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Showing posts with label Avocado. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Avocado. Show all posts

Friday, October 21, 2011

Potty Mouth



Before indoor plumbing afforded most of us proper flushing toilets, people relied on outhouses during the day in which to conduct their business, and the chamber pot at night, when it was dark out, and the threat of being attacked by wolves, bears, raccoons, stray cats, errant moose, mice, snakes, spiders, bats and highwaymen (even in the city) made the thought of roaming too far from the bedroom unappealing.

Far more preferable was to relieve yourself in the company of your siblings or spouse, hoping not to wake them, then storing the used pot back under the bed where it sat the rest of the night waiting to be emptied in the morning. Life smelled different back then, what with the raw sewage and camphorated mothballs.

The chamber pot was designed therefore in the most practical shape possible to “catch and carry.” Made from china with two handles and nicely decorated (if you were rich and had burly maids to lift them) or enameled tin with one handle (if you weren’t), antique chamber pots have become quaint collector’s items.

The trouble is, they look a lot like soup tureens. The difference between them is that usually the tureen has some kind of pedestal or legs to hold it up from the table’s surface to prevent scorching, whereas the chamber pot is less likely to tip over and spill with a wide, flat base.

Dear soup-makers of the world: do not serve your creations in the wrong one. Also, do not sprinkle paprika on avocado soup because it looks like someone in the last stages of tuberculosis coughed on it. Also, refrain from making avocado soup in the first place.

Soup, Salad, Sandwich Cookbook, Ideals Publishing Corp., 1981

Also from this book: One Is Such A Lonely Number, Frosted Sandwich Loaf, Penis Salad

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Avocado Ice Cream



Guacamole: it’s a lovely onomatopoeia — describing the thick and glossy texture produced when mashing buttery avocado, either in lumpy chunks or smooth and creamy. Mixed with a squeeze of fresh lemon or lime juice to preserve its pale green color, it can be made more or less piquant with the application of hot sauce, cilantro, garlic and tomato. It goes perfectly with a salty crisp corn chip or ten or twenty.

Guacamole is the perfect summer concoction, a blend of salty and sweet that makes for a great appetizer — hang on, did you say ice cream? Surely I heard you wrong. Maybe the signal’s corrupted or something. Let me move to the other side of the room. I’m talking about guacamole, what are you talking about? Ice cream? No: guacamole, you know, the stuff you make with avocados. Stop saying ice cream.

No, no no, this is crazy talk. There is no such thing as avocado ice cream. Truly. That would be insanity. Besides, the only acceptable flavors of green ice cream are pistachio and mint chocolate chip, everyone knows that.

What, you can prove it? No way. Look: let’s have a friendly wager. I bet you a week’s pay you cannot produce an actual printed recipe for avocado ice cream, from a real published recipe book. Yes, I said a week’s pay. Are we on? Good.

This’ll be the easiest money I ever make….

Meta Given’s Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking, J. G. Ferguson Publishing Company, 1947

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Salmon Avocado Mold


In 1969 some prescient folks at Better Homes and Gardens saw that the generation soon to be known as the Baby Boomers comprised the bulk of the demographic their cook books were aimed at. Thinking ahead, they decided to include as many recipes as possible for the toothless, the gummy, the denture-set. By blending, whizzing, creaming and smashing normally solid ingredients and then reconstituting them as semi-solids in non-threatening shapes (helped along by plenty of gelatin), they managed to put the fear of God into their customers, who all flocked to their dentists and invested in really expensive preventive orthodontia to forestall the possibility they would ever have to face such foodstuffs before death relieved them of the chance they’d be force-fed them in a nursing home.

Exhibit A: “A spectacular salad for a foursome is the Salmon Avocado Mold. Frosted with an avocado dressing, cut wedges are pretty on the plates. It’s a do-ahead beauty to make the hostess’ job easier.”

Salad Book, Better Homes and Gardens, 1969

Also from this book: Banana-Cheese Dressing, Ham Cabbage MoldWash Your Mouth Out With Soap
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