The Funny, Crotchtastic World of Retro Knitting

Trying to get a leg up in the world of high fashion knittery? Well, the models in this 1966 Spinnerin "Incredible Fashions" catalog sure are... and in virtually every picture!...

The cover sets the tone. This young lady demonstrates that while her knit dress may be terribly cute, a fashionable lady may need to... um... air out the general thigh-ish, crotch-esque region periodically on a hot day, lest she mildew... And there's no shame in doing that.

Like our friend "Carefully Casual" here. She's practicing her lunges for ski season, perhaps...

No matter where you are, a few lunges will help keep those legs slim, your balance strong, and your butt firm!

Or maybe you're just hanging out with friends... What stylish young lady doesn't feel more comfortable letting it all hang out?
It's the perfect way to pick up guys! None of that tiring second-guessing required!

See? These girls have it!...
Hands on hips, stick out chest, display crotch... you got it, girls! Perfect!

Even Barbra Streisand here knew the power of striking a leaning bowlegged pose...
It's what ultimately got her the lead role in "Funny Girl." Yeah, she can sing, but boy does that Barbra know how to display her nether-regions!

And wouldn't Clint Eastwood have wrapped up his "Good, Bad and the Ugly" quicker if the bad and the ugly had only seen him do this little pose?
They'd have been so distracted, he would have won the gunfight with ease!

"Wonderfully Uninhibited," this style is called. And yes, yes, you might say it is. Muy crotchtastico!

And our young and versatile friend here demonstrates that she, too, isn't so young she hasn't learned the right moves...
You can see, the man in back is admiring how effectively she's learned the Spinnerin Straddle, in spite of her young years.

Well, that about stretches this spread to the limit for today. Join me again Wednesday when the Treasure Box opens on some great goodies.

Treasure Box Wednesday: Tiny Treasure

This last week was a bit of a slow one for me in terms of Treasure Hunting. The fact fine weather has led most folks outside to merry gardening, sunning and not-donating... well, new goodies on display were somewhat slim. But another part of it for me was need. In the midst of doing a clean-out myself, there really wasn't much that struck me as needing to come home to my house. I had particular things in mind I was hoping for which were just not meant to be this last week.

But I'm glad to share with you all the tiny treasures that did come my way. One of my favorites was this gorgeously blue hobnail salt dish...
It's only about an inch, inch-and-a-half square. Years ago, this was how guests to a dinner received their salt-- individual little dishes. For me, it's perfect to sit on a window sill and reflect the light. And what color!

At Junk for Joy in Jeannette, I got this nice Smith Glass lustered heart-shaped trinket box...
I have a lot of Smith Glass-- I'm drawn automatically to it because not only does it come in beautiful colors, but it's one of the few surviving glass companies from Westmoreland County's glass heyday. The style of their pieces are much the way they were back in Victorian times. And for me, you just can't beat that!

Lastly, at the Salvation Army Thrift Store, I was drawn to some very cost-effective stacks of vintage knitting magazines...
Technically, these are for you folks, for future posts. At $1.99 a bag, retro humor, questionable fashion sense and crazy modeling scenarios are pretty well bound to be between the covers of at least one or two pieces. And it'll be fun ferreting these out! I'll donate back the ones surplus to requirements.

Oh!-- and one piece of business before I go today! In case you didn't get to see yesterday's spur-of-the-moment post, The Thrift Shop Romantic is now on Twitter. You can join me here-- http://www.twitter.com/ThriftRomantic -- for discussions on thrift news, decorating, humor, and really just general chatty topics. Don't worry, I won't spam you or, worse, spend my Tweets telling you about how I need to clip my toenails or what I'm having for lunch (you'd be surprised how common that sort of non-info seems to be in the Twitterverse) :)

I hope to see you there! I'll follow back anyone who isn't a spammer, trying to show me pictures of themselves in their birthday suit, or hoping to enlighten me with some motivational course. :) (Again, more common than you'd think.)

Cheers, gang!

