Looking Back and Looking Ahead

One of the rules widely touted out there by dieters these days is that you're not supposed to weigh yourself very often. Once a week, tops. This is one rule I've been breaking regularly. In fact, these days, I weigh myself each and every morning. Is it a roller coaster? Yes. Up an ounce, one day. Down seven ounces, the next. Up three ounces, the day after that. Down 1 lb. the next day. My weight fluctuates on a daily basis --- it could make me dizzy if I let it. But it also allows me to see instantaneous feedback.

There are times of the month (*ahem*) when I have to read the scale without letting myself react to it. Water retention throws everything off. For the most part, though, what I see on the scale in the morning directly correlates to my behavior the day before. (Oddly enough, I've learned that I tend to see more ounces fall off during the week - when I'm only getting 30 minutes of aerobic exercise per day - than on the weekends - when I'm getting 65 minutes of aerobic exercise per day. This isn't what I would've expected, but it's an interesting pattern.) If I indulge in a less than ideal evening snack, it's right there in those numbers the next morning. Knowing that I have to face the music in just a matter of hours can sometimes be all the incentive I need not to do that snacking. And if I'm disappointed by the morning's numbers, it gives me that much more of a push to do the very best job I can do at reducing during the day ahead.

Are there any diet "rules" you've broken with successful results?

Did I ever tell y'all about the Jelly Omelet I tried making a few months ago? I was eating an Omelet the other day for breakfast and remembered the disaster. Well, I don't know if it was exactly a disaster, just not a very appetizing dish. Jelly Omelets were all over the place during the '40s. If a restaurant or diner served breakfast, you'd be hard pressed not to find a Jelly Omelet on the menu. I guess they've been replaced today with dishes like Denver Omelets and Stuffed French Toast. They were one of the culinary fads of the time. At any rate, I was dying to find out what they tasted like. So when I came across a recipe in my 1945 cookbook... I had to try! It's actually just a variation on the basic recipe for a Plain Omelet:

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JELLY OMELET - Spread any jelly or jam over the omelet just before folding.

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Maybe my omelet wasn't quite set enough when I added the jelly. The grape jelly I used just soaked itself into the eggs and I ended up with, well, a purple omelet. Let me clarify: a sweet, purple omelet. I lost all of that lovely egg-y, peppery flavor that I'm looking for in an omelet. Ah well, I had to give it a shot.

It's been a busy week. My supervisor is on vacation through September 21, so I'm going to be one tired little Jitterbug while I'm covering for her. I remember feeling panicked last winter when she was on vacation. Worried that I wouldn't be able to keep up with my new household chores --- and it was quite a short list at the time! Seeing her off on vacation again has been a kind of yardstick for me. I know it's going to be a tiring couple of weeks - and I might not have the energy to blog as frequently - but it's not going to impact my housekeeping or my vintage beauty regimen. These routines have become just that: routine. I may have to shuffle some chores around sometimes, but the work gets done. It's kind of neat to be able to look back and see how things have changed. Once things get back to normal at work, I've got some exciting new fall projects in the works. I'm looking forward to tightening up that kitchen routine a bit more, adding a weekly cleaning of the living room to my list of chores, and doing some long overdue decorating. (My apartment is sorely in need!) And plenty of weight left to lose. That's for sure.

"...when we knew them by the shape of their legs"

Here it is Friday and I haven't posted anything yet about last Sunday's vintage dinner! Thank goodness for "Independence Day Observed" - it gives me the chance to do some serious catching up on all fronts. (I'll do my observing tomorrow.)

Eggs Scrambled with Chopped Chives or Parsley
Salad of Shredded Lettuce and Carrots and Chopped Sweet Pickle
Roll
Blueberry Pudding

Recommended by The American Woman's Cook Book (1945) as a menu for a Saturday evening, this was a wonderful change of pace after a hot summer's day. Just the kind of the meal that would allow a housewife some extra time to get her children through their Saturday night baths... I added some Parsley to my Scrambled Eggs. Most of you could probably scramble eggs with your eyes closed, but I thought you might enjoy seeing a '40s take on the recipe.

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BATTERED OR SCRAMBLED EGGS

In a frying-pan, place one teaspoon of butter for each egg. Beat the eggs until the whites and yolks are well mixed. Season with salt and pepper and add one to three tablespoons of milk or cream for each egg. Pour into the hot fat and cook slowly, stirring constantly until the eggs are of the desired consistency. Serve at once. A little onion-juice or chopped parsley may be added to the eggs, if desired.

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I made the salad using iceberg lettuce, carrot, and chopped sweet gherkins. The whole-wheat roll was purchased at the supermarket --- a nod to the foods commercially available by the 1940s. The Blueberry Pudding was a simple cottage pudding with fresh blueberries added to the batter. It was so good, but I'm afraid it'll be the last of my desserts from these dinner menus for a little while. (The leftovers are way too tasty!) I'm going to substitute either a baked custard, sherbet, or pudding for the vintage suggestions.

The summer rains have moved into this part of the desert. I use the word "rains" loosely - it rains for about 5-10 minutes in the late afternoon - but the storms do stir up some lovely wind and cloudy skies... So it was time to clean my bedroom yesterday evening and a storm had just passed by. For the first time in all these months, I had to find an alternative to airing my bedcovers and pillows on the landing outside my door. The railing was wet and water was still dripping from the roof. Hmmm. What's a good housewife-who's-not-a-wife-and-works-outside-the-home-five-days-a-week to do? I reached for The Manual. Aha!

Remove all bed covers; stretch over end of bed, or over chairs, off the floor.

That - I could do. And at least it gives you a chance to open the windows and air the mattress. Making up my bed again afterwards wasn't quite as satisfying an experience as it usually is. I didn't get to beat the pillows or give the bedcovers a good shake - didn't want to stir up any fresh dust indoors - but it was a decent trade in a pinch.

