[SB Sandy and I are traveling for the next couple of weeks. We’re in semi- exotic places, presumably eating good food and swilling more-than-decent wine. You’ll hear about it anon. Meanwhile, we are revisiting the 1950s and 60s, culinarily speaking, inspired by a connection that SB Bill (Hinesburg SBs) provided to a book and website called The Gallery of Regrettable Food. It’s a revisitation to the food wasteland that is collectively known as “our childhoods.” I will try to make it clear if the snarky comments are theirs or mine, putting theirs in italics ( ). SB SM]
By the early 60s, Gel-Cookery had fallen into a rut. It seemed as if everything that could be done had been done. Molds? Yes. Tomato aspics? Yes. Molds? Um, yes. But then someone got a bright idea: what if we frame all the steps of the Gel-Cookery process in the shape of a cathode ray tube? Might this not give our product new credibility, vault it into the modern age of Telstar, of Dumont, of J. Fred Muggs?
And so this completely new guide to Gel-Cookery was born. But what was Gel-Cookery, exactly?. Simply put, Gel-Cookery was a process wherein simple foods were suspended in a chilled solution of horse-hoof powder. Imagine meaty Jell-O as the main course, and you get the picture. Best of all, it built strong fingernails, and it was good for dieting women who yearned for that Twiggy-skinny look.
A sample of the recipes – step by step instructions framed in the comforting shape of the TV screen. How could you go wrong? After all, Walter Cronkite appeared in the exact same space.
We’ve switched to black-and-white, just as the folks at home would see it. Oh, the Rockefellers down the block had color, but when it came to this book, they’d see it in monochrome just like most people. Honestly, sometimes you think he turned the TV towards the front window just so people walking by could see he had color.
She drinks, too, you know. They’re not very happy.
| Garden Salad #1 Imagine you’re hungover. Deeply hungover. Someone presents you with this – and shakes the plate so it wiggles. Frankly, it already looks like someone heaved into a mold and stuck the result in the fridge. But that’s Gel-Cookery! |
Main element contained therein: Kidney Beans.
Personally, I don’t eat anything that’s the same color as a 1997-era computer.
That concludes our journey into Gel-Cookery, TV style. Keep in mind that the show only featured the dishes being made – and then whisked, fully chilled, from the fridge. What they didn’t show was the hours between construction and consumption. The moment when the housewife put the dish in the gleaming white Fridgedaire, looked at the clock to see if it would be ready for supper, mentally calculated the time until the kids came home, then realized that three hours of chores laid ahead and only two hours remained. It was enough to make a lady drink a Pink Squirrel in mid-afternoon, say To Heck With It! and let the house just BE for a day.
Sit down. Turn on the TV and watch Merv. Maybe he’ll sing; he’s funny when he sings. Dot down the block is probably watching Merv; she has a lady who comes in three times a week to clean . . .and of course, she doesn’t have any kids . . .but of course, she drinks. Still, she seems happy and all, and if her husband is bothered by anything HE doesn’t show it, being a doctor and all. Probably carrying on with a nurse, though . . .poor Dot.