Humorous Hand-Knit Hunks of 1940s Red Heart Wools

While many of us may have our minds drawn toward Easter bonnets and frilly dresses, today we're going to take a look at knit menswear from the 1940s. Because:

1. These fellows would look pretty silly in frilly dresses and flowered hats and
2. The sweater marketing is funny enough that I simply couldn't wait until Fall to share.

The Chadwick's Red Heart Wools sweater instruction booklet assures us that:

"These are the sweaters Mostly Likely to Appeal to Men of Success. Here are the sweaters for every taste and temperament--"

If your man's temperament includes the perpetual accessorizing with pipes, booze and books.

Let's start with what our booklet dubs the Young Modern. Yes, this has to have been what David Bowie was thinking of when he wrote his song Young Americans. Except the lyrics need just a little tweaking...

"With his Red Heart worsted knit
He lays it down
He frowns
Gee my life's a funny thing
Like wool, life's too spun?"

What girl doesn't love the deeply philosophical type?

In Streamline Design, this young man practices romancing the ladies, Maurice Chevalier-style, on his T-Square ruler-- the closest he's likely gotten to dipping a dame.

"Oooh, la-la, mon cheri, you are so slim, so straight, so fully-flat... I love you like I have never loved anozzer... It is the Red Heart Worsted I wear which beats for you..."

Er, let's leave give those two a little privacy and move on to Executive Material. After 25 years loyal service, this fine fellow was working on a persona that would earn him that coveted in-office nickname. He was aiming for "Smiling Bob"...
Little did he know, the unnerving, forced quality of even his most pleasant expression had inspired everyone in the office-- from the copy boy to his secretary, Miss Tibbs-- to call him, "Creepy McCardigan."

Fortunately, he had not heard this whispered gigglingly over the mimeograph machine.

Maybe he would have enjoyed more personal rapport if his wife had knitted him the Good Mixer. Yes, the Good Mixer is the man who knows wearing striped pants and a checked sweater can only be truly set for Sexy when it's topped off with a big ol' bowtie...
The kittens will just be dying to touch it, to straighten it, to let him buy them a Rob Roy, to light their smokes. He's got the swinging society eating out of the palm of his hand-- the hand he casually tucks into his pleated trousers which is now losing feeling at the elbow because he's struck this pose for the better part of an hour hoping one of the girls would notice his panache.

Now, the Stag at Ease (and no, I didn't make that name up just to be funny) knows that nothing is more manly, more devil-may-care, more virile, than a dotted Swiss fluffy sweater.

Yes, friends, nothing more clearly says, "I'm single. I'm available. I'm the son of a mother who still makes all my clothes" than the Stag at Ease.

Why, this young buck defied his mommy this very morning-- manly-style-- by wearing the dotted sweater, yes, but with completely different trousers than the ones she laid out for him! Mother would be horrified. But the Stag, he doesn't care. It's a statement. Its his way or no way. And he's a real American rebel.

Here we have another free-thinker through wool fiber. Meet the Rugged Individualist. He stands out from the crowd because of his... er...
He's different from all the other guys wearing suits and vests and ties and carrying pipes because of... um... well...

He has a special creative flair as demonstrated through...

Er. Okay. So, yes, he looks just like every other 40s old dude with a pipe. But sometimes knowing when you need to blend in with everybody else shows your deep inner strength.

Yeah, that's it. He's just keeping all that ruggedness and individuality under wraps for now. Otherwise, well, who knows what would happen?

The Crew Captain, on the other hand, is dressed appropriately for his active lifestyle.Yes, time on the water has shown his ability to adapt to any situation. That's why his striped wool sweater has short sleeves instead of long. And he wears thick wool slacks and a watch that is not, in fact, waterproof.

He knows that a single capsize will leave his sweater sagging to his knees, his tweed pants soaked and itchy against his legs, and his wristwatch entirely ruined. Which gives him that added incentive not to fall in.

It's Iron Will and a Fight Against the Odds at its most spectacular!

Now we go from the local lakes and rivers to the icy shores of ancient Scandinavia. Because here we have The Viking...
Contrary to what historical documents would have us believe, Vikings apparently were very big on skiing in turtleneck pullovers. And we're in luck! At this very moment, Olaf the Mightily Mittened is preparing to go on an expedition to find new lands, plunder, pillage and... well... enjoy some s'mores and hot cocoa at the post-pillage party. (Don't forget the whipped cream. Vikings love extra whipped cream.)

Now I know what you're thinking. But there is an alternate version of the woolly cap where you can knit up some horns. Olaf just didn't go for those because they affect wind resistance.

And that, dear readers, about unravels the last of our look into the hand-knit hunks of Red Heart Wools.

I hope you'll join me on Wednesday, when we peer into the thrifted Treasure Box for this last week.

I'm going to hop off for some Eastery edibles now. I believe there are some candy eggs with my name on them.

Have a lovely day!

Whatever Happened to Baby Greens? or Strange Salads from 1940

"Salads have become increasingly popular in recent years, and with heightened popularity has come a greatly widened consideration of what makes a salad."

You can say THAT again, Sister! The salads we're going to be seeing today ain't your mamma's cole slaw, no-how.

These dishes are the Elton Johns of salads... The Liberace of Salads... The Cher of Salads. Bizarre! Outrageous! Time-consuming! And often shaped like barnyard animals! These are...

...500 Delicious Salads. Brought to us, it appears, by the Culinary Arts Institute's Marlene Dietrich look-alike...


Because nothing says "Home Cooking" like the presence of a severe, booze-swilling Austrian actress.

And setting the stage for Overly-Detailed Salad Extravagance is this first item in the book, "Spring Flowerpot Salads"...

You get the sense right away, that you're stepping into an alternate universe when decorative salads like these are set up as the standard for everyday eating. And then you read the caption:

These flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la, are the loveliest luncheon salads.

"Tra la"?

See it's the "tra la" that frightens. The "tra la" that doesn't so much convey lighthearted joy over salad-making as it does that the little wife has spent too much time inside the house forcing unnatural cheer during the Depression, and now some strange breezes are starting to blow through the windmills of her mind.

And as she becomes increasingly paranoid, why, even the SALADS HAVE EYES...


This salad reminds me of that Salvador Dali dream sequence in Hitchcock's Spellbound. The caption reads:

The brilliant color of the cranberry ring filled with shrimp and garnished with pineapple slices and cream cheese makes a real picture.

A picture? You mean one of those portraits where the subject's eyes look back and follow you all over the room? Do you not SEE the eyes, O Culinary Arts Institute People? Are you turning a blind eye to the EYES?

This is creeping me out. Let's move on to something a little more soothing. Like to a miniaturized version of the set from "Lost."

Once the passengers on flight 815 crash landed, they stayed for a healthy lunch of cream cheese, mayonnaise, unflavored gelatin and egg yolks.

The caption tells us:

This molded chicory crown will add new laurels to your reputation as a hostess.

Possibly so-- folks really are hooked on "Lost," aren't they? And next week you can serve a "Desparate Housewives" themed hotdog ring.

Speaking of desparate housewives, how about this salad?..



The caption reads:

Mold jellied salads in perky shapes for individual service instead of using large molds. When arranged on a bed of chicory with mayonnaise piled in the center, they'll keep the family coming back for more.

Oh, they're perky all right! If you put some Mardi Gras beads on the plate, it could be New Orleans during the parade.

Am I the only one who thinks Sigmund Freud would have had a field day with this dish?

But now we move onto the holidays. And what says Easter better than...


"Bunny Salads"?

And no, they are NOT mice. Or hamsters, or guinea pigs... They're bunnies. You can tell by the carrot on the plate next to them.

What-- guinea pigs and hamsters like carrots, too?

Well, nevermind. This is art.

And just what is this art that "will delight every youngster at the Easter party"?