Have you ever read Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon books? I'm reading the second one, Leaving Home (1987), and there's a thought he expressed in passing that's making me especially mindful these days of the way my legs look. (Mindful to the point where I may have overdone it with my new exercises yesterday --- my legs are aching this morning!) It's a passage in the opening essay to the book that made me think of my legs. A beautiful passage in more ways than one. It makes me laugh and weep a little at the same time. I laugh, because I'd like to be known by my nieces as the aunt with fabulous legs!

When I was little I didn't think of grownups as having bare skin; grownups were made of wool clothing, only kids were bare naked...

Every time I read a book about how to be smarter, how not to be sad, how to raise children and be happy and grow old gracefully, I think "Well, I won't make those mistakes, I won't have to go through that," but we all have to go through that. Everything they went through, we'll go through. Life isn't a vicarious experience. You get it figured out and then one day life happens to you. You prepare yourself for grief and loss, arrange your ballast and then the wave swamps the boat.

Everything they went through: the loneliness, the sadness, the grief, and the tears--it will all come to us, just as it came to them when we were little and had to reach up to get hold of their hand, when we knew them by the shape of their legs. Aunt Marie had fat little legs, I held her hand one cold day after a blizzard, we climbed snowdrifts to get to the store and buy licorice whips. She said, "Come on, we can make it, don't slip," and soon she was far behind, a fat lady in a heavy coat with a fur collar, leaning into the wind, wheezing from emphysema, and sometime later she died. She knew that death was only a door to the kingdom where Jesus would welcome her, there would be no crying there, no suffering, but meanwhile she was fat, her heart hurt, and she lived alone with her ill-tempered little dogs, tottering around her dark little house full of Chinese figurines and old Sunday Tribunes. She complained about nobody loving her or wanting her or inviting her to their house for dinner anymore. She sat eating pork roast, mashed potato, creamed asparagus, one Sunday at our house when she said it. We were talking about a trip to the North Shore and suddenly she broke into tears and cried, "You don't care about me. You say you do but you don't. If I died tomorrow, I don't know as you'd even go to my funeral." I was six. I said, cheerfully, "I'd come to your funeral," looking at my fat aunt, her blue dress, her string of pearls, her red rouge, the powder on her nose, her mouth full of pork roast, her eyes full of tears.

Every tear she wept, that foolish woman, I will weep every one before I am done and so will you. We're not so smart we can figure out how to avoid pain, and we cannot walk away from the death we owe.

So true. For all our modern technologies, shopping malls, and miracle drugs, we can't avoid the mistakes and fears and losses that shaped the lives of our grandmothers, our great-grandmothers, and their great-grandmothers before them... If you've never read any of Keillor's books - or listened to his marvelous Prairie Home Companion on NPR - you've got something wonderful in store. He paints such a frank and beautiful picture of life in a small Minnesota town. His bits in Lake Wobegon Days on the scandal of air conditioning and over-ambitious tomato gardeners --- genius!

Symphony

One of the blessings of having turned off my television is getting to listen to something a little different - the sounds of home. Surely, I must've heard these sounds before, but I guess I never really listened to them...

Like the snap of a clean towel when you're folding laundry. I love to give my towels and washcloths a sharp, precise shake before folding them, just to shake any last wrinkles out before they're folded and tucked away in the linen closet.

And the cheery sound of voices when I turn on my radio in the morning. I usually turn it on as I'm heading into the kitchen to get breakfast started. And whether the news is good or bad, the voices are welcome companionship after a long, quiet night with nothing but the air conditioner to interrupt the calm.

Like the tap-tap-tapping of an egg in a covered pan as it bubbles away for my breakfast. And the ticking of my Toastmaster, growing ever faster as the toast gets closer to the finish. Happy sounds indeed after a long snack-less night!

I love the sound of hissing steam as my iron heats up on Tuesday nights... It's a promising sound - one that betokens a closet soon replenished with smooth, neatly pressed garments.

On Thursday evenings, it's a "Whap! Whap! Whap!" outdoors on the landing when - after airing my bed covers and pillows for an hour - I give the pillows a good shake and smack them against each other a few times. Just to get the dust out. (Though it's handy, too, in working out any workaday frustrations.)

I'd forgotten what a satisfying task snapping string beans can be. And it makes another fantastic sound!

Mashed Potato Cakes
String Beans
Salad of Cottage Cheese Stuffed Prunes
Apple Brown Betty

It was all about comfort food for my vintage dinner last Sunday. Mashed Potato Cakes are a clever way to serve up leftovers. Add salt, pepper, and egg yolk to a dish of cold mashed potatoes. Form into patties, place a dab of margarine on top of each, and bake in a greased pan. Just long enough to brown the bottoms of the patties. The Cottage Cheese Stuffed Prunes made for a very rich salad - which would have been even richer if I'd laced it with French Dressing (as instructed by the recipe)! I've never eaten Apple Brown Betty before, so thought it might turn out something like an apple crisp. Not quite. Kind of like a soft apple crisp - without the crunch. Ruth Berolzheimer, the author of The American Woman's Cook Book (1945), must've been nuts about bread crumbs. They show up practically every week! I'm beginning to get suspicious now every time I see them. Hmmm... what kind of missing ingredient is she trying to cover up with bread crumbs this time?

and Jimmy F. . . .

We thought Mr. F. had it bad! Listen in as Better Homes and Gardens delivers the scoop on the unfortunate son of these breakfast-spurning parents. Can his morning habits be reformed?

and Jimmy F. . . .

Jimmy F., 12, has more A's on his absence record than on his report card. His teacher thinks he's dull, but his real trouble is mineral and vitamin deficiency. Underweight and small for his age, he doesn't pay attention.

At fault is Jimmy's habit of getting up too late to eat breakfast. His stomach has been empty more than 10 hours, since average meal leaves in 4. No wonder he can't concentrate on decimals...

