

Better Homes and Gardens Holiday Cook Book, 1959

Happy Easter! Ish. I hope it was splendid for you, and equally I hope that you've come here looking for things to do with all your leftover hard-boiled eggs, I've got just the thing.

(It involves cream sauce, there's literally nothing that could go wrong.)

And before I forget - if you're anywhere near Helena or Butte, Montana, Dr. Husband and I will be performing there later this week. Just go one over to the Montana Early Music Festival for all the information.

Now, Eggs a la King is the sort of thrifty meal I grew up on, in a time when no leftover was allowed to linger in the fridge until it was time to be thrown out. Everything thing had a use and every single scrap of food was put to use within four days of its original purpose (to be honest, in mmy zaftig family there were very few leftovers after a family meal, despite the fact that that if there were four people coming to dinner, my mother cooked for ten. But.)

First of all, you need to be steaming your eggs instead of boiling. I tried it for the first time tonight and I will never do it any other way. They were cooked perfectly after 15 minutes in the steamer basket, no holes had to be pricked in the shell, no cracking while cooking, and the shell peeled off like magic.  

Second of all, I believe I could eat almost anything if it came in a cream sauce.

So, Eggs a la King. Here's the recipe as it appears in 1959's Better Homes and Gardens Holiday Cook Book:

To 2 cups medium white sauce, add 6 sliced hard-cooked eggs, on 3-ounce can (2/3 cup) broiled sliced mushrooms, drained, and 2 tablespoons catsup. Heat. Pour over hot buttered toast; top with thick broiled tomato slices. Makes 6 servings.

I'm flattered that BH&G thought I would have white sauce at the ready, but I didn't. For authenticity, I used a basic Betty Crocker recipe:

 

2 tablespoons butter or margarine

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 

1/4 teaspoon salt  

1/8 teaspoon pepper 

1 cups milk  

In 1 1/2-quart saucepan, melt butter over low heat. Stir in flour, salt and pepper. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture is smooth and bubbly; remove from heat. Gradually stir in milk. Heat to boiling, stirring constantly; boil and stir 1 minute.

Dr. Husband was literally jumping in his skin to taste it, and what did he think? 

 

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.)

Summer Salad!

The Joys of Jell-O, p. 52

I'm assuming most of you live in America, and thus have been suffering under cruelly cold weather - I live in a nearly 200-year old house as well, which soaks up the cold and makes it frigid even on the off days that the thermometer is above freezing. So, I thought I'd bring a little summer into all of our lives, with this delight from the Joys of Jell-O cookbook circa 1963. A delicious, lovely salad that displays the bounty of the season, the book says. Because nothing says summer like rough-cut vegetables suspended in gelatin!

Summer Salad holds pride of place as the back cover illustration for 1963's Joys of Jell-O:

Based on that illustration alone, I didn't hold out much hope for this entry, never mind the version I ended up with on my own. But a wish gastronomic friend saw a preview of today's post and, unprompted, remarked "...it looks like fresh tomatoes, celery, green pepper, and cucumbers in a simple gelatin. If it is favored with a vinegar and garlic base, it could be quite wonderful." I'll be damned if he wasn't right.

Vinegar, yes, but no garlic - lemon Jell-O is the base, and we all know that's the key to success when adding vegetables or meat. Sour it up with vinegar and salt so the sweetness doesn't overpower, until such time as my humble efforts prompt a resurgence of Jell-O mania and they bring back celery and Italian dressing flavors. Here's the recipe:

1 package (3 oz.) lemon Jell-O gelatin
1/2 teaspoon salt or onion salt
1 cup boiling water
3/4 cup cold water
1 tablespoon vinegar
1 small tomato, cut into thin wedges
1/4 cup sliced celery
1/4 cup sliced quartered cucumber
few slivers green pepper
dash of oregano (optional)

Dissolve Jell-O Gelatin and salt in boiling water. Add cold water and vinegar. Chill until very thick. Fold in remaining ingredients. Pour into a 3-cup or 1-quart mold. Chill until firm. Unmold on crisp greens. Garnish with more tomato, if desired. Makes about 3 cups, or 6 side salads. 
NOTE: If desired, substitute 1/2 cup sliced radishes for tomato or 1/2 cup chopped cauliflower for cucumber.

No substitutions here (and no oregano either, if you were keeping track). What did my discriminating guests think?

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.)

Tomato Pineapple Surprise

The Joys of Jell-O (1960)

 

I'll be perfectly blunt: today's post is less about the recipe (which didn't sound altogether disgusting to me) and more about featuring my new collection of Mirro brand Copper-tone Molds (with Alumilite finish!) which I fetched at an antique mall in Burlington, NC, mint in box for nine dollars. YES, NINE DOLLARS. 

Another ten bucks for my long-coveted fish mold (still with the Mirro-brand sticker affixed) and it was a happy day, indeed.

The Aluminum Manufacturing Company of Two Rivers, Wisconsin, was incorporated in 1895, inspired by the white-metal wonders from Germany that had been featured at the Columbian Exposition of 1893. In 1909, they merged with the Manitowoc Aluminum Novelty Company in neighboring Manitowoc, and a legend was almost-born! (FUN FACT: Manitowoc Mayor Justin Nickels, is one of the youngest serving Mayors in the US!)