Lime gelatin, cottage cheese, pear halves, pimiento cheese and paprika. Yes, indeed, what kid wants a cheeseburger and fries when he could have pimientos, curdled milk products and lime Jell-o?

I notice-- and there's no picture of it, I'm sorry-- the book also suggests a "Duck Salad" where ducks heads are made from peach halves, cottage cheese and mayo. Not a duck to be found in it! So our friend Daffy can breathe a little easier.

And lastly, I give you...

Turkey Salad! The first official turkey salad I've seen that's 100% turkey free!

It's made with pears, pecans, watercress, apple, pineapple, candied cherries, cream cheese French dressing and, of course, pimiento. And the caption confides:

Turkey gobbler, sea lion or pussy cat will be the result of your skill and imagination

.
And psychiatric evaluation will be the result of your salad ideas, dear Culinary Arts Insititute People. I mean, first of all, this doesn't really even LOOK very much like a turkey, does it? And then when you start trying to trot out things like kittens and SEA LIONS...

They're going to be packing your bags for the Institute for the Very, Very Nervous in two shakes of that pussycat's tail.

Well, that ends our journey into the wide world of 1940s salads.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also enjoy the past posts regarding vintage cookbooks:

• Artichoked Up over Befuddling Vintage Vittles-- Artichokes as candleholders? It can't be! Click here.

• Dubious Dinners and Riotous Retro Recipes-- Watch sausages do synchronized swimming! Click here.

• Horrors of Home Cooking: Recipes of Yesteryear- What can you do with Worchestershire sauce? Entirely too much for good sense, apparently. Click here.
  

And have a wonderful, pimiento-free week, my friends!

Battier Homes and Gardens, 70s Style

Retina-burning color schemes, shag carpeting you could lose a small child in, and wall art with demonic influence... Such was the decor of the 70s. Here at The Thrift Shop Romantic, I always say you can learn a lot from the past. And in this case, it's sort of like learning from the lessons of World War II-- we need to understand what happened, so it never, ever happens again.

To be honest, the books that I'm about to show you did have some fairly liveable rooms in them. Rooms with, perhaps, trendy colors of the time, or with a distinctive 70s feel to them, but they were still rooms that were comfortable. Practical. The Everyhouse.

Then there are the ones I'll highlight today.


Open up the Better Homes and Gardens Decorating Book, and one of the first lessons you get is on color...


This is what chicken pox would look like if it were interpreted as a living room. The book tells us:

"Warm colors, the tangy tones of sun and earth, bring vitality and light to shadowy rooms. Red, yellow and orange, set against subtle wood and grass cloth sufraces, make this room bright, alive and exciting."

I'm not exactly sure where the grass cloth surfaces are here, but maybe it's just the vibrating glare that's caused me to miss them. All I see is a color scheme which makes a McDonald's play area look "restrained" and "understated." Note the lonely animal print pillow on the couch, echoing the circles in the wall art. It's like a poor leopard kitten got lost in the middle of the Mojave desert at sunset. And it's frightened.

Next we have our first example of questionable artwork...


The book reads as follows:

"Mushroom stools alternate lively hues in this scheme. When you choose cool colors like this, it's a good idea to warm them a bit with a touch of color from the sunny side of the spectrum."

Which is apparently where the malevolent, man-eating lion yarn-art in argyle comes in. Somehow the sly, hungry look on its face doesn't convey "sun" and warm good cheer to me.

Note how the narrowness of the ledge makes it impossible for it to be used for actual.. oh... sitting. Or leaning... And the stools are so high up under it, you probably couldn't get your legs under the ledge, anyway. Impractical AND mystifying.... just what the modern 70s woman looks for in decor!

Well, let's move onto the kiddies' room.


Here the caption reads:

"For the nursery set, but especially for the mother, this room is delightfully fresh."

Fresh, and already inhabited by trolls, it seems. Look- there's one now, coming to steal the baby away to their daisy-covered mound!...


