Vinegar Valentines and a Sweet Treat

Last weekend was Valentine's Day.  A wonderful, amazing holiday wherein we show our love for those nearest and dearest to us by fattening them up with candy.

Valentine's Day wasn't always just about showing love though, in the '40s (actually from the mid 1800s through the 1950s) it was also an opportunity tell 'em how you really feel.

In addition to the flowery and poetic cards given to sweethearts there were also "vinegar valentine" cards to share with those who had prickly personalities.

It sounds mean, right?  Of course, there were a variety of cards to convey the sentiment of "Hey, you're creepy.  Stop hitting on me."  However, there were also cards for things like letting a mean sales clerk know you don't like his snotty attitude, or telling a snob she's fooling no one.

Sadly, I know around 6 people who need this card.

                                       

I think this is an ingenious means of social control.  I have to wonder whether people were more polite back then for fear of getting a bunch of angry greeting cards every February.  I would imagine that if a person were to receive more than one of these, they would have to re-think their way of approaching people.

As fun as these cards are, I am nowhere near brave enough to send one.  Were they still in fashion, I'd probably receive one calling me a "percy pants" (40s slang for wimp).  Instead of being mean, I celebrated Valentine's the modern way... by making old-fashioned candy.

This week's recipe is a candy called "Panocha."

It's pretty easy to make.  You start by heating up 1 cup milk with 3 cups brown sugar until it reaches the "soft ball" stage (aka 238*).

This is pretty boring, better listen to some tunes.

Once the sugar mix is properly heated add 2 Tbsp butter and 1 tsp vanilla.  Let this sit until lukewarm. When it's ready, beat the mixture until it is creamy.  (This was the only difficult part and I wasn't able to get mine "creamy" only just a little bit thicker, I guess.)  Stir in 1 cup of nut-meats (I used walnuts) and pour into a buttered pan.

Had the book been more specific, I would've known to use a smaller pan. Sigh.

Once it hardens, cut into squares and serve.

After waiting countless hours (okay, like 2) for the candy to harden I gave up and got myself a spoonful of sticky, nut filled, candy slurry. It tastes like something that it isn't quite ready to be eaten, but very sugary so it's not all bad.  My best guess is that this will eventually turn out to be basically toffee with walnuts.  If you have the patience for candy-making, I say go for it.  From what I can tell, this is gooey, cavity-inducing, goodness in the making.

A Wintertime Solution 40s Style and a Hearty Winter Meal

We have arrived at everyone's favorite time of year... the dead of winter.

In December the winter doesn't seem so bad (that's because it's still fall), in January the weather starts to get hard-core, but there is a sense that we only have to make it through the one month and then the worst will be over. With February comes the disappointment that it's all still happening, and the sudden realization that March usually sucks too. Then we start to remember that one time it snowed in April or that year where it seemed that summer never started at all. Ahhhh!!!!!

Winter came in the 40s as well (of course), and one enterprising man felt he had the perfect solution for the problem of trying to traverse Chicago's icy streets without wasting fuel or rubber. I present you Joe Steinlauf's "Ice Bike."

The bicycle, designed to punch through the ice, had no rubber on the tires, and was even equipped with mittens on the handles. I like the way you think Joe. Not mentioned in the article, but if one were to wander into the wrong part of town, I believe the wheels could be used for self defense.

I don't anticipate getting much cycling in, as I plan to deal with the remainder of this particularly harsh, Midwestern winter the best way I know how... by eating rich and hearty foods. Mmmmm.

On this week's menu we have Swiss Steak. Warm, heavy, stick-to-your-ribs Swiss Steak. The perfect way to kick-off a month long pseudo-hibernation. 

To make the steaks season 1/2 cup flour with salt and pepper. Pound the flour into 2 lbs round steak with a meat mallet (or if like me, you have no meat mallet, you can set up a more complicated system involving wax paper and a rolling pin).

There's a joke here, but I can't tell it to you.

