PSYCHE'S SALAD

Nothing much happens here in the winter. . . (Actually, we have plenty of plans in the works, but my policy is that it's better to say what you did than what you're going to do.) . . . so I thought I'd take a trip down “memory lane” with some nostalgic recipes.

My mother and Psyche sit on the porch.

I’m careful about buying recipe books because my bookcase overfloweth with them. Nevertheless, every year one or two more will squeeze onto the shelf. So far this year, I have already added two: America’s Best Lost Recipes (“121 kitchen-tested heirloom recipes too good to forget from the editors of Cook’s Country Magazine,” 2007) and The Time Reader’s Book of Recipes, selected by Florence Arfmann (1949). Both books present retro recipes.

America’s Best Lost Recipes provides a bit of history for each recipe as well as recommendations from the test kitchen. The first recipe to catch my eye was “24-Hour Salad.”

I remember the first time our family friend, Psyche Johnson, brought this wonderfully tangy fruit salad to a potluck picnic at the farm. She shared the recipe, which we called “Psyche’s Salad,” and thereafter we stirred it up often. Here’s Psyche’s recipe:

1 can fruit cocktail

1 can mandarin oranges

1 can crushed pineapple

1 lb. miniature marshmallows

Drain the fruit and mix. Let sit until dressing is made.

Dressing:

4 egg yolks or 2 eggs, slightly beaten

½ c sugar

Juice of one lemon

Dash salt

Cook dressing ingredients in double boiler until thickened. Cool. Add ½ pint whipped cream to the cooked mixture. (Or, as Psyche suggested, substitute “Dream Whip” for the whipped cream. Today we would probably use Cool Whip.)

Fold dressing into fruit mixture. Refrigerate at least 12 hours or overnight. (And Psyche added: “Do not freeze.”)

Psyche’s salad appears to be a variation of the recipe for “24-Hour Salad” in the cookbook. The recipe intro reads: “There is a tradition going back to the late 19^th century of fruit salad married with a sweet custard and frozen. Then, in the 1930s, we began to see all sorts of creamy fruit salads with marshmallows and cream or whipped cream . . .”

L-R: Psyche, Una, Harