Jellied Salad

The word “congealed” today has a negative connotation when it comes to foodstuffs. We use this word when describing something that has sat out on the table too long and become inedible. A mayonnaise-based salad, for example, will take on an alarming transparent glazed look after several hours. This out to indicate to any casual observer that the salad must not, under any circumstances, be eaten, for it has become toxic.

But this is not what the word “congealed” means.

Congeal dates from the late 14^th century Old French congeler, meaning to freeze or thicken — which in turn comes from the Latin congelare, meaning to freeze together. Com means together; gelare means to freeze.

An ice cream or sorbet, then, is congealed. Ideas can become congealed in your mind if they cease to be fluid.

You never want someone to remark on your intellect as “a shimmering interplay between aspic and mousse,” for example.

 Salads, Time-Life Books, 1979

Also from this book: Eat Your Vegetables, Mind Your Tongue

Mind Your Tongue

 

Can there be any better word to describe, in its very being, the English language than “tongue”?

In order to qualify for this honor, the word would have to have several overlapping meanings across many disciplines, be at least a verb and a noun, and be spelled incomprehensibly.

The answer then, is yes.

It means both the organ of speech and an entire language. As a verb, to tongue something means to lick it. To lick also means “to drive out” or defeat, which is another old meaning for “tongue.” To hold your tongue means to stop speaking, not literally to hold your tongue. To be tongue-tied is to be unable to produce speech.

Geographically, a tongue is a protrusion of a glacier into the sea. A shoe has a tongue-shaped tongue which lies under the laces, which you must pull on to fasten your shoe.

Yet the word itself is spelled t-o-n-g-u-e, which one might pronounce ton-gew, rather than tung. A Tung is a deciduous tree native to China.

The finished dish

I wonder if our modern aversion to eating tongue is due to the fact that we do not like to bite our own tongues, and that it looks rather a lot like a penis?

Salads, Time-Life Books, 1979

Also from this book: Eat Your Vegetables, Jellied Salad

Roast Dove

The holiday season often involves eating lots of rich foods, and meals centered around turkey, ham, and perhaps, if you’re really old-fashioned, a goose.

For those of you who would like a bit of respite from the fancy stuff, why not try this recipe? It’s very simple; all it requires are common kitchen ingredients which you probably have on hand, and six doves.

If you are a bit squeamish about eating a dove (which, after all, is the bird of love because doves mate for life), don’t worry: the doves will be dead before you buy them. Who knows? You could be eating Mrs. Dove while your own husband or wife eats its mate!

The Sunset Cook Book, Lane Book Company, 1960

Our Father (Christmas), Who Art In Heaven

The basic premise of Christian theology is that the life you lead on Earth will determine if you spend eternity in Heaven, or Hell. Different doctrines hold that either your ultimate destination is predetermined and there’s nothing you can do about it; or that you’re given a last chance to renounce your sins and be granted a pass to the glorious afterworld. Still others say that you’re being watched and judged every single day, and that your behaviors have a cumulative effect, like an end-of-year grade, weighted according to your overall piety. St. Peter is traditionally seen as gatekeeper, for whom you must pass muster to be let inside the exclusive club.

On the other hand, Santa does the very same thing at Christmastime, a fact millions of children or people who have once been children, can attest (there are even picture to prove it), which begs the question: is Santa St. Peter in disguise?  

“Ho ho ho,” the big man with a beard will murmur merrily as you approach, trembling amid the whiteness. “What’s your name, little [BOY or GIRL]?”

At this you will tell him your name. Probably your formal name, the one on your birth certificate, as opposed to the nickname you have been known by your whole entire life.

“And tell me,” the portly fellow will huff, “have you been naughty or nice?”

Naturally, you’ll report having been nice. Very nice, in fact. Super-nice.

The imposing gentleman will peer at you to confirm your confession’s veracity, because he has super powers and can determine such things. “Fair enough then,” he’ll snort, “you can come in. Close the door behind you, you’ll let in the draft.”

Christmas!, Wilton Enterprises, 1992

Also from this book: Santamas

Santamas

If you think that Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of baby Jesus, you’re wrong. It’s all about Santa, and how many gifts he’s going to drop down your chimney. So instead of artfully arranging a quaint and highly unrealistic nativity scene featuring a lowly stable, the Holy family, some inquisitive animals and the Three Wise Men, get up to speed with Santamas and make an edible Santa’s Workshop instead. Let’s face it: the miracle of the season is how on Earth an old fella at the North Pole can determine if you’ve been naughty or nice all year, and select a gift especially for you that is made by elves. Elves, people.

In case you become suspicious about the substance of this glorious diorama, please be assured that the figures are made entirely of piped frosting.

Christmas!, Wilton Enterprises, 1992

Also from this book: Our Father (Christmas) Who Art in Heaven

Crock of Sh*t

A crock of shit is literally another name for a chamber pot — that large jug one used during the night in one’s bedchamber when one did not have an indoor lavatory.

The “crock” part is from language as old as we can fathom form all over Europe meaning pottery — hence crockery for plates and bowls, or anything made from clay. A potter potters about making pottery; but he used to be called a crocwyrhta, or crock-wright.

To call something a “crock” means it is no good, useless — probably associated with the bedchamber use.

A crock-pot is merely a pot made of pottery in which something is cooked. Today, that usually means slow-cooked or prepared. This recipe for a Crock of Herring requires a whole day for them to slowly pickle.  

Introduction to Scandinavian Cooking, The McCall Publishing Company, 1960

Also from this book: Ubiquity, Sardine Rabbit

Gee, Thanks …

Let’s ignore, for a second, the jaw-defying “cookies” that girl is icing in the foreground, and pay attention to the phenomenal coiffure Mom is sporting in the back. Holy Smokes! It looks like Mama is wearing a drab olive polyester pantsuit with that giant lapel shirt! Is that a wig? Because I can’t fathom how long it must take to backcomb that hair to get it that high.

And how come in the Glorious Nineteenseventies people thought yellow ochre went with avocado and brown? And the kind of aggressively patterned wallpaper that ought to reserved for the bad boy room at the county jail?

OK, back to the cookies. Patty is too young and innocent to know what folks will do with her gifts. It’s just as well. We know.

Homemade Cookies Cookbook, Better Homes and Gardens, 1975

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

Also from this book: Top-Notch Turkey Loaf, Cooties Especial, Hamburger Helper?, Meaty Surprise!, Peppy-Sauced Meatloaf, Ham Strata, Tangiers Hash

Nutty as a Fruitcake

To be “nuts” is to be crazy. The head, often referred to as one’s nut, is the locus of sanity. If it if cracked — if one has become cracked — then one has turned into a “nutter.” Mental institutions are known as “nuthouses” accordingly. To be described as a “fruitcake” means to be nutty — crazy. Fruitcakes traditionally have lots of nuts in them, hence the term.

Although fruitcakes are as old as time, using them to refer to crazy people only dates back to 1952.

Budget Saving Meals Cookbook, Ideals Publishing, 1980

Also from this book: Purple Haze, Fear and Loathing in Safeways

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Pot Roast

This Christmas, why not go for something more seasonal to celebrate? It’s the only time of year you can reasonably expect to find fresh reindeer meat — but you have to use your ingenuity to procure it. You only have one shot (Christmas Eve), so it’s best to have something else on hand should your plan fail.

Cooking for Young Homemakers, Culinary Arts Institute, 1964

 Also from this book: Roast Opossum, Fried Brains, Fried and Baked, Crown Roast of Frankfurters