Just Desserts

 

There are many ways to administer medicine to a cat. Sadly, cats have kept this information to themselves. Seeking only to provide care to their beloved pets, humans have suffered long-lasting trauma and the occasional nasty scratch by attempting to force a pill down the reluctant feline’s gullet. By the time success is achieved, the cat is beyond the help that modern medicine can provide, and will die laughing at their bereft owner’s ineptitude.

 

Likewise, it is fiendishly tricky to get a human child to swallow anything they don’t want to. What human children don’t want to eat is exhaustive and fickle, and mostly includes what’s good for them: namely nutritious food. Dinner, for example. Parents the world over, have since the beginning of time approached this dilemma by employing the subterfuge of disguise.

 

What does all of this have to do with the Hamburger Pie, you may ask….

 

Hamburger Pie

The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971

 

Salad Daze

 

Child’s Play

Shakespeare’s contributions to the English language are legion; one of these is Cleopatra’s comment upon her romance with Julius Caesar, which she describes as “My salad days, / when I was green in judgment, cold in blood….” Note the repetition of the idea of “green,” meaning raw and innocent, as are nature’s new shoots. She regrets her affair as the naivite of youth, before she knew better. The term “salad days” has come to refer to the carefree time when one could just have an affair with the Emperor, or simply be young and stupid. 

 

This Creamy Fruit Salad is merely stupid. Instructions include tinting the whipped cream pink with food coloring. Why? I can hear the grapes whining in that particularly weary teenagers use when they are embarrassed by their parents, as they attempt an escape over the side of the bowl. They’d like the strawberries to join their rebellion, but the strawberries, still under Mom’s sway, remain posed with a sickly sweet smile, only faintly aware of their complicity in this tragic enactment of the end of culture as we know it. 

 

 

Creamy Fruit Salad, The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971

The Miracle of Birth

 

Many is the poor husband who, while dutifully supporting his wife’s labor, commits the terrible mistake of taking a quick peek. Perhaps his delirious partner, in her extreme condition, demands to know how much of the baby is out. Perhaps the birth attendant, both used to and enthralled by the relentless exposure to the business end of life invites him to take a look he’ll never forget. Nowadays, the paternal responsibility of cutting the cord pressures the new father into witnessing the carnage of his beloved’s forest glade a few months before its seductive form has been regained. In any case, such scenes can elicit an impolite response: loss of consciousness, immediate regurgitation, an avowal to his god of lifelong celibacy, or the utterance of deeply regrettable profanity. Let’s face it: the sight of a mammal emerging from another mammal’s nether regions is not for the faint of heart. 

 

And it’s not just something one may stumble across in the odd intimacy of one’s birthing suite; footage of animals giving birth, both wild and domestic, is everywhere on the internet for all to see: one minute you’re scrolling past memes, and the next a sheep / goat / horse / cow / elephant / wildebeest  is being pushed wetly, hoof-first, from its mother shamelessly on camera for all the world to see. It’s not the facts of life; it’s a fact of life. Like the Scouts say, be prepared. 

 

And it’s not just an assault from the animal kingdom one has to be prepared to view: the vegetable world has joined the fray too. Witness here the trials of the lowly, yet noble onion, as she delivers a slick new version of herself onto the dinner table. Note the gentle, yet firm encouragement provided by the chef/doula’s gloved hands, while her sister onion patiently awaits her turn on the plate. 

 

Do not turn away from the miracle of life, dear reader: do not avert your gaze, for it is a tale as old as time. One onion begets another, and so it goes on, layer after glistening layer. 

 

Vegetables Roasted in Coals

The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library 1971 

Raggedy Ann Revisited

“Do you remember Denise’s Mom?”

            “Who can forget?”

            “What about that time she invited us all over for a tea party and served us margaritas?”

            “How old were we — six?”

            “That lady was broken. I mean, she tried, but come on — you can’t give kids hard liquor!”

            “So check what I found the other day at a yard sale. A set of Betty Crocker recipe cards from 1971.”

            “My Mom used to have one of those too!”

            “So I’m going through the cards for fun, because these recipes are whack — and look what I found.”