In school, Jimmy can't see the blackboard well, his vision is dim from deficiency of B2. By 10 o'clock he feels drowsy, thinks history is the dullest subject he takes.

During gym period, no one wants Jimmy on soccer team. [Twisting the screws of guilt into that lackadaisical Mrs. F.!] He's weak, bruises easily (Vitamin C deficiency). Vitamin C isn't stored in the body, must be provided daily...

Overhungry at noon, Jimmy eats lunch so fast that his digestion is upset for the rest of the day, trying to care for this sudden heavy load of food improperly chewed.

Boy, 12, 58 inches tall, weighing 85 pounds needs about 2,900 calories a day.

Suggested breakfast
Large orange
2/3 cup flaked wheat
1/4 cup top milk
1 cup whole milk
2 slices toast (whole-wheat raisin bread)
1 tablespoon butter
1 soft-cooked egg
2 tablespoons jam

I guess home economists of the time assumed that kids would like food best that they could pick apart for themselves - oranges, soft-cooked eggs. I ate a modified version of this breakfast myself yesterday morning: orange slices, raisin bread toast with butter and jam, and a hard-cooked egg.

Case of Mr. F. . . .

We met Mrs. F. a two days ago and got to know why even a dieting housewife needs a good day's breakfast. Alas, her disinterest in breakfast has led her to prepare boring meals for Mr. F. every morning, and now he can't be bothered with breakfast any longer. Can Better Homes and Gardens save the day?

Case of Mr. F. . . .

Mr. F. has no appetite for breakfast, often goes to the office without eating anything, getting coffee and rolls later on. He feels midmorning hunger pangs, yawns at his desk. His hands aren't steady as he lights a cigarette (B1 shortage) [I'm betting that's just the nicotine!] and he's losing his hair prematurely (B2 deficiency).

Breakfasts served were so monotonous that Mr. F. lost interest in eating...

Mineral and vitamin defects lead to his lowered mental activity. Diminishing glycogen reserves (form in which sugar, starches are stored in the tissues) hasten fatigue, important factor in accidents. Most industrial injuries occur before noon.

In evening, at home, Mr. F. is tuckered out, irritable; doesn't want to romp with the children...

Calculated energy expenditure for man weighing 154 pounds, in sedentary job, is about 2,400 calories a day.

Suggested breakfast

1/2 medium grapefruit

1/2 shredded wheat biscuit

Fried egg

2 crisp bacon strips

2 slices toast (whole wheat)

1 tablespoon butter

1/4 cup top milk

5/8 cup whole milk

2 teaspoons sugar

Coffee

I sampled Mr. F.'s suggested breakfast menu this morning - without the bacon, of course. I skipped the shredded wheat as I was already eating toast with the egg. A filling meal, though frying isn't my favorite way to prepare eggs. It's tough to keep them from browning and get that yolk fully cooked. I've got half a grapefruit left over, so I'll give that another try tomorrow morning.

Today is Ironing Day, and I think I'm making some headway with this new craft o' mine. The only one of those Top Ten tips that is still eluding me: "Iron with straight strokes, with the thread of the fabric." You quilters out there must be able to recognize the "thread" right away, but this is still so mysterious to me. And in some of these synthetic blends, I can barely even discern a weave to the fabric. I think I must have learned to iron by puddling the iron about in semi-circles, so straight strokes feel very awkward. Did the '40s housewife have to maneuver the iron about in this way because the irons weren't as smooth and light as today's irons, or are "straight strokes" actually easier on the fabric?

Well, I've just finished ironing my first sheet. I tried it this first time using the "four thickness at once" method, and it didn't take too, too long. It's neatly folded and stacked up with two freshly ironed pillowcases. (They haven't looked this good since they came out of the package!) But what to do with the fitted sheet? The manual gives me no help on this topic as fitted sheets hadn't yet been invented. I'm going to have to do some additional research and leave the fitted sheet wrinkly this time 'round.

Investing in the Home

The serving of fruit in my 1944 breakfast menu this morning was a berry-licious first!

Strawberries
Poached Eggs on Toast

Tomorrow, I'm heading one more year back in time to a menu published in 1943...

It's Wednesday - which here in the Jitterbug household means I did a little marketing. I made a couple stops on the way home from work. Picked up a few groceries, and started collecting some of the items I'll need to build my cleaning basket: a large cellulose sponge, a flannel polishing cloth, and a new pair of scissors (so I don't have to keep using the scissors from my mending basket on household jobs!). These "light" marketing trips on Wednesdays haven't done much yet to make my pantry more organized, and I suspect they're not going to make a real difference until I've added a longer trip to the supermarket on Saturdays. For now, I'm just content to try and make a shopping on Wednesday evenings a matter of routine.



As I was taking another look at the bedroom cleaning routine today, I realized that the manual recommends using either a carpet sweeper or vacuum cleaner when giving each room in the house its daily once-over, but when you clean each room more thoroughly once a week only a vac will do. Boy, do they make good use of the attachments. Mine can go untouched for a year, but the authors of the manual advise using your attachments every time you turn around! The vacuum is used to brush fabrics, dust in all those tall or hard-to-reach places - and of course to clean the carpet. Housewives in the '40s who were able to invest in a vacuum cleaner must have felt as if the appliance replaced several hours of work per week that hired help might have provided their mothers a generation before. Vacuum cleaners were a hefty investment. The $48.50 price tag on the Hoover above (plus trade) would be equivalent to more than $700 today!

Irons in the Fire

No sooner did I get home from work this evening and it's almost time for bed! I don't know how the time away from work slips by so quickly on these weekday evenings... It's going to make some of my weekday housecleaning missions loom large. (Can you tell I'm getting the jitters about the mission ahead on Thursday evening?)