Brown the meat in hot fat, then add a few onion slices, 1/2 green pepper, 1 cup boiling water, and 1 cup strained tomatoes. (I didn't know what strained tomatoes were, so I used stewed tomatoes. A way too late Google search indicates that I should have gone with tomato paste.) Cover the pan and let simmer for 2 hours. Alternatively, this can be cooked in a casserole dish, in the oven for 1.5 hours at 350*.

Oh man, even raw this looks good. **drool**

It smelled amazing and waiting for it to be ready was an almost painful experience. Sadly, it was a painful experience with no end. It turns out stewed tomatoes are no substitute for tomato paste. You see, stewed tomatoes have a much higher water content, and water, of course, burns off. If you are, say, on the phone with your bestie and not paying attention to the stove, you won't notice that the water is gone and that your amazing, tender, and savory steaks are being converted into lumps of coal.

I can at least compress this into diamonds, right?

I shaved some un-charred meat from one so I could get a taste of what could have been. In the immortal words of Tiffany, "It could have been so right."  My fiance had one and he ate the whole thing, he said it was pretty good, but I think that just means he was pretty hungry.

Honestly, I'm shocked that I've made it all the way to post 14 before burning something to a cinder. My son teases me that hearing the fire alarm is how he knows breakfast is ready. It's a little sad though, because we were all really looking forward to this one. However, I am grateful to be living in a time when a cooking failure is merely a bummer and not a waste of the tightly rationed family food supply.

Oh well, I am hanging up my apron for the night to have a supper of cheese sticks and ice-cream sandwiches. Nutritious.

Football in the 40s and Vintage Finger Food

Even though the "Big Game" did not debut until 1961, that doesn't mean Football wasn't a big deal in the 40s. The NFL existed in the 40s, and they even have the pictures to prove it. (For the record, Da Bears were the ones to beat - Go Bears!)  The NFL Championship game was pretty much the precursor to the Super Bowl. In 1940 The Bears scored what remains to be the most number of points earned by a single team in league history. (Go Bears!)

The 1940s also brought a new league onto the scene, the AFL III. The Bengals and the Chiefs were borne from this league. Their foray into the competition was short-lived though (1940 - 1941), and they are credited with the dissolution of the American Professional Football Association. (That would be according to Wikipedia, and since I don't know what I am talking about, we'll just roll with it.)

I do know this about football; the helmets in the 40s did not look like they could provide much protection.

Don't worry about that big guy running at you. This'll keep ya safe.

                                                      

Now, for those of us that don't know much about the game. Here is an instructional video from the 40s. We can learn all about how football is just like chess, except with head injuries.

Of course, all this sports chat is because this week's recipe was made for a Superb Owl party. Now, I'm not a sports person, per se, so the "party" in question actually took place at my office during my lunch break. But whatever, a party's a party and I always welcome the chance to lure new people into my vintage food experiment.

I've made the only real transportable finger food the book has to offer, canapés. Nothing is more fun than a snack food with a pretentious sounding name.

There are a variety of canapé toppings suggested in the book. There are a few listed in the standard part of the book and quite a few more in the wartime rationing sectioning. Frankly, I thought they all sounded pretty gross. I found what I took to be the two least detestable versions in the rationing section.

We start with toast points.

Toast is my specialty.

The first topping was a mixture of 1 cup grated cheese, any kind (I used finely shredded jack because of a grater mishap that I don't like to talk about), 4 Tbsp chopped sweet pickle (I used sweet pickle relish. That was not a good idea), and enough mayonnaise to bind the mixture. This looked and smelled about as appealing as it sounds.

The second was a mixture of 1 cup liverwurst, 2 Tbsp mayonnaise, 1 Tbsp lemon juice, and 1/4 tsp pepper.

The resultant "spreads" struck me as a bit stomach turning.

So this was a food, that people would eat... on purpose. Interesting.

I was sincerely hoping that these would be a lot more presentable on toast since I was committed to feeding this delicacy to my colleagues. I felt like I had a reputation around the office for not being a horrible person. This dish was sure to blow my cover.

Sadly, my hopes were dashed...