Look at the expression on that doll's face. Any child growing up in this room is going to need serious therapy. And possibly allergy shots. I wonder what the color of that fabric is, "Pollen 109"? And dig that kelly green paint on the antique rocker. Yes, indeed, the Victorians were really big on woodwork the color of a billiard table, let me tell ya.

Well, maybe you're looking for new ideas for a zingy livingroom scheme. How about bringing your guests here?...


This room has it all. Orange, hot pink, lime green, florals and stripes... Won't your best chums Alice and Peggy just think this is to DIE FOR? Especially that wall art! Let's get a closer look at that, shall we?


Nothing says cutting-edge decor and good taste like a cartoon marker drawing of a sad, sad child. It's just one of those pieces that you never get tired of looking at.

And then there's this example of a den.

The caption urges us to look at the "striking window treatment," but me, I can't take my eyes off that carpet of dried tobbaccy. You can't even see where the chair meets the floor, the weeds are so high. Wait a moment, I'll get my push mower and be right back.

Ah, but even more treasures await in Creative Decorating on a Budget:


This book is after my own heart-- demonstrating creative ways to make your home look expensive without spending a lot of money. And how do they suggest we do that? Well, one way is here...


In the section "Furniture Flair at a Fraction of the Cost," they tell us the secret to the, er, successful room above:

"For table-top, cut a 60-inch circle out of a table tennis top: use leftover wood for shelf of serving buffet. Set table top on a 2-foot chimney flue liner and support with iron brackets. Cover laminated plastic."

Okay, so let me get this straight. You can't afford a table. So you buy a TABLE-TENNIS TABLE and cut a huge circle out of it. And also buy a chimney flue liner. And brackets. So, er, HOW is this cheaper?

Presumably if you already have a table tennis table, little Timmy and Susie are going to be pretty disappointed when they decide to renact Chris Everett or John McInroe's last match, and they're missing a giant sphere out of the center. And I'd be taking bets on who the first guest would be to fall off those wicker tuffets. I'm putting my money on Great-Aunt Celia after her third Pink Squirrel.

Lastly, we have a hand-made headboard, designed to bring us many nights of restful slumber...


Okay, I'm not resting. Is it just me or does this headboard look... violent? Like eventually there will be heads on those pikes?

Well, with visions of the Elizabethan justice system, that pretty much wraps up this Sunday's post.

• If you haven't already, check out last Treasure Box Wednesday, and some goodies from Ireland...
• And if ya have an extra moment, you might also get a laugh from the humor post on my other blog, Of Cabbages and Kings, where I relay the tale of a trip to Canada, and how I ended up surrounded by Mounties and with only one shoe. Click here for that.
  

Happy Spring to you, my friends! See you again soon.

Aprons and Hankies: Time, Ties and Trends

Aprons and hankies. What is it about these vintage textiles that makes our hearts go pitty-pat like they do?

Is it the memories of our mothers, our grandmothers? I don't know. Grandma was a fan of the housecoat, and my dear mom was more inclined to find flour on her jeans than she was on any apron. And hankies, well, Mom received one each year as a gift from a beloved family friend. These remained squirreled away in a drawer for safe-keeping for a day that would never come. They were too precious to use, she said. Too important to tuck into a sleeve, to dare touch a nose in need. They existed entombed wood and in mothballs, waiting for some curious archaeologist to break them free some day. They belonged in a museum, not in daily life.

Well, maybe it's the texture. The soft, gentle feel of a handkerchief against the cheek. The starched, crispness of a crepey apron.


Perhaps it the color. Vibrant shades that call to mind the joy of culinary exploration. Of the smart reuse in a casserole. Of the order and art of a Jell-O mold.

Or maybe it's the patterns. A garden of flowers abound, and a year of holidays is celebrated, all in this fabric of the past.


But most likely, it's all of these, and more. As the years have passed, aprons and hankies have become symbols-- not of our oppression as wives, mothers, and career women and home-makers-- but of a gentler time. Of some idealized place in our minds and hearts where there's always something baking in the kitchen, and where good manners still exist, inviting you in to have a seat and a cup of tea. In a world that may feel cold, harsh and entirely too busy, aprons and hankies are tangible representations of the little niceties that bring comfort and stability, femininity and love.