On the other side of the equation, I've noticed that ironing my laundry in one fell swoop has actually created some time in my mornings. How cool is that? I pick out my clothes for the day and just pluck them from their hangers. Ready to go. No lugging out the ironing board. No heating the iron for one or two items. One of the reasons I never used to iron everything at once is because I thought the clothes would be wrinkled again by the time I went to wear them. That they'd get wrinkled while they were hanging in the closet. That's actually not the case - which has been a wonderful surprise. It's been a couple weeks, but it's nice to see some payoff from the ironing mission.

And speaking of ironing, I'm getting ready to do just that tonight. The manual advises me to arrange my ironing area with an eye toward moving the clothes from left to right: "Place the clothesbasket at your left, a clothes rack at your right, and be sure there are coat hangers near at hand." Here are a few of the Top Ten tips I'm still striving to be mindful about:

2. When you straighten material on the ironing board or roll of a rotary ironer, use the palms of your hands and smooth from the center out. Your fingers are apt to stretch the fabrics and pull them out of shape.

3. Iron with straight strokes, with the thread of the fabric.

5. Collars, cuffs, sleeves, belts and trimmings are ironed first, then the flat sections of the garment.

My breakfast menu for the last two days has been another of the trio from the 1944 edition of the Good Housekeeping Cook Book:

Half of Grapefruit
Omelet
Toasted English Muffins

The secret I've discovered to making a lovely, golden omelet is keeping the heat at a steady medium. A shade hotter and the omelet starts to brown. At least that's how it works on my stovetop. They're all a little different!

Java Jive

My apron is on, my hair is pinned up, and it’s time to get breakfast started. This morning’s mini-mission? Use my Drip-O-lator for the first time. First, let me warm up the kitchen radio. Here’s my 1944 breakfast menu:

Orange Juice
Scramble Eggs with Cheese
Whole Wheat Toast
Coffee

The only Cheese I’ve got in the house is grated parmesan, so I'll use that. My 1945 cookbook does suggest a few more “adds” for scrambled eggs: onion-juice with parsley, sweet green peppers, or canned pimientos.

The Drip-O-lator (patented in 1921 with revisions in 1930) looks like it works very much like your typical drip coffee maker today, except that the water reservoir is fitted on top instead of behind the coffee pot. The biggest difference is that you have to heat up your water separately. The 1940s housewife probably used a tea kettle. I don’t have one, so I’m just going to run some water through my Mr. Coffee - without the grounds (sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it!).

Deep inside the aluminum fixture is a small well for the coffee grounds. My friend tells me that they didn’t use any coffee filters in the Drip-O-lator, but suggested I use a small filter in there if I didn’t want to end up with any stray grounds in my cup. A perforated metal cap with a tall rod for a handle fits down in there on top of the well. You fill the top of the fixture with hot water and it drips down through the well and into the coffee pot. My water’s heated, but I’m not sure how long I can expect the coffee in the Drip-O-lator to stay warm, so I’m going to start my Scramble Eggs with Cheese first…

The water has been added. It looks like it’s going to take some time for 5 cups’ worth to work its way through the well and down into the coffeepot. While we're waiting, here are a few early ‘40s pictures of the Drip-O-lator in action:

Okay, breakfast is ready, but the coffee’s not. The Drip-O-lator works nowhere near as quickly as my Mr. Coffee. Will the coffee be richer? I’m going to go ahead and eat. Coffee later…

It looks like coffee. It’s not as hot as the coffee I’d pour from my modern coffee maker. (And they didn’t have any microwaves for a quick re-heat!) I gather percolators cooled down real quickly, too. Tastes about the same as the coffee made in the modern coffee maker. It may be tinge richer. Can't quite put my finger on the difference. There must have been housewives trying to keep the coffee warm by putting the pot on a burner, because there's a warning stamped inside the pot. The pot will explode if you heat it on a burner or over an open flame.

I love coffee, I love tea.

I love the java jive and it loves me.

Coffee and tea and the java and me.

A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup!

Hold the Cream

I tried to do it, I really tried. This morning's 1945 breakfast menu started out with Sliced Bananas with Cream. My arteries won the contest, though, and I ate the Bananas without the Cream:

Sliced Bananas

Poached Free Range Eggs on Toast

Cream and Top Milk were a staple fixture on the 1940s breakfast table. And not just for coffee. People laced their cooked cereals with Top Milk. They served cold cereals in bowls of Cream. Now it shows up with fruit. I guess they didn't have the constant commentary on health running through their heads that we do today. Cream and Top Milk were considered nutrient-dense foods, not cholesterol-laden substances to be used in strict moderation. I hesitated before the Cream in the dairy section at the grocery store last Wednesday. Thought I really ought to taste the dish for the sake of The Experiment. But I just couldn't do it.

At any rate, this was the last of the breakfast menus in the front of my cookbook. When I started trying 'em out a couple weeks ago, I expected these menus to be a little ritzier than the ones in the budget feature in the back of the cookbook. Fresher ingredients, maybe. So how did they measure up? Here's a bit I wrote about the budget-conscious menus:

Nearly half of the meals (43%) were built around some sort of cooked cereal. 27% of the menus were built around an egg dish. Baked goods were the main attraction for 20% of the menus, and cold cereal for the remaining 10%... I'm also a vegetarian, so I've taken any meat dishes out of the menus. This didn't take much time. These were the war years, and only 20% of the menus even include meat.

The menus in the front of the book are only built around cooked cereal 9% of the time. Nearly two-thirds of the meals (64%) feature an egg dish, and baked goods lead the way in 27% of the menus. You can see right away just how useful cooked cereals would have been to the housewife who had to be especially careful with money. Somebody who was a little more comfortable financially could count on having eggs at the breakfast table several times a week. Another major difference is that 46% of these front-of-the-book menus include meat - twice the amount as in the back of the book. The only kind of meat referenced in the budget section is bacon, while the menus in the front of the book include codfish, ham, and sausage. Another glimpse into the kind of pantry a thriftier housewife would have kept in the '40s.

