C: The Letter of the Day

My new layout is atrocious, is it not? This 1970's pea/avocado green and alternating floor tile was exactly what I was trying to find. I'm limited. I get it. All I need to know is how to post pictures and write something about them. And hit "publish" and hope it goes out. 

Continuing the Family Circle Illustrated Library of Cooking, 1972. Apparently the letter of the day is "C" and here are the sections:

COOKING FOR A CROWD: How to Plan a Party, Bountiful Buffets. That thought terrifies me more than anything. 

COOKING JUST FOR TWO: Menus and Recipes for Two People. I can get on board with that idea. Two people. Can't eff that up too much. There's only one other person to disappoint, piss off, traumatize, sicken, etc.

COOKING ON LOCATION: Meals to Prepare on a Boat, Over a Campstove. Seriously? If I am getting on a boat, I'm not going to be the one cooking. Does the woman behind all these meals ever get to have fun or is she restricted to cooking, cooking, cooking, and cooking? 

COOKING OVER THE COALS: Barbecuing, Grilling, Spitting, and Hibachi Coooking. Fire, fire, fire, fire.

COUNTDOWN ON CALORIES: Common-Sense Dieting for Men, Women, and Teenagers. Because after four chapters of greasy steaks, grilling, fat, we need to come back to reality. 

Family Circle's Illustrated Library of Cooking, 1972, Volume 6 Coo-Cou. I could have made that my title but that would have been predictable. I tossed it around. Really.

 

Two-toned seafood salad souffle in a showy mold. Showing off its ability to look as plastic and as fake as possible. Can it be cut or eaten? It looks like neither of which will happen. Ever.

 

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that has never been a compliment rained upon me. Never have I had the bouquet pinned on me. I'm not relaxed or gracious when I entertain. Hell, I don't entertain. I bore. I am the shy Type B and if the hostess thinks to have me meet an outgoing Type A counterpart, I can assure said hostess her little shindig will be an utter failure and I will make it my mission to make every party that I am invited to a living hell from which her social status will never recover. Just let me slurp my aspic in peace.

We call those "potlucks" in my end of the world. I would bring the paper products as my blog and impressive vintage cookbook collection has caused the wisest to become leery. Should it be paper plates or plastic?

I'm guessing this pâté cheese mold will not fit a crowd of 25 meat lovers. Maybe not even one person. Maybe it will retain its shape or maybe it will melt and all that is left are the pimiento stuffed olives floating on top of the milky white puddle. I can see that more than I can anybody eating it.

Again, we call this a "potluck. Though I would be impressed to see who gets assigned the pâté cheese mold. Or who offers to bring it. Free food is free food, right? And all you can stuff in your face.

Glazed Liver Pâté. It's glazed, you see you see. Looks like a loaf of dog food.

Dilled Potato Salad Platter. Some would eat this. I would not. It's just so compressed and in a half dome with eggs surrounding it. That means there's mayo. That means I would bypass it.

Salmon Mousse in Aspic. Macabre. Can't say too many people are going to want to eat something that looks like, eh how do I not offend? It looks like a stillborn animal. Yuck.

Fish Balls with Parsley Sauce. Balls.

Sweet-Sour Brown Beans. Could be the most normal looking of them all.

And what happens when 17 or 18 people show up? Or 14? Or nobody?

Meatball Outriggers (?) and Honolulu Heroes. A way to "wow" 16 friends. Well that excludes me. I don't even think I know 16 people enough to "wow" them with my sandwiches.

Egh, seems like a lot of work and words for jut two people. I will give the FC folks credit for the word "tomatoey". And my refrigerator and freezer is like my bank. Empty.

And we can just agree to disagree can't we? All of America does NOT love beef and maybe the ones that do love steak do not make a fatty or "succulent-tender" sirloin their cut of choice. I don't mind beef. But I do have my arteries to think about. And they are clenching on me as I look at that hunka hunka pride of America.

Herb Baked Scallops. Only 4 ingredients. I think I'd eat it.

Galley slaves = women on the trips.

Grilled tomatoes, burgers, steaks, sand.

I keep one of these laying around too.

Seriously. When does the one preparing these lavish outdoor meals get the chance to actually enjoy the outdoors? Isn't it about taking it easy? Grrr.

Singed eyebrows, lighter fluid tasting food, near fires. That would be how my husband practices the American Institution, if not invention. Lordly roasts turning on spit. Sounds descriptive and probably deceptive.

"What every hungry steak lover dreams of: a super-thick, rare hunk of sirloin. This one is crumb crusted." Ugh that layer of fat looks thicker than the meat itself. But it's crumb crusted. Did Family Circle have a vested interest in pushing the sirloin on the unsuspecting public? Agh I feel the plaque forming on my carotids.

I can think of other words to describe Lamb and Bacon kebab combo. Gay would not be one of them.

I'm sure grilling by candlelight seems like a good idea in a controlled, professional environment.

Parents of the year. No pail of sand nearby as the introduction to this chapter suggests. And I daresay the youngster is not being kept away from the grill.

Whirlybird Stuffed Ham and Molded Carrot Cups. G.R.A.F (Generally Recognized As Food)

Alright! Alright! Time to stop thinking of fat steak or any of the fat foods in the previous chapters. Time to get down to business. Those are some pretty personal questions in that first paragraph. Why do you give a f--k? Maybe it's the foods in these cookbooks?

Yeah...okay.

It sucks because I don't see recipes for these anywhere in the book. I don't think any dieter thinks of a tall, quivery, shimmering gelatin mold as their BFF.

Sigh..Those don't look like desserts. I wouldn't know because they aren't in the damn cookbook anywhere.

"Yes, this creamy-rich Lemon Cheesecake Tower is actually low in calories, a truly slimming 123 per serving." Did anybody ask? Does anybody care? If a tree falls down in the woods does that mean a Lemon Cheesecake Tower really has 123 calories? 125 would surely be tipping the scales.

"Deceptively diet-fare. Pastel Pink Strawberry 'Cream' and light as a cloud Daffodil Ring made of angel food cake." Believe me, nobody who is trying to lose weight or eat better wants to be DECEIVED. Those of us who are chubs are pretty damn sure what we are eating.

For those jellied weird retro coffee lovers, a Coffee Sparkle. 

 

 

 And "C" is the letter of the day. C for Coronary. C for Coffee.