It's probably a place that never really quite existed. The standards are just too high.



I still see Mom with the flour on her jeans, a box of Puffs in the kitchen. But as I make her Crock-pot potroast this morning, to simmer all day, the scent wafting through the house the way I did the home in which I grew up three decades ago, the aprons and hankies still somehow say what needs to be said. Here's me, cooking in my pajamas, of all things. Not bothering to style my hair first. To put on heels. To tie that apron to my waist. But the hankies adorn a table top. An apron might serve as a valance.

They make me happy to see because they say the niceties are still here. With us. Ready to make home a place worth coming back to. They're just a little bit different now.

Well, that's all for today. If you missed my Wednesday feature "Good Books and New Blogs" you might want to click here to check that out. That has a fun little tag, as well as an announcement about new bloggy goodness. And maybe I'll see you THIS Wednesday as we have another "Treasure Box" feature which showcases some finds uncovered in the South Hills. (Yes, I actually wasn't snowed on and made it out to the thrifts this week!) Take care, my nice invisible friends. Thanks for being there.

Artichoked Up Over Befuddling Vintage Vittles

Ah, Amy Vanderbilt: the Martha Stewart of yesteryear. But even Martha has her "off" days, right? (Cooking and crafting ones, I mean. Not ones that involve electronic ankle bracelets; this blog can only cover so much.)

What I'm trying to say is: not all creative ideas withstand the test of time... or, say, make it comfortably through the digestive process. And those are the recipes I hope you'll get some grins from today.

The first comes from the 1966 Amy Vanderbilt Success Program for Women cookbook, "Serving Food Attractively."


The book tells us, "Artichokes, halved, filled with jellied madrilene and topped with a slim slice of lemon are beautiful to look at and wonderful to eat." Merriam-Webster defines madrilene as "a consumme flavored with tomato." So basically, we're talking cold brothy-tomatoey jelly veg-nests here.

To look at this dish and its display-- complete with spoon-- reminds me a bit of the dinner scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Only they used monkey heads instead of artichokes.

But what is it we have over here? The book tells us an important part of good eating is in the presentation. So what exactly adorns our table?


Why, artichoke candlestick holders, of course! Made from fresh artichokes. And over here on the wall-- what says Old World Charm more than a wrought-iron wall plaque adorned with... yes, that's right... MORE real artichokes?


Ah, dig deep into your refrigerators, my friends-- it could be a whole new world of decorating inspiration. Store salt in your squash, pepper in your pears, and hang shallots from your chandelier to give it that special je ne sais quois (translation, "Why the heck is THAT up there?).

Do you test spaghetti by tossing a strand against the wall? Leave it. Enough pots of pasta and soon, you'll have a unique, handcrafted sculpted art installation, envied by all your closest friends who also tap into the Food Pyramid for decor options.

And when you tire of it? The candlesticks and wall art of today might just be the main course of tomorrow. There's no END to the possibilities.

Or, you could just, you know, shell out five bucks for some thrifted candlesticks and some paintings. Either way, really.

Well, how about this?

Here we are in the Tower of London. Ah!-- aren't the Crown Jewels stunning? And--

Oops, my bad. That's lamb. But, wait, what's that bubbling up from inside that little roast volcano?


A little hard to tell from here. Let's read the caption, shall we?

"Try your favorite recipe for crown roast of lamb. Top it with a combination of sauerkraut, rice and honey..."

Sauerkraut, rice and honey? So... okay, cabbage and then...

"Brussels sprouts make a flowery center for a frill of golden yams, and the spectacular spumoni make this an exciting holiday dinner."

I'll say it'll be exciting! A holiday dinner of twenty people devouring heaping plates of cabbage and brussels sprouts? And we all know what Great-Uncles Ernest and Eugene were like at the family picnic after a couple of plates of baked beans. With great mounds of these gaseous greens, a Silent Night it's unlikely to be!