I'm not done experimenting with breakfast just yet. I've been able to find eight more vintage breakfast menus in cookbooks and magazines, so I'm going to try these out and then move on to dinner. The first trio of menus is from a 1944 edition of the Good Housekeeping Cook Book (New York: Farrar and Rinehart). I'm also going to fire up my "new" Drip-O-lator for the first time. A friend bought me this lovely contraption last summer and it looks absolutely fabulous on my stovetop, but it was missing the aluminum drip unit that fits in the top. Until Christmas, that is. It's all assembled and ready to go, but I feel a bit like I'm trying out a new Bunsen burner in the lab. Will it make good coffee?

Plugging In...

One of the best things I've learned at the ironing board sounds so simple: if you're a rightie (like me) and you plug in the iron to your left, you'll inevitably end up with a miserably kinked-up cord. All it takes to prevent that is just to plug in the iron to your right. And vice versa for lefties. That's it! The cord to my iron is now smooth and straight - and sooooooo much easier to use. What a difference that one little change made.

As I was doing my ironing last night, it occurred to me that the casual clothes so many of us wear these days are actually not as easy to iron as were the more formal clothes of the '40s. So many of the "blouses" (for lack of a better word) that I wear are some sort of cotton blend with a soft knit texture. And anyone who's tried to iron a tee shirt knows that you're fighting a losing battle against wrinkles. As soon as you iron 'em out, they pop up again in new places! Ironing a fabric with a little more substance to it is much more simple. It sounds kind of ironic - as I'm sure all those vintage collars and plackets and pleats took time - but the fabrics must have been much satisfying to iron.

This morning's breakfast:

Prunes

Graham Muffin (the last of the leftovers)

Baked Eggs

I've never baked eggs before, so I wasn't sure what I'd find when I opened the oven. I didn't have any of the "individual baking dishes" recommended in the recipe, so I used a mini loaf pan and they turned out just fine. A little rubbery - I think I'll bake them at a slightly lower temperature next time - but still good. Do you think I could use something like a popover pan or muffin pan to make Baked Eggs next time? Or would they turn out better in some kind of ceramic or stoneware?

I set forth on my new mission this evening as I stopped at Trader Joe's on the way home from work with a very small list in hand. The manual doesn't have any recommendations for the homecoming shopper, but there are a few words of advice in The Good Housekeeping Housekeeping Book (1947):

Use all the time you need for marketing for these days and putting the food away. Wash and trim fresh vegetables and put them in the refrigerator ready for use.

That's a great idea. It'd certainly save you some time when it was time to put supper on the table or pack the family's lunch boxes. I didn't get any veggies this trip. Guess I'll have to get those crispers in my refrigerator ready for use next time...

Are You Sure It's Been a Week?

My first thought when my alarm started buzzing at me yesterday morning: "Monday, again? Already?" Yep, the week makes it's round very quickly. I can remember so easily how happy I was last Tuesday evening when the washing and ironing were done. My clothes were clean and pressed. And not a speck of laundry to worry about for the rest of the week. Liberation! I'm not sure how those five days got by me so quickly. All I know is that the Monday Wash was back in my court in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

What a lot of work. I was up late into the night yesterday handwashing the "Gentle Cycle Only" items. Between sick days and holiday weekends, this is the first time since I took on these missions that I've had both the washing and ironing to do along with two full days at work. No wonder it's feeling like a ton of bricks! Nevertheless, I know the weeks are just going to get more and more rigorous, and I don't want to wear myself to the point of exhaustion every Monday handwashing stuff that could be washed just as nicely in a machine. I'll never have enough "Gentle Cycle Only" clothes in a single week to make up a full load, but what's stopping me from washing similar-colored items in a gentle cycle instead of a regular cycle? It's not like the rest of my clothes are so grimy and greasy that they couldn't relax in the gentle cycle from time to time. I'll still have some handwashing to do, but this should cut down on that a little. I still have to put some thought into sorting my laundry on Sunday nights. Should I bleach my whites this week? Do I need to get creative to put a gentle cycle load together? Which items need to be pulled before going into the dryer? Do I have enough quarters?

Tonight: the ironing. It's one big load of cottons and cotton blends this week. American Idol is just starting - the Major Bowes' Original Amateur Hour of the 21st century - so that should keep me entertained... Here are some of the Top Ten Tips I still need to work into my technique:

2. When you straighten material on the ironing board or roll of a rotary ironer, use the palms of your hands and smooth from the center out. Your fingers are apt to stretch the fabrics and pull them out of shape.

3. Iron with straight strokes, with the thread of the fabric.

5. Collars, cuffs, sleeves, belts and trimmings are ironed first, then the flat sections of the garment.

10. Do not use too hot an iron or shoe. Most hand irons are thermostatically controlled. Ironers are also equipped with thermostatic controls so that you can select the proper heat for the fabric... Combinations of fibers - adjust heat to fiber needing lowest temperature.

Oh, yes. My breakfast menu this morning included something I haven't had since I was a kid:

Orange Juice

Scrambled Eggs

Toast

Marmalade

It's been years since I tried Marmalade. (There's something about candied citrus peel that's never appealed to me.) It was okay. A very orange-y breakfast, too. It's not every day that your juice and marmalade coordinate so nicely!

I Came, I Saw, I Broiled

I haven't felt so intimidated in a long time as I did when I turned the page of my cookbook and found this menu looking back at me:

Broiled Grapefruit
Omelet
Graham Biscuit (I substituted the last of my Baking Powder Biscuits.)

Broiled Grapefruit? I've never broiled anything - and wasn't even sure where the broiler was! The word is right there on the controls for my oven. I can set it to "Bake" or "Broil," and just above the 500-degree mark on the temperature control is the word "Broil." But using it? Feels a bit like not stopping for gas when the gauge hits "E." And I wasn't sure whether it was located underneath the oven chamber - you know that drawer where some people store their pots and pans - or whether the broiler was actually the heating element inside my oven at the top of the chamber. Would there be flames spitting out somewhere? Did I need special cookware?

