>
Showing posts with label Ground Beef. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ground Beef. Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2024

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


 

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

King-Sized Balls




This recipe goes to some lengths to make this dish consisting of ground meat rolled into balls sound exciting and quick to make — but what it says to your family is “I work for a living, don’t have time to cook for y’all, can’t be bothered to stop by the drive-thru, and frankly don’t give a damn.”

Only they wouldn’t say “damn,” they’d say “fuck.” The husband, he’d probably say “damn!” when served this (if he’s particularly fond of canned cheese soup) and tuck right in. But if he’s not a fan of the soup-as-sauce method, he would probably utter a loud “fuck!” and throw his newspaper down. Only he wouldn’t be reading a newspaper, he’d be clutching a beer in a can, and a bit would splash out of the pop-top onto the table. Only it wouldn’t be a table, it’d be a countertop.

The son, he’d push his chair back and say there weren’t no way he was going to eat fluffy grass, by which he means the parsley garnish. Only it wouldn’t be a garnish made from parsley; it’d be fluffy grass.

The daughter would try to mollify her father by saying “at least it’s not Cream of Mushroom or stuffing mix like last time,” only she’d insert the word “fucking” in there a few times, and then get told off for using foul language. Then she’d sulk.

The Mom would plop down in her chair and light a cigarette, lean her head back, let out a long stream of forceful smoke, and say “take it or leave it.”

The cat would hop up onto the table and sniff it, then walk away. The dad would say “scat!” and hit it with a napkin. Only it wouldn’t be a napkin; it’d be a rolled-up copy of Guns & Ammo.

“Y’all are ungrateful sonsofbitches,” the mom would complain, then play the pity card by following up with “I work my fingers to the bone to put food on this here table and make it healthy and pretty and what do I get for my trouble?” Only she’d probably just stare at them without saying anything.

Then she’d take one of the king-sized balls and cut into it, ignoring the alarmingly pink tint at its center. She’d put a forkful in her mouth and chew.

The rest of the family would look at her.

Then she’d swallow and put her fork down and say “Jesus.”

Ground Meat Cook Book, Better Homes and Gardens, 1969

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Hamburger Helper?



Among the awesome abilities humans do not possess (along with night vision, flight, camouflage skin, and underwater breathing) is the inability to produce uricase, an enzyme which breaks down uric acid. This might not bother you much until you wake in the middle of the night in agony because your big toe is on fire. It’s not actually on fire, per se; it’s the buildup of uric acid crystals in your joint — otherwise known as gout, “king of diseases and the disease of kings.” Tyrannosaurus Rex , the king of dinosaurs, couldn’t fight off gout either, but they had terrifying fearsomeness and 12-inch long replaceable teeth to make up for it.

Actually, it’s the teeth that get T. Rex and the great apes into trouble with gout in the first place; a diet rich in meat, seafood and wine is usually responsible for causing it — traditionally foods only kings (and other people at the top of the social food chain) could eat with any regularity. In antiquity, it was noted with interest that young boys, older women and eunuchs avoided it, leading to the idea that gout was also aggravated by venery.

To recap: in order to avoid excruciating pain, don’t eat meat, drink wine, or have sex.

Naturally, you would assume that infants and young children were also immune because they tend not to eat steaks, get drunk and have sex, but today that is not so. There are two additives commonly found in popular foods which are deemed not safe for consumption by youngsters (or asthmatics) because they cause gout: disodium guanylate (E627) and disodium inosinate (E631). Together with monosodium glutamate, they provide the “fifth flavor,” umami, in things like chips and instant noodles.

One of the products they are found in is generally marketed to women cooking for families which include young children: Hamburger Helper.

Hamburger Helper was introduced in 1971 as a way to produce an instant meal — all you need to do is add browned ground beef, milk and water to the contents of a flavoring packet. Making ground beef flavorsome can be pretty easy; just cook with herbs, spices, and perhaps some tomatoes — but this is not very profitable. There are 44 ingredients in a typical Hamburger Helper flavor packet, most of which are highly processed chemicals whose relationship to whole foods is as humans are, say, from the dinosaurs.

The lady demonstrating various ways to shape plain ground beef in 1969’s Ground Meat Cook Book is clearly the target customer General Mills had in mind: someone for whom meat was easier to handle if it resembled Play-Doh. Ground meat is cheaper than whole cuts, and therefore encourages larger portions. What Hamburger Helper really helps you do is consume more meat. To her, it must have seemed a godsend. Little did she know it wasn’t a gift from above, but one from below, where your extremities are tormented with acids and fire for a long time before you perish from a massive coronary — the Everyman of  diseases, and the disease of Everyman.

Ground Meat Cookbook, Better Homes and Gardens, 1969

Also from this book: Top-Notch Turkey Loaf, Cooties Especial, Ham Strata, Meaty Surprise!, Peppy-Sauced Meatloaf, Tangiers Hash, King-Sized Balls


Pin It