Well, let's move from the holiday table to more practical, everyday eating, with the Amy Vanderbilt Success Program For Women "Casserole Cookery" book. And this book truly understands the pain of the modern 60s homemaker:

"Does your husband groan when you mention you are going to have a casserole for dinner?... Between you and me, many a delectable casserole has been made from left-overs, but husbands usually have to be shielded from the information that left-overs are the prime ingredient..."

(The poor dear flowers. So sensitive.)

"...Casserole cooking should be creative and stimulating, both in an intellectual and gustatorial manner..."

That's right, folks. "Intellectual" and "stimulating." So with that, I give you:


Kraut and Frankfurter Tahitian-- "a flavorful combination of sauerkraut, pineapple, onion, green pepper and frankfurters."

Ah, Tahiti... the waves, the breeze, the outdoor stands where you can get a red-hot with kraut on it for just under a Pacific franc.

What, you'd heard Tahitian cuisine was based on the island's French and Polynesian heritage? No, no, no! That's just for TOURISTS. TRUE island cuisine reflects all the processed meat gusto of an Oktoberfest in Munich. Remember, this dish is "intellectual." So it knows about culture and context and all of that stuff the rest of us don't. Trust the cookbook. It's a lot smarter than we are.

As proven by the inclusion of this little guy...


This is the island god, Ozca Maia. He's protector of the processed meats and ensures the prosperity of the island's vast cabbage plantations. You use him to distract your husband from the fact he's eating leftovers by prompting a fresh and exciting dinnertime conversation.

Conversation like, "Honey, what is this wooden thing, and why does it look like it's yodeling?"

That's when you tell him that yodeling was a popular ancient Polynesian pasttime, vital to tribal morale and communication. In fact, Tahitian Idol, as they called it, was the island's most popular weekly evening event.

See, how much more this cookbook knows than we do?

Now that we're done with cultural exploration of the South Seas, we move on to our friends in the North. The Far North. With "Swedish Pancakes with Tuna."


Note the gelatinous mold in the background, which is a to-scale replica of Sweden's famous ice hotel...

Or possibly the end scene in Ghostbusters after Mr. Stay-Puft exploded over that art deco apartment building.


Well, ice hotel or achitecture coated in nuked Fluff , it's an elegant way to showcase your culinary talents and distract your guests from the pot o' cheesy fishy bed-rolls before them.

Finally, today we unveil a side dish...


"Red Cabbage with Marrons and Bacon." This is described as "a delicious combination of flavors and a good accompaniment to meat, especially pork." Because, of course, what goes better with pork than... more pork? These vintage cookbooks are about nothing if not variety.

That aside, in my own ignorance, (because as I'd said before, I'm not as intellectual as this cookbook), I had to look up what marrons are. Merriam-Webster defines marrons as "chestnuts, and especially Spanish chestnuts, preserved in vanilla-flavored syrup."

So, looking at the full ingredients here, we're talking cabbage, bacon, red wine, a quarter pound of butter, and then nuts preserved in vanilla-flavored syrup?

The nice thing about this dish is how it caters to the low-cal heart-health set.

And best of all, when you're reaching for your insulin and clutching your chest from the angina, you might not even think about how much this dish looks like a human rights organization example of how undetected landmines hurt millions every year.

In the mood to read additional posts on questionable recipes of the past? You might enjoy:

• "Dubious Dinner and Riotous Retro Recipes," where sausages swim in synchronized routines and vegetarian dishes may very well be man-eating... click here

• Or "The Horrors of Home Cooking: Recipes of Yesteryear" where Worchestershire sauce demonstrates its versatility as well as its ability to instill gastronimic fear. Click here for that one.

Or, if that's not your style-- click here to check out last "Treasure Box Wednesday: In the Pink with Pottery, Pyrex and Plates."

Otherwise, I hope to see you this coming Wednesday! (Hmmm... I'm hungry. Time to remove that vegetable wall display and have a nosh.)