Oddly enough, there wasn't even a recipe for Broiled Grapefruit inside the cookbook which recommended it in the first place. So I had to look about online to see if anybody out there was broiling citrus fruit. Sure enough, I found people chatting about it on a few cookery sites. I also found a tip about broilers that steered me in the right direction. If you have a gas stove, the broiler is usually underneath the oven chamber. If you have an electric stove (like mine), the broiler is usually inside the chamber.

Because the homegrown grapefruits I received the other day had so much pith, I decided to pick up a grapefruit at the store. Setting aside half for tomorrow, I loosened each of the sections, then sprinkled brown sugar and cinnamon on top with a dab of margarine. I set the oven rack in the topmost position and checked to be sure the grapefruit would still be about four inches below the broiling unit. Then tentatively started "preheating" the broiler by turning the oven up to 400 degrees - then to 450 -- then 500. The Omelet was finished by this point, so it was do or die. With an imaginary dash of salt over my shoulder and a note to self that I'd enjoyed my brief life even if it was about to come to a flaming end, I turned both knobs to "Broil." A few minutes later, the element at the top of my oven was red hot, so I slid the pan in underneath and counted the minutes. Just three.

The grapefruit was still in one piece when I pulled it out. The topping had melted right into the fruit. Most of it, anyway. The rest was a sticky, burnt mess in the pan (which should have been lined with aluminum foil). After letting it cool for several minutes, I tried a piece. It was okay. Nothing to write home about. The cinnamon really overpowers the taste of the grapefruit. I guess that'd be alright if you didn't like grapefruit, but I do. And I prefer it fresh and chilled. I can see how Broiled Grapefruit might have been considered a fancier way of serving citrus for breakfast during the '40s. If you had houseguests or were planning a holiday breakfast, it'd really dress up the table. If I try it again tomorrow morning I'll use a little less cinnamon - and a lot more aluminum foil.

Can't believe I lived to tell about it... I'm feeling all kinds of bravado this afternoon over conquering my fears!

Thrift 1 / Curiosity 0

Yipes! I realized this morning that I haven't blogged about my breakfasts in a couple days. Lest you think the Fried Mush incident scared me out of the kitchen for good, I'll get caught up now. My tastebuds did recover. Tuesday's menu:

Orange Slices

Scrambled Eggs and Toast

Coffee

Nothing wrong with a meal like that one. Here's the menu for today:

Applesauce

Graham Muffins

Hard-cooked Egg

I substituted some of my Graham Muffins - they've been in the freezer since last week - for the Oatmeal Gems that were actually on today's menu. I was curious as can be to try the new recipe, but thrift won out and I decided to eat up some of my leftovers instead. As far as I can tell, the Oatmeal Gems are a biscuity type of muffin with oats sprinkled inside. I haven't noticed any differences in these menus at the front of my cookbook except that there are more baked goods in these menus. Which makes sense. The author is trying to interest her readers in some of her recipes. The very next menu features a whole new recipe altogether! I think I'll stick with today's menu one more time and try to free up some space in the freezer.

Once I've finished experimenting with this first run through the menus, I'm going to revisit that "reducing" plan I found in a '40s magazine. I'll save the baked goods for an occasional treat - once a month instead of once a week! - and take up those vintage serving sizes more rigorously. It'd be loverly if The Experiment had some benefits for my waistline, too!

Week's End

It's been more than a week now since I started my last mission, but I'm getting ready to start the next, so thought it'd be a good time for a little wrap up. First, the eats. This is the first of the menus in the front of the cookbook:

Orange Juice
Hard-cooked Egg
Graham Muffins

Have you ever worked with graham flour before? It's kind of a happy medium between wheat bran and your generic sack of flour. One of the side effects of these vintage breakfast menus is that my pantry is becoming quite well stocked with different varieties of flour. Regular, wheat bran, buckwheat, graham flour... Thank goodness there's a grocery store here in town that keeps a great selection of Bob's Red Mill in stock! I wanted to make sure the Graham Muffins didn't turn out as dry as the Corn-meal Muffins a few weeks ago, so I added an extra tablespoon of vegetable oil to the recipe. And it helped. They were much softer than the Corn-meal Muffins. I had no idea what they'd taste like - visions of Golden Grahams were dancing through my head - but they just tasted kinda wheaty.

It was a good breakfast. And wonder of wonders, I had everything ready for the table at the same time! That's the kind of magic only experience can help a housewife work. I had to crow about it when I got to work today. But my co-workers didn't get why it was so exciting. I think most of the people I've told about what I'm doing - at least the breakfast part - don't really understand why. Why would I bother baking on a weekday morning? Why not just eat a protein bar or a bowl of cold cereal? It's not like I have kids to make breakfast for. Or a husband to impress. It's as if they think the skills I'm trying to cultivate are outdated and unnecessary. We've moved past needing a hot, yummy, nutritious breakfast or something.

Obviously, I don't think that's the case. But what's kind of nice is hearing that contrast. It makes me realize why I feel so good sitting down to a swell breakfast or crawling into a bed that's neat as a pin at the end of the day. I feel like I'm treating myself like a queen. Which I deserve! I haven't done that in a long time. And there's something about making my home a palace that makes me feel awfully good. So it's not just pride at work here. I would love to have found Mr. Right and to be making a home for my husband and children, but if that's not in the cards... I need to make a home for myself.

Making my bed every morning has quickly become one of my favorite chores. It's so much easier with the bed moved out from the wall in my bedroom. There's instant payoff when you step back and admire everything tucked in just so and the pillows plumped. I can't wait to be able to invest in some bed linens and blankets, maybe a fantastic vintage chenille bedspread, new pillows. Even if they mean it'll take a little bit longer to make my bed! Bedmaking is especially nice when I'm not completely in a rush and running out the door.

