Lorien Gruchalla 1 March 2010 Stories and Appreciations 812 views 2 Comments Print This Post  Email This Post

There’s just something about vintage cookbooks. It’s not the recipes, although they certainly can be gems. It’s the history. It’s the handwritten notations in the margin, and it’s the coffee stains and the dog-eared pages and the hyper-saturated photographs.

Just imagine a world wherein your day starts off with a bowl of cereal. But not just any bowl of cereal — this one is a Winken Blinken and Nod bowl of cereal, with “three maraschino cherries sitting on half a banana, an apple slice for a sail, atop Trix” (“Betty Crocker’s Cookbook for Boys and Girls,” 1957). Lunch is a thoughtfully-packed combination of soup and a sandwich, in Thermos and waxed paper respectively, packed to go with a healthy amount of fruits, cookies, and other nibbles. Supper was a family affair — a sit-down meal with appetizers, soup, salad, vegetables boiled to oblivion, meats slathered in gravies and sauces, and then a hearty dessert. And then there were the bedtime snacks. All home-cooked, with love, by your very own Donna Reed.

Each cookbook, no matter the era, tells a story of a history that never was. The idea of a nuclear family with houseguests and theme parties and holiday celebrations is inescapable, and frankly, quite refreshing, albeit a little creepy. There’s a certain innocence that comes with cherry-frosted cakes adorned with paper dolls and gumdrops (the “Cake of the Dancing Dolls” from”Better Homes and Gardens Birthdays and Family Celebrations,” 1963).

The illustrations have a pure, eerie beauty as well. Where else can you find impish elves frolicking with snowflake sugar cookies, bananas riding unicycles, and chickens sharing a milkshake? Everyone is smiling, even the inanimate objects. When books have color plates, the colors a incredibly saturated while also alluringly high-pastel, and sometimes you can find amazing delights –– a 1960s Amy Vanderbilt cookbook, found at a Goodwill for 99 cents, is full of line drawings by one Andrew Warhol.

There is real history in these old books, too. “The Silent Hostess Treasure Book” (1932) was put out by GE to help housewives understand how to use their newfangled electric refrigerators and offers great insights into not only the dining habits of the times, but also how people shopped and entertained. Oh, and there are recipes, too – Jellied Mushroom Soup, Molded Chicken Salad, and Tomato Aspic showed the newfound ease in using gelatin while Frozen Pineapple Cheese and Burnt Almond Ice Cream take advantage of an in-home freezer compartment.

A party-themed book, “The Good Housekeeping Appetizer Book” (1958), sets the scene for a social, festive atmosphere – gatherings, while less formal than in earlier decades, are still events, and themes remain the order of the day. Peanut Butter Toasties, Spicy Dunk Sauce, Nibbler Lorraine are all recipes indicative of the times — rock and roll was new, the beatniks were poeting all over the place, and suburban households were loosening up and experimenting with new ideas and flavors. A handwritten scribble in the margin notes that “Henry likes this one” and suggests some personal modifications.

Another thrift store find, “Add Spice to Your Life” (1965) — part of the Amy Vanderbilt Success Program for Women — contains cut-out magazine clippings about how to use your new trash compactor, an ad for Sunshine Fabrics in Nantucket, and some slightly more formal recipes – Salmon Steaks in Herb Sauce, South African Chicken Pie, and Jamaican Pepperpot Soup are examples of an expanding world view, and the more refined tastes that accompany it.

If you are looking for a social history, some nostalgia for a time that never was, or just a few aspic-laden meal ideas to help curb your appetite, you can find it all — and more — sandwiched between the covers of a few old cookbooks.

- Lorien Gruchalla