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Sunday, October 21, 2012

Foreign Flair

I lived overseas for three years. It took me months to get used to real Italian food. My untrained American palate was used to what Americans like to pass off as Italian food. Eventually I did and I would sell my soul to eat another Margherita pizza from an authentic wood fired oven in Naples. During my time abroad, I visited France and Germany. My appreciation for French food was limited to Americanized restaurants and McDonalds. Yes, I was one of THOSE American tourists, but in my defense, I did not live in the USA at the time so McDonalds was pure delight. When I went to Germany, I found the food to be hearty and pretty good. It was an experience I will never forget. 

This book is probably not based per se on actual foreign food, but the idea of foreign food. In 1963, traveling overseas was the exception rather than the norm. I'm not going to bash 1963 too much. That was the year JFK was assassinated and there was a lot going on during the 1960s.

I will, however, have fun with the food. It's fair game.

Better Homes and Gardens Meals With a Foreign Flair 1963

Starting off with a Mexican flair. It doesn't really look different from what we eat today. The sauce on the tamales is probably more of a decoration for the purpose of making this look like like someone is going to want to eat it. Unless they ate the corn husk in 1963. That could be possible. What do I know?

Maybe in 1963, one could use a cookbook as a passport.
Red-and-white salad. Basically someone took the time to mold a tomato aspic and a snowy cheese mold, slice it, and alternate tomato gelatin chunks with cream cheese and cottage cheese gelatin chunks with a generous cup of mayonnaise in the center.  A pure and simple horror of horros.


Lots going on here. Celery sticks, a spread of Herring Salad, liver pate with chunks of aspic. All of it is protected by a trio of egg penguins. The eggs didn't ask to be turned into penguins. They were perfectly content not being reanimated.


A big chunk of ham. Slice only a few pieces. That should work out for everyone. As long as it doesn't touch the Vegetable Salad cups made from mayonnaise, asparagus, peas, and carrots. Total deal breaker. I'm beginning to see the world in dulled hues after going through this book.
A sparse and sadly decorated Edible Arrangement. I bet this doesn't cost a fortune. Who doesn't like hundred dollar cantaloupe or strawberries? 

That about sums up the description for the parrot.

Because if you don't have a statue of what the meat is, nobody is going to know what they are eating. They might get it confused with a pigeon or something. Good thing they have a wicker rooster to guide them.

I don't need an abacus to count the ways that this looks inedible. It looks red, shiny, and chunky.
Food-borne illness prevention is apparently not a priority. In keeping with my usual snark, I have a lot of words for this picture.
I had all of sorts of comebacks and quips about how green this sauce isn't and how it's probably not mighty tasty after all, and how this has faded into the annals of food obscurity. And then I did a quick Google image check. I was put in my place by spaghetti with green sauce. Mighty tasty at that.
Kringle. If there is anything I miss about living in Wisconsin, it's stuffing my face with Kringle. That soldier looks like it wants to maniacally use its sword to chop anything and everything.
This German Cherry Torte would almost look good if it didn't look like an anthill.
I'm pretty sure that I won't think I am in Stockholm when I taste those delightful pancakes. I don't quite have an authentic comparison, but I'm pretty sure I won't think I am teleported to Sweden. Just saying.

That was full of flair. Foreign flair. I feel like I just hopped all over the globe, back again, and didn't even get a magnet.

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