It's been interesting to learn a little something new about laundry. Though the process today is so different, the manual has made me appreciate how arduous Wash Day was circa 1945. It was hard on the muscles (so little of the work was actually automated), rough on the hands, and used a ton of water. I'll bet women consciously planned easier menus for Monday evenings just to give themselves a little less work after a long day over the wash tubs. And socializing on Monday nights. Forget about it! It wouldn't have been possible unless you had one of those new fully-automated postwar washing machines. Or a maid. And if you were able to afford hired help one day a week, it'd be Mondays.

Menu Making

My breakfast menu this morning marks Day 30 in my cookbook's special feature, "How to Feed a Family of Five on $20.00 per Week." Let's see... according to a historical inflation calculator, $20 in 1945 would be the equivalent of about $230 today. That's a pretty decent weekly budget for groceries. Even for a family that size.

Sliced Bananas on
Shredded Cereal

Easy, yummy, and filling. It was so filling, in fact, that it made a small lunch feel just right. I like that. It's been a nice perk from eating breakfast again. I've found this is definitely not the case on the mornings my menu is built around Waffles, Griddlecakes, or French Toast.

Nearly half of the meals (43%) were built around some sort of cooked cereal. 27% of the menus were built around an egg dish. Baked goods were the main attraction for 20% of the menus, and cold cereal for the remaining 10%. I adapted most of the menus to leave out the third serving of carbs. This may have worked for a woman preparing breakfast for several people. She'd be able to enjoy a little serving of several different dishes. I'm cooking for one, so I've been adapting the menus a bit to make sure I don't end up with a fridge full of leftovers and some extra inches on the waistline. I'm also a vegetarian, so I've taken any meat dishes out of the menus. This didn't take much time. These were the war years, and only 20% of the menus even include meat.

So, here's the question: I'm trying to decide what to do next. There are 11 more breakfast menus in a chapter on "Menu Making" at the front of the cookbook. Presumably, these were menus designed for a housewife who didn't have to be as budget-conscious as the one with the $20 grocery bill. They'll probably be a little more elaborate. Fresher ingredients, maybe? I'm not sure. Should I pick up some of these ritzier menus? Or go back to Day 1 of the menus I've been using --- maybe drop some of the empty calorie days? (Despite her coupon clipper menus, even the author of the cookbook says "Doughnuts... jam, jelly, marmalade, and pancakes with sirup should be considered desserts... to be eaten only after more wholesome foods have been eaten.") Should I start working on some of the dinner menus. Maybe make a 1940s dinner once a week? What do you think???

Kitchen Chemistry

What simple luxury it is to make a bed which isn't wedged in against the wall! I was tickled pink to find yesterday's hard work paying off today, and boy does it make me want to buy some lovely vintage bedding. Just to show off my newly-acquired bedmaking skills. I put my ruler back to work this morning and carefully measured off 18 inches from the head of the bed to decide where to fold back the top sheet. My mom still makes beds the way the Good Housekeeping manual recommends: folding down the bedspread, laying the pillows on top of the upside-down portion of the bedspread, then rolling everything back into place. It makes that crease at the bottom of the pillows which looks so streamlined.

I knew this morning's menu was going to be a toughie, so I got started on the dough for the Yeast Cinnamon Rolls last night:

Sliced Orange
Hard-cooked Egg
Yeast Cinnamon Roll (from stored dough)
Coffee

My 1945 recipe only measures yeast in cakes. Fortunately, the packets of "dry yeast" I purchased had a conversion formula printed on the back. 3 packets = 1 cake of yeast. I can't remember the last time I made any kind of raised dough, so my kitchen felt like a chemistry lab as I set to work softening the yeast in warm water and scalding milk in a pan. This was at about 6:00 yesterday evening. By 6:20, the dough had been kneaded and set in a covered bowl in a warm-ish spot to rise. Two hours later - nothing. The dough was still the same size it had been when I placed it in the bowl. My heart sinking, I checked my cookbook for tips - nothing there except the suggestion that I had probably killed the yeast. So I looked around online and luckily came across a website with step-by-step instructions - and photos - on making a raised bread dough. At the very bottom of the screen was just what I had been hoping to find:

"Bread Problem Solving

1. What if it doesn't rise?
Your liquid was most likely either too hot or too cold and you've killed the yeast. Don't despair, this bread can still be saved! Dissolve 1 tablespoon yeast and 1 teaspoon of sugar in 1/2 cup very warm water (110°F). Mix in 1/2 cup all purpose flour. Let this mixture stand in a warm place for about 10 minutes. It will turn foamy and spongy. Beat this mixture into your un-risen dough then knead in enough flour to correct the consistency. Cover this dough and place it back in a warm place to rise. Proceed as normal."

http://www.fabulousfoods.com/index.php?option=com_resource&controller=article&article=19904&category_id=223&Itemid=&pagenum=1

Thank goodness. Whoever put this website together saved my dough! And this morning's breakfast. My "lab" looked like a hurricane had swept through it by the time I took the Cinnamon Rolls out of the oven at midnight, but at least I didn't have to throw away the ingredients. I can't imagine how a housewife during the war must have felt if her dough didn't rise - or "lighten," as the cookbook describes it. Throwing away rationed ingredients must have felt so unpatriotic. Then again, she'd probably have been working with yeast-raised dough since she was a teenager.

A Comedy of Errors

My housekeeping routine fell prey to a comedy of errors this morning - all of them mine, of course. I could blame it on my cold. (I am feeling a little foggy and disoriented.) But that wouldn't be entirely accurate...

Before I begin, here's yesterday's vintage breakfast menu:

Apple Juice

Cracked-wheat Cereal

I should mention that I added some raisins and brown sugar to the Wheatena. Normally, I try to stick quite literally to the menus, but Wheatena needs something extra just to be edible - and that magazine article did suggest adding dried fruits to make cooked cereals more tempting!