            “Rag Doll Tea Party. Sweet Jesus — that’s what she served us!”

            “I know, right? Because what little kid expects to be served a salad instead of cookies and lemonade?”

            “Ooh — lettuce! Celery! Raisins!”

            “What’s the hair made out of?”

            “Cheese. Is that a boiled egg for the head?”

            “No — it’s a marshmallow. I remember it being egg, though. Oh my God.”

            “Wow.”

            “No — I mean Oh my God, I just figured it out.”

            “What?”

             “The margaritas. She read it wrong. They were supposed to be meringues. They’re called ‘Marguerites.’”

            “How can you get that wrong?”

            “Girlfriend, everything about this is wrong. You need a cocktail to get through it. She was doing us a favor.”

Children’s Parties Card #15 Rag Doll Tea Party, Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971

See Also: An International Incident, Horrorscope, A SNAFU In The Jungle

A SNAFU in the Jungle

Nac uoy ared shit? Fo erousc ton.

That’s because in English, we have spelling. Spelling, a thing that schools seem to think is the key to your future success as a human being, is all about putting the letters in the right order. Only sadists and serial killers mix the letters up to hide the message they’re sending — probably just to give themselves more time to commit whatever heinous act they get off on.

On a related note, some mothers take birthday parties a little too seriously. They forget that the only reason little Susie wants a party is so that she can play the Queen Bee and decide which of her classmates she’s going to invite or leave out in the cold as a crystal-clear message they’ve been shunned. The only reason the other kids go is to get high on sugar and run around for two hours and see what presents the other kids brought, hoping that theirs is the best.

The actual details don’t matter, so long as there is cake.

The one thing you want to avoid in planning a child’s birthday party is having it resemble school. This party game devised by the sinister and tortured souls at Betty Crocker hits all the marks:

            involves spelling difficult words 3

            requires writing 3

            is timed 3

            is judged 3

            only exists to kill time 3

            provides ample opportunity for humiliation 3

And to put the icing on the cake, as it were, let’s look closely at what they consider a “jungle” animal:

lion, elephant, monkey, peacock, flamingo, rhinoceros, tiger, bear, hippopotamus, seal, llama, giraffe, kangaroo, penguin.

Penguin, FFS.

This situation is NOT normal — it is all f*cked up.

Children’s Parties Card #3 African Safari, Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971

See Also: Raggedy Ann Revisited, An International Incident, Horrorscope

Who’s Afraid of Betty Crocker?

George and Martha are newlyweds negotiating that difficult transition from singlehood to coupledom and things have come to a head. Martha is saddened both by her inability to conceive and frustrated by her impotence in the kitchen. How to cook for two? George drinks too much and expects his young bride to start entertaining guests. The pressure’s too much!

In her desperation, Martha purchases Betty Crocker’s Dinner For Two Cookbook. For a little while, at least, this keeps the demons at bay; every night she and George sit down to dinners like this:

Hearty Ham Steak

Grilled Sweet Potatoes

Peas Almandine in Foil

Corn Muffins from the Grill

Banana Boats

and in time, they settle into a life of stupefying dullness. Every now and then, they even make torrid love after a night out at the cinema — (she pretends George is as handsome as Richard Burton, and he wishes Martha had Liz Taylor’s chutzpah).

Then, one night, during a party, Martha is asked which American woman she most admires, and having no other role models, she answers Betty Crocker. At this, George laughs in her face, saying “You know Betty Crocker doesn’t really exist, right?” Martha didn’t.

All her dreams shattered, she picks up the book to gaze upon Betty’s beatific face on the back. “Haven’t you ever wondered why she’s always in a painting, and not a photograph?” George taunts. “But…but she’s on television!” Martha protests.

“What sort of person actually mistakes fictional characters for real people?” George spits, shaking his head.

“I am George, I am” she replies, throwing the book at him. He catches it, rips off part of the back cover and stuffs it in his mouth. "Yum," he says, "Yum yum yum." 

Selections From Betty Crocker's Dinner For Two Cookbook, Bantam Books, 1982


“The twosome does have special problems, it’s true. But chin up — this book will show you how to tackle them.”