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Sunday, July 1, 2012

Another day, another Betty.

Sunday! Judging from my BFF Betty Crocker, decades ago, women were slaving away in their kitchens making a nice Sunday dinner or planning the MOST EXTRAVAGANT party ever! If this book is any indication, then we have ourselves a treat ahead of us! For the record, I will be stuffing myself with MSG ridden Chinese buffet this Sunday. How relevant is this? It's relevant in the sense I'm not having a wonderful Betty Crocker inspired meal with my family decked out in their best, my son's hair parted properly, and my daughters in matching ruffled dresses that I sewed all by myself! I'm just not that talented.

Here's a behind the scenes example of what the book looks look like before I scan them. When I first stated blogging, I was lucky if I had 10 tabs. Sometimes the tape shows up in the picture but I've discovered the hard way that 1950s paper doesn't always like sticky tabs.
Betty Crocker's Party Book, 1960
I promise that I don't entertain often. I also promise that I will not turn first to this book every time I entertain. I promise that if I entertained, my party will be fun for me as well as my guests. So many promises, Betty. At least I know I will keep mine.
Not saying I've been to a lot of parties, but I can say that the parties I enjoyed the most, I can't recall what happened. No, I don't think I ever said with all sincerity "Thank you for inviting me to your lovely party." Chances are I was escorted out babbling and snickering away. I'm speaking on behalf of those who went to these kinds of parties.
A fine example of a hostess-to-be as she organizes her gallant affair. If I had such a board in my house, the pencil would be gone. There would be an action figure wrapped up in the string and hanging, non-erasable marker would be all over it and a cute drawing would be taped on there.
You read it here! Garnishes should be edible! Grab fistfuls of that kale and parsley and chomp away! Betty deemed it acceptable so there's no reason to eat a Perfection Salad.
I am hard pressed to find a child who is intrigued by supper in little ribbon-tied boxes. With deviled eggs? They might be intrigued by what that horrible smell is coming from the boxes mother had ready in the refrigerator ahead of time.
What a wonderful idea to make your children and their friends think you are a bigger moron than they already think you are! Let them know your knowledge of ethnic cuisine is highly limited. In 2012, there is a good chance the mustard comes from China and the hot chili sauce comes from Mexico. Why bother even trying to act like you know something? Just serve the dang hot dogs and give them the condiments. No need to broil the wieners and butter toast the buns. You can tell them this fare has nothing to do with being a "sailor and sailorette". They might believe that.

The above picture shows how to make the below cakes. It's really that simple. Have a 5 year old draw the pattern, carve up a cake and decorate it like Snoopy. No other directions needed.
Just remember the garnishes are edible. BS to Betty. B.S.

The young hostess and her mother are in line for dunces of the year with this party. Mother (me) does not want to study hula hand language by myself. Mother (me) is too busy planning this thing. Mother (me) is not going to teach a bunch of One Direction lusting preteens "Aloha Oe" or even try to tell them the story of the brave Queen Liluokalani. I may be a mother and probably lost my "cool" credentials the moment my children were yanked from my uterus, but I have SOME dignity. Mother does not equate making an ass of ourselves.
There's no "although" about it. Don't kill yourself trying to have an Italian-Style Supper Party either. Just get your wallet and pull out some money. That's all they want. Don't kid yourself into thinking otherwise.
Ay, Jing-a-di-jing hee haw hee haw
It's Dominick the Donkey.
jing-a-di-jing hee haw hee haw.
De Italian Christmas Donkey.
Lalalalalalalalala. lalalalalaladidooda. 
Ummm, if you are a good hostess and have a bangin' party, then the only thing your guests are going to want for their New Year's Eve dinner is going to be the Clear Consomme. If you are that determined to serve them tomato aspic cubes over tossed greens then don't get butt hurt because nobody eats anything. Hangover food is not jiggly tomato aspic or a greasy crown roast of pork.
That pig is way too happy to be a roast suckling pig. Really, photographs would do this right. Not a cute little cartoon with a grinning pig and sharp utensils that are about to slice into it. The garnishes can be edible. Enjoy that necklace.
Does anybody know why Martha Washington loved nothing better than entertaining friends at Mount Vernon? Because she didn't have Betty Crocker books. That's why. This really is going all out for a day that isn't even a school holiday in most states.
And if I served this on February 18th or 26th will it make a difference?
Oh I know what you are thinking. What beautiful handcrafted eggs! They are nothing like what we do with colored vinegar water and a white crayon! I thought so too until I saw those smug little bunnies in the background.
Gil the fish model surrounds himself in potatoes and lemon while decoy Gil sits by and inflatable Gil looks downward.
Are these supposed to be cute little Easter decorations or a Zombie family? Should they be exclusive from one another?
What better way to honor our fallen by making a vegetable scarecrow that has absolutely nothing to do with Memorial Day.
Hate to break it to you, homophobe Betty of the archaic 1950s, but gay people can have normal picnic accessories. They can even have a normal picnic cloth. I know, shocking.
This would make a great Independence Day salad especially for July 4th. Especially if it sits out all day. Can anything really smell worse than the above ingredients if they sat out all day? Eggs, mayonnaise, sour cream, mustard, pickle. Think of that next time you plop that on your fine paper plate.
Brilliant idea!! Let's spray paint perfectly good fruit and make it bigger and better than the turkey and cranberry mold! That's a conversation piece. Nobody's going to be impressed by that bird. Nobody is going to quiver in anticipation as the man of the house clangs his carving knife and big meat fork together. No, they are going to be high as a kite from sniffing the fumes of spray paint. They might even eat the lima beans.
I'd have that expression on my face too if the axe that's going to behead me is right there and I don't have the hands to grab it and throw it far away. Then to not be the attention of the guests about to eat me because they are too busy sniffing the fumes of gilded fruit and stuffing lima beans down their gullet.
Either I am morbid or the artist who drew this picture is morbid because this does not look like a little girl unwrapping a present and finding a doll.
AAAAHHHH!! This is one of the worst Betty Crocker Santa Claus! Tell your kids that this Santa is who will be creeping around their house late at night. Maybe you will save a lot of money by not having to play the whole Santa farce. Sure you might destroy Christmas. At least you can save up for a fun holiday or something instead of toys they will break in less than a week.
The Christmas spread that has been planned, cooked, organized, silver polished, candles lit. I don't know if the hostess expected her guests to be stick figures or if the stick figures expected real food. Quite a kerfuffle!
At the bridal shower there was no Magic Mike, no alcohol, no funny toys or cutesy lingerie. No, the ladies wanted to bring home the fact the future bride was about to lose her identity and become a 1960's housewife. They cleverly filled the bottle with excelsior (I had to look it up. It's fine wood shavings used for stuffing and packing), corked the top, made a head using a vegetable brush, scrub pad hat, and arranged it on sponges. The bride to be burst into tears and ran into the bedroom, hopes and dreams coming down to that ugly little doll.
Don't you love how the groom is already asserting his dominance. He smiles sweetly and affectionately down at his new bride while gripping her arm. Here's to happily ever after!
Another day has been spent devouring the charm and guise that made Betty Crocker a household name. 

Now it is time to buffet myself to the point of self loathing!

Until next time! Have a great Sunday! 

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