I knew that Corn-bread was on the menu this morning, so set my alarm 30 minutes early so I'd have time to do a little baking. 2 cups corn-meal, 3 tablespoons baking powder... Wait a second. Baking powder? Maybe it was too early to do any baking, because there wasn't any baking powder in that recipe - or even in any of the recipes on that page of the cookbook! I'm left facing a mixing bowl full of corn-meal covered with baking powder. The recipe actually calls for baking soda which I don't have in the house right now. It's been on my grocery list, but I must have been thinking I wouldn't need it for another few days. So I whip out my 1990s Betty Crocker cookbook. Nope. No emergency substitutes for baking soda. Can I find another vintage recipe for Corn-bread that calls for baking powder instead? I didn't have to look very far, but all this casting about definitely ate up the extra time I'd planned. I ended up using a recipe from a little booklet published by Clabber Girl, probably in the mid- to late 1930s. Conveniently enough, there's baking powder in every recipe.

Tomato Juice

Hard-cooked Egg

Corn-bread, Honey

The icing on the cake? Not a drop of Honey in the house. Turns out I tossed the last jar shortly after using it on my Griddlecakes a few weeks ago and then realizing it was expired.

The Corn-bread was very tasty with margarine - or should I say oleo - so breakfast turned out okay. By the time I'd finished, however, it was high time to be leaving and my bed was still unmade. On any other day, I'd have taken the few extra minutes to make my bed. But I needed to stop by a mailbox on the way to work. Badly. You can guess how that debate won out.

What a morning! Just a sample of the chaos my household used to run on - and had for ages. My kitchen, my wardrobe, my pocketbook... There's no way I'm going back to that place. Ever. My new routine may be a bit more work everyday, but it also brings a kind of serenity along with it that I've become accustomed to in a very short time.

A Taste of the Tropics

My 1945 breakfast menu this morning was a little more exotic than usual:

Pineapple Juice

Poached Free Range Eggs on

Whole-wheat Toast

I've never been a big fan of canned Pineapple Juice - there's something a little off about the flavor and it separates real quickly with a sediment sinking to the bottom of your glass. But, like tomato juice, it's a quintessential 1940s beverage. Canned and bottled juices were just beginning to be inexpensive enough for middle-class pocketbooks, and it was still an open playing field in the '40s as to which juices would reign supreme on the American breakfast table. We know how it turned out. Orange, apple, and grape juice became wildly popular, while grapefruit, pineapple, and tomato grew less so over the years. The only place I usually find pineapple juice today is in blended juices. Sixty years ago, though, it was anyone's guess...

Note to self: Be sure not to try and poach eggs in water that's boiling too hard. Exploding egg whites can be hard to clean up!

Jitterbug's Cooking School of the Web

Have you ever listened to a vintage recording of one of those cooking programs that used to be on the radio? Betty Crocker's Cooking School of the Air and the Pet Milk Program are a couple that come to mind... I want to share the recipe I used for Bran Bread last night, but I'm feeling a bit like Mary Lee Taylor, hostess of the Pet Milk Program, slowly reciting one of her recipes -they were always chock full of evaporated milk, of course! She'd read the recipe one phrase at a time, repeating each phrase twice, and you can just picture frantic housewives at home trying to get it all down on an index card in time. You can hear an episode dating to September 21, 1939 at this link (choose the mp3 for part 5):

http://www.archive.org/details/CompleteBroadcastDay

(By the by, the programs at the link above all date to a single day in 1939 when a radio station in Washington, DC recorded its entire broadcast day for the National Archives. If you want to have an idea of what a typical day of radio fare was like for a '40s housewife, this is an extraordinary record. There are some 18 hours of programs, so you'll have to divvy them up into several batches.)

*****
DATE BRAN BREAD
2 cups sifted flour
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups bran
2/3 cup sliced dates
1 egg
1 1/2 cups milk
2 tablespoons melted shortening

Sift flour with salt, sugar and baking powder. Stir in bran and dates. Beat egg and add milk and melted shortening. Add dry ingredients and mix only enough to dampen all the flour. Pour into greased molds, cover closely and steam 3 hours. Makes 3 loaves.
*****

I left out the dates entirely and it didn't seem to cause any problems in terms of consistency. I think the author meant for people to use either small molds or cans, as I used small loaf pans and only ended up with 2 loaves. As you can see, the directions when it comes to steaming are very slim...

This was one of those rare mornings when all the stars were aligned and my 1945 breakfast was absolutely scrumptious:

Grapefruit Half
Poached Free-Range Eggs
Toasted Bran Bread

The Bran Bread made wonderful toast. All buttery and hearty and just large enough to serve the poached eggs on top. And now that I've figured out how to pre-segment my grapefruit halves, I don't have to worry about juice stains on my tablecloth!

Are You Eating to Reduce?

"Reducing" was a popular term for dieting in the '40s, and the October 1945 issue of Good Housekeeping carried an article all about reducing: "No fads - no going hungry - this is a pleasant, adequate diet. If it's followed, steady, gradual loss in weight and improved health should result." How does the breakfast menu compare to the ones I've been using in the cookbook?

BREAKFAST
Fruit - Preferably 1/2 Grapefruit or 1 Orange
1 Boiled or Poached Egg on Thin Slice Toast
Or Medium Serving Cereal and
Glass of Skim Milk
400 I.U. Vitamin D

The experts of the day suggested that tea or coffee be taken only without cream or sugar. Dry toast could be made from white, rye, wheat, or whole wheat bread. And just in case this was a burning question, "toast has the same number of calories as untoasted bread."

Another article in a vintage magazine tells us that "wives," "younger children," and teenaged girls should eat a smaller serving of breakfast cereal than did husbands or teenaged boys. They should also be careful to partake in only one slice of dry toast, not two. The standard serving size for cereal was 2/3 cup, so presumably the reducers in the family should only have about 1/2 cup.

I wonder how much cereal I've been eating? Maybe I'll have to break out the measuring cup tomorrow...