"Is that dog food?" - Confused Coworker

I really, really tried to bring myself to try one. It seems wrong to blog about food without actually eating it. But I couldn't do it. Piping this mess onto toast was triggering my gag-reflex, there was no hope of me actually ingesting it. However, my brave contemporaries did try them. Word on the street is the cheese mixture was good. I don't buy it. The relish was a mistake, it was my mistake and I totally own it. I seriously thought that relish was just grated pickle. It is not. Not even close. A few people had the liver paté. All of them seemed to really like it, and most of the liver was gone by the end of the party.

I will definitely not be making this again. Toast points are made for caviar (something else I won't eat) or BLT dip only. Oh well. Live and learn. Now let's enjoy some kicky ball.

The Trouble with Bread and Butter in the 40s (Bread Recipe)

Oleo... if you are a fan of crossword puzzles, you are familiar with the term. Oleo is an old-school, colloquial term for margarine. Although the product had already been on the market for some time, oleo was not truly popular until wartime butter rationing. The reason for its lack of public appeal is that it was a giant pain to use. When it was developed (during the 1800s), dairy farmers got hella jealous and lobbied to disallow the product from being dyed yellow. Without the yellow dye oleo just looks like a gross hunk of fat that nobody wants to eat. Butter makers knew this well, because they were dying their own product. A law was passed, but left room for a loophole, wherein margarine makers included a dye pack that could be worked in at home.

"Easy" is false advertising, but "E-Z" is marketing.

Once butter rationing went into play, oleo made its way into kitchens across the country. Homemakers and children everywhere took on the laborious task of coloring margarine. (Apparently having a yellow spread is very, very important to people.)

As though this was not trouble enough, for a brief period in the early 40s a law was passed forbidding the sale of pre-sliced bread. The ban, intended to reduce the cost of labor in bread production, was short lived (Jan. 18th 1943 - March 3rd 1943). There was too much backlash from the public. It seems like an odd place for people to draw a line, especially considering all of the hardships during that time, but I feel like I understand. February 1943 was officially the worst time in American history to make a simple piece of toast.

In honor of their "rising" troubles, I am baking bread... from scratch. I have never baked bread before, because it seems like a process that is both time-consuming and a little bit intimidating. So. many. steps. (I was not entirely wrong.)

The recipe du jour is the Standard Recipe for White Bread.

To make the bread add 1 cake (or envelope) yeast to 1/4 cup lukewarm water and 1 tsp sugar. Set that aside for 5 minutes. In a separate bowl, add 1 1/2 tsp salt, 2 Tbsp shortening, and 2 Tbsp sugar to 2 cups scalded milk. (I had to call on my parents for this one. Scalding milk means almost bringing it to a boil.) Add the softened yeast to the milk mixture (making it smell like beer... and milk... yum) and 3 cups "sifted" flour. (Yeah, I'm not really about sifting any more.) Beat well.

Good luck removing the dough from the mixer

Add an indeterminate amount of flour to make the dough soft. (I took this to mean, add flour until the "dough" stops sticking to your fingers.) Put a bunch more flour (I'm seriously not being any less specific than the cook book) onto a board and knead the dough on that surface until "smooth" and "elastic."

Nothing says smooth like dry flour.

Place the dough in a greased bowl. Flip the dough over so it gets greased all the way around. Leave the doughy mass in the bowl until it doubles in size. Punch that baby down and cut into halves. Round each half into a ball and let stand 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, shape into loaves and place in greased bread pans. Grease the tops and let rise until it doubles in size. Bake at 400* for 10 minutes.

But wait... there's more... Reduce oven temperature to 375* and bake for 40 minutes more.

30 minutes in. Is "golden black" a thing?

I only have one bread pan, so my other dough ball is being left idly by to grow and grow while waiting its turn. It's creepy and reminds me of Panera's "mother."

The first loaf is really tasty, even despite the fact that it's a little too done. I plan to watch mother closely to try and get her out of the oven right at the point of Maillard Reaction. The most delicious chemical reaction known to man.

I recommend the recipe, if baking bread is your cup of tea. For me, I will continue to revel in the amazing gift that is pre-made, pre-sliced bread available wherever things are sold.