The company's early days were spent producing heavy-gauge, high-quality pots and pans for the emerging American housewife, as well as combs, compacts, and other "novelty" items.  By mid-century, they had expanded to become almost entirely a cookware manufacturer, including the radiant molds you see above!

(You can find a more exhaustive history of Mirro, at least up through 1955, in the 1955 edition of The Mixing Bowl, downloadable here.)

Now, the recipe - a pretty standard tomato aspic variation from 1960's Joys of Jell-O. I apologize for the lack of originality, but it was my first time home in three-and-a-half weeks. I'll have a little more imagination next week.

You CAN make the below without the pineapple (it which case it's called just Tomato Surprise - "A can of flavorful stewed tomatoes becomes a tempting mold!" - if you do so, eliminate 1/2 tsp. of the vinegar and the allspice.)

1 can (1 lb.) stewed tomatoes
1 can (8 3/4 oz.) crushed pineapple
1 package (3 oz.) Jell-O Lemon, Lemon-Lime, Strawberry, or Mixed Fruit Gelatin (I used Lemon)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 tablespoons vinegar
1/8 teaspoon allspice

Pour tomatoes and drained pineapple into saucepan, saving cans to use as molds (I used one of my new fancy molds.) Bring mixture to a boil; add Jell-O Gelatin, salt, and allspice, stirring until dissolved. Add vinegar. Pour into mold or cans. Chill until firm. Serve with mayonnaise, if desired. (You'll desire it, trust me.)

Dr. Husband has a history of not minding tomato aspic, so I wasn't too worried about the tasting:

Our Rating: Two 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.)

Party Sandwich!

Cookindex (1958) via vintagerecipecards.com

I'm on the road this week, but that won't stop me from cooking up potentially-disgusting recipes to foist on unsuspecting husbands all across America.  This week, we take a trip to lovely-ish Florence, SC, where Dr. and Mrs. Substitute were kind enough to put me up and help me in my culinary endeavors.

Florence, as you probably already know, is the site of an almost-calamity in 1958, when an atomic bomb accidentally fell out of a plane and landed in someone's back yard. Whoops!  Luckily the plutonium core didn't detonate, but there's a crater nonetheless, which you can visit to this day!

On a lighter note, Florence is also the soon-to-be-home of Seminar Brewing, Florence's first commercial craft brewery! (I can personally, and highly, recommend the Carver Peanut Butter Porter).

So, off we go. Party Sandwich is one of the gems presented by our friends at Vintage Recipe Cards, an invaluable source of kitschy recipes when I'm away from my cookbooks and in a jam. If you're too lazy to click the link, here's the recipe:

1 small round loaf Italian bread
Softened butter or margarine
Ham and Celery Filling, see below
Curried Egg Filling, see below
2 tomatoes, thinly sliced
Avocado Filling, see below
Cream cheese, about 1/2 lb.
Light cream
Sliced stuffed olives
Springs of parsley

Cut loaf, crosswise, into four thick slices. Spread each slice with butter. Spread bottom sliced with Ham and Celery Filling. Top with second bread sliced; spread with Curried Egg Filling. Top with slices of tomato and third bread slice. Spread with Avocado Filling; top with remaining bread slice. Mash cream cheese; stir in enough cream so cheese will spread easily; beat until smooth. Spread on top and sides of loaf. Garnish with olive slices and parsley. Cut into wedges to serve. Makes about 12 servings.

HAM AND CELERY FILLING: Combine 1 cup ground cooked ham, 1/2 cup chopped celery and enough mayonnaise to moisten.
CURRIED EGG FILLING: Combine 4 finely chopped hard-cooked eggs, 1/2 teaspoon curry powder and enough mayonnaise to moisten.
AVOCADO FILLING: Mash 2 fully-ripe avocados; add 2 tablespoons highly-seasoned French dressing. String until well blended.

You'll notice that the first step is to spread the bread with butter. This seems to have been a thing back in the day, at least according to my grandmother Mrs. White, who started every dish that could even be tangentially considered a sandwich (including hot dogs) with a liberal spread.

Once your bread is sufficiently buttered, you can start assembling your fillings. Mrs. Dr. Substitute was a great help in the kitchen this week, as was Chester, a great huge lumbering creature with two different colored eyes.

Mrs. Dr. Substitute was concerned that the ham "salad" didn't contain pickle relish; I argued that the sweetness might clash with the curried egg mixture, but in hindsight, the dish as a whole is such a mishmash of mayonnaise-y flavors that it probably wouldn't have mattered a whit.

I must also praise Mrs. Dr. Substitute for her insistence on homemade French dressing, she made about a gallon just to provide the measly two tablespoons needed for the avocado layer.

Once you start adding mayonnaise into your mixtures, the gentlemen in the house will sit up and take notice!

So, once you assemble and combine all your layers, you will be faced with icing your creation. I recommend securing the "sandwich" with a skewer before icing (and leave it in place for the slicing). Also, be prepared to have some slopover avocado and egg mix in to your icing.

When you're finished, add your olive and parsley garnish. You'll arrive at something roughly looking like this:

Based on our scientific slicing technique, I'd estimate that this sandwich will provide about 8 servings.

But enough about science, how does it taste?

And, seriously, if you want to be a guest kitchen, drop me a line!

Our Rating: Two 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.)