Reminiscing: Savory Seafood

What would I do without Sue's mother, who apparently was not a culinary master, but who saved things like it was her job to do so? Published by the same people who brought you the Party Cookbook, Savory Seafood must have been a staple on the shelf of any 1950s home cook. I had to present the cover to you this way because it just doesn't make sense viewed in two parts. You really need to see the whole thing all at once.

Like the Party Cookbook, the recipes in this book aren't too bad, but the illustrations are. My favorite part of this is the mix of fish swimming with crab, shrimp, lobster, oysters, etc. At least they all appear to be salt water-dwelling creatures. I love the swordfish attacking the defenseless leader, too.

Side note: This scene brings back memories of my college aquacise class, which I took with several friends, including Leah. Our instructor was brought in from a local nursing home, I think, and she would stand on the side of the pool in her swim suit and special water shoes, showing us how to do the moves. She played music from The Pink Panther the whole time, every time we met. She never got in the water with us. Until one seemingly normal spring day.

She got in the water, made all of us wear our flotation belts, and instructed us to begin using our legs to move across the pool backward as she faced us going forward. I was in the front row with my friends and everything was fine while we moved backward. Then she yelled at us to switch and move forward while she moved backward. We were getting quite a workout with the drag of the water moving in the opposite direction when she suddenly became a crazed water demon, surging forward and screaming "I'm gonna get you!" She, of course, had the benefit of working with the drag created by 20+ people while we were fighting it and trying like hell to get away from her. We would have succeeded if we hadn't been wearing those belts, too--and if it weren't for those meddling kids, but that's another story. Anyway, I can't remember exactly what happened or who did this, but as she closed in, someone grabbed the back of my belt (maybe Leah?) and pulled me swiftly away from her. I kept moving my legs to look like I was powering backward on my own because I didn't want to be yelled at. Mercifully, I escaped unharmed. Others were not so lucky. Every time I look at this illustration, I hear "I'm gonna get you!" coming from the swordfish.

Anyway, back to the book. Based on these photographs alone, I think they should have stuck with the drawings. Poor quality black and white images just don't make food look enticing.

See? So much better to just use drawings...

Also, my favorite part of the chef drawing is that he is holding up the pinkie of his right hand while he stirs. Is this supposed to make him seem French or something?

Let's be careful out there--watch out for swordfish...and crazy aquacise instructors.

Reminiscing: Party Cookbook

Another offering from Sue's collection, Jim Beard's Party Cookbook. Jim captures the 1950s perfectly in twelve pages--the look, the food, and the attitude.

One of the best things about this cookbook is the illustrations. I really think that Hanna-Barbera used these illustrations to draw The Jetsons ten years after the cookbook was published. That lady on the right looks a lot like Jane Jetson.

Any ideas about what is happening on the left with those two guys? The one looks like Mr. Spacely.

Most of the recipes in this book seem harmless, but I have to comment on the "Onion Rings." The book has this to say about them: "These are monotonous to make, but they're well worth the trouble. The mind of man has never devised a better hors d'oeuvre."

I was with Mr. Beard at first, when I thought they were traditional onion rings. They aren't. These are slices of onion placed between thin circles of bread slathered with mayonnaise, pressed together, with the edges rolled in mayonnaise and chopped parsley. I can imagine how pleasant that party would be--a bunch of people with raw onion breath (and possibly onion gas also). Ick.

I'm impressed by how inclusive these people are. They even invited some conjoined twins to the party. These guys know how to step up the wardrobe for a festive occasion, too, by wearing red pants and coordinating jackets.

Anyone know what a "Visiting Fireman" dinner is? What's happening with the lady on the left? Did some errant meat get stuck on her pearls? Is the other lady refusing the main course? Why is there only one glass of wine on the table?

Don't forget about children's parties. Back in the 1950s, there was no Chuck E. Cheese, so people had to have parties in their own homes. This was actually better for the parents, who were able to drink cocktails, which they cannot do at Chuck E. Cheese unless they bring their own water bottle of vodka. Anyway, while the other adults are passed out in the living room, Jane Jetson helps Elroy blow out the candles and cut birthday cake for his friends. Two of them can barely contain their excitement for the hamburger-themed cake eating that is about to commence. They've fed all of the string beans to the dog, so they're still hungry.

"...tonight we gonna party like it's 1955..."

Obsession

This week's favorite thing is the Bee Gees. I love the Bee Gees--really, I have a borderline unhealthy obsession with these guys (RIP Maurice). Mother of Ken is a huge fan of Barry Gibb and I tend to throw my fanaticism toward Robin because he is so fascinatingly strange. Anyway, there are lots of videos of the Bee Gees on YouTube and elsewhere, but I happen to love the SNL sketches of "The Barry Gibb Talk Show," so here you are:

And here are the Bee Gees in the flesh on Jimmy Fallon's show this week:

Oh, Robin. You are so strange. And Barry--I am impressed by how much you still rock the falsetto after all these years.

Missing You

Dear Sun,

We are grateful to have you back after months of darkness. Ken is enjoying the extra vitamin D, Kenna is enjoying sleeping in patches of sun, and the flower bulbs are happily popping through the soil. Even the creek seems happy that you are back.

Please come back tomorrow, too. We promise to bake you some cookies if you do.

Love,

Ken and McKenna

Obsession Update: Kramer and Boomer--Related?

For Mother of Ken:

Obsession

This week's Favorite Thing is dogs.

Since I can't put all of the dogs in the world on my blog, I've got some photos of my dogs (or at least the dogs in my family).

Our official first family dog was Corkey, a Boston Terrier. Corkey lead a complicated life before he came to our house, but he was a really good boy. Here is a photo of me with Corkey that I took for a class project in the fifth grade. Feel free to make fun of my clothing and accessories, including my gigantic pink plastic glasses and my hot pink socks.

Sadly, Corkey could not be with us forever, and we eventually got our first Boxer, Kramer. Look at that face. She had the softest fur on her head and she was a really good natured dog. Everyone loved Kramer. And, yes, that is red shag carpet.

Kramer was never far from me--she slept in my bed most nights, she stayed with me for several sleepless nights after I had complications from my wisdom teeth being removed, and she even traveled with Mother and Father of Ken to Dallas to help me move into my first place.

Me with Kramer and Frazier, our second Boston Terrier. Again, feel free to make fun of me--it was the 90s and I had some terrible jeans.

My favorite photo of Father of Ken and Frazier--this pretty much sums up their entire relationship, which was that Father of Ken had little use for the dog when he ate the front door, but Frazier always loved Father of Ken and only wanted to get on his good side. That never happened.

Who could resist this face?

After Kramer and Frazier came Piper, our first brindle Boxer. Father of Ken rescued Piper from being tied up to a tree out in the middle of nowhere. She is insanely good at carrying toys around the house and never tearing them up.

Boomer, who may or may not be descended from Kramer, but who is the biggest, most loveable goofball ever and he literally throws himself into everything that he does: eating, sleeping, playing, etc. Boomer doesn't do much of anything halfheartedly except stay awake.

The latest addition: MacGyver, who is probably four times larger than this now and who is probably 100 times more accomplished than any of the other dogs because Brother of Ken has been training him:

And, finally, McKenna. She might be the smallest one, but she's feisty and strong. She took over from Kramer when I moved out on my own and she has been taking good care of me ever since.

Why own a dog? There's a danger you know,

You can't own just one, for the craving will grow.

--Unknown