The Bare Cupboard

I had big plans for this week's recipe, but alas I am lazy and the store is far. I checked the book to see whether there was anything I could make from the items I have on hand, but as anyone with teen-aged children knows, there really isn't anything on hand. If it's edible, it gets eaten pretty quickly.

In honor of my empty cabinets, I present you Old Mother Hubbard as interpreted by Ray Harryhausen.

Ray Harryhausen was a prominent stop motion animator. He served during WWII helping to make propaganda films, which included contributions to Capra's famous Why We Fight series. Old Mother Hubbard was part of the animated Mother Goose Stories, released in 1946, which was his first big civilian project post enlistment.

Harryhausen's influential work had a broad impact on special effects and helped push us toward the amazing feats of film we see today. (More importantly, I have a hunch he inspired those amazing Tool videos.)

In my own amazing feat, I will go to the grocery store soon... probably.

It's A Wonderful Life and a Simple, but Festive Dessert

It's A Wonderful Life, released in 1946, is one of my all time favorite films. Much to the chagrin of my family, I watch it at least once every winter and love it every time. The movie was not so well liked when it was released as it is today. When it first ran in theaters, it didn't even recover it's productions costs. It was considered by the FBI to be communist propaganda. This, to me, is a completely valid interpretation, but that is what is so amazing about the movie. The first few times I watched it I saw the story of a man whose life begins to unravel, only to have an angel reveal to him why his life has so much meaning. Later, like the FBI, I started to see a story about the importance of socialist programs and the evils of capitalism run amok. (Although, I must say, Pottersville looked pretty fun to me.) Later still, I saw the story of a man with big dreams who got tangled up with a woman who had a sinister plan to tie him down for the pursuit of her own goals. She won.

The real reason audiences disliked the movie (according to the Special Features on my DVD) is that it was too schmaltzy. It was dubbed "Capra-corn."  But I don't find it to be that syrupy, and there are some great sarcastic one-liners, like:

"You call this a happy family!?  Why do we gotta have all these kids!?" (Ouch Dad!)
"I was saving this money for a divorce, if I ever I got a husband." (Now that's practical thinking.)

And who doesn't love the Charleston over the swimming pool scene? It's a classic for sure.

In order to celebrate my own "wonderful life" (well, really I had intended for this recipe to celebrate the new year ) I've made a simple, festive dessert called a syllabub.

The syllabub is made by whipping two cups of whipping cream until stiff. Then fold in 1/2 cup powdered sugar and 1 Tbps rum. "Ripen" in the refrigerator for a half an hour. The book says to cover it, but it adds the phrase "of course" so you can feel stupid if you didn't think of that on your own.

I decided to make half with rum and half with cocoa powder so my son could try one too. He said that his was "good and chocolaty." I was worried that I wouldn't like mine, since I'm not a fan of liquor, (and I bought the cheapest rum I could find), but I found it to be quite tasty. Light, a little sweet, and a little buttery.

"A civilized syllabub to blow your mind" - Tori Amos

I'm calling this one a definite win. I will certainly make more of these for company and will try some of the variations found online with champagne or lemon juice. A wonderful life? Maybe. A wonderful dessert? Absolutely.

Armistice Day Snowstorm (No Recipe)

Here in the Midwest we are being kicked in the teeth by the weather.  I was planning to make a syllabub to ring in the new year, but snow, slush and now a deep freeze have been keeping me from the market where the sweet, sweet rum is located - so no recipe for this week.  Perhaps next weekend I will be able to make the celebratory dessert to commemorate things like seeing the sun, not shoveling, or passable roads.

In the meantime, I will just be glad that it isn't Nov. 11th, 1940. The date of the infamous Armistice Day Snowstorm.

Now that's a lot of snow!

This was a snowstorm that famously sneaked up on the Midwest, like a thief in the night during what began as a warm and sunny reprieve from wintry weather, to dump 5 ft of snow on the ground and created drifts up to 20 ft high with it's 45 mph winds. Yikes!

Keep warm and if you have some rum around, heat it up. I've heard good things.