Clock Punchers

Hello and Happy Thursday or whatever day of the week it is when this finally flits into your mind and never lets go!

I'm thinking of a great and unforgettable segue into the topic for today's blog. But you see, I have to think about dinner and since there just aren't enough hours in the day, I need to find help. Maybe a 1973 Better Homes and Gardens book? Why of course! Good golly, why didn't I think of that? Meals In Minutes. Did you read that? MINUTES. Not an hour, not a half hour. Minutes. Sometimes 30 minutes.

Did that suffice as a cheesy way of getting this ball rolling?

What was with 1973? These recipes are frightful. Good thing my conception was probably in November-December of that year. How's that for clock punching? Since I am of the 1970s, I can assume this would be the least of my worries.

Eh, I know. I need help. Maybe a 1973 Better Homes and Gardens book? 

Okay, I'll stop rambling. We are killing minutes. And every minute wasted is one we will never get back so why spend 120 of them in the kitchen? 

Better Homes and Gardens Meals in Minutes. For the record, I did not pay $2.49 for it. I think I paid 50 cents. I pity the fooool who did pay $2.49 for this book. Exactly what did they get out of it? Heartaches and grief? Gas?

Shrimp-Filled Tortillas with an "avocado mixture" three inches thick on top. Thawed frozen avocado dip (it really says that), sour cream atop deep fried rolled tortillas with canned shrimp filling. Sometimes things just don't need to be explained.

Meatloaf stuffed tomatoes. I will reiterate that sometimes things just don't need to be explained because I cannot come up with an explanation for it.

Imagine this horrible scenerio. So horrible that you willingly pay $2.49 for this book just in case you have that moment where you get home late to a starving, inept family, unexpected guests and having to throw something together between work and social life. It's time someone HELPED YOU! I hate cooking, but I don't hate it this much. Help is here, weary clock punchers. Help is here. I should have used this as my intro.

Is this a lifesaving serum that needs to be delivered on ice where life or limb will be lost? Sorry to disappoint, but it is Creamy Dressing  that is bottled Russian salad dressing mixed with sour cream. It's so fra-gee-lay that it must be encased in ice lest it mold and curdle in a split second.

Salmon Salad. We are punching the clock with this one. Canned Salmon has the potential to go so bad so fast that it is to be served with its own lettuce lined icer. That begs the important thought of what one does to that ice? Is it like milk left after a bowl of cereal? Would someone drink the mayonnaise, salmon water juice, calm water juice, hard cooked egg remnants with the same finesse?

Calling out the B.S. troops on Poached Fish with delectable Almond Sauce. If someone has time to carve out radish flowers, they have time to make something a little less hideous.

The Droste Effect of retro food. Ham in Stuffing Shells. It goes on and on and on.

If i was a shrimp and I knew I was on my way into someone's gut, my headless body would be plunged into a beer butter too. If I'm going down, I am taking everybody with me. Someone is going to get a stomachache from eating drunk buttery me.

Nice eggs standing up identically in their wire racks. Nice copper pots and pans on the wall. Great assortment of wooden cooking utensiles. Cutesy little food mill. Glorious green sprig of herbs. Oh, there's food for me to criticize. Stroganoff meatballs, I barely noticed ye. Sneaky little buggers.

May the eternal flame of Pineapple Jubilee never stop. Seriously. Butterfly effect anybody?

This looks quaint enough. Hearty Fiesta Burgers warm and toasty with crusty bread and a real smoky beverage. If I am going to be a Peeping Tom in someone's window on a cold winter eve, this is what I would want to see while I'm creeping.

Somebody loved Hearty Fiesta Burgers to make a check mark next to the recipe and stain the upper right corner with their Hearty Fiesta Burger fingers. My scanner wouldn't pick it up, but this page is folded. A reminder to return and make this again. 

 

Bologna Bunwiches. In the words of my late father, this is"horsecock.". I've never wanted bologna after that revelation. Horescock mixed with kidney beans and tomato sauce and served on bread. My father would be proud.

Pictures! We need pictures or this never happened!

Ham Sandwich Deluxe. A 12 inch oblong loaf of rye bread, butter, whipped cream cheese, radishes, boiled eggs and a package of ham salad artfully arranged. It's the epitome of the ugly of retro food. It's why I do this. I'm proud to unearth these artifacts.

Fillet of Sole en Papillote or for the rest of us, fish in parchment paper packets. Some would see a sack of surprise, bursting with flavor. Some will see charred paper. I see charred paper.

Steak Skillet Supper. The caption reads: Steak Skillet supper will win approval from the whole family. That would probably not include my husband, daughters, son.

I kept this caption because I could not do an explanation justice. I could speculate ensuing gas or gut rot from it though.

I've seen enough Monsters Inside Me to know that this isn't a good sign. If only I could see an animated parasite wreaking havoc on this poor cake.

 
In the hour and a half I took to write this, I could have created a feast. I need help so I need to resort to this book or I am going to be waving my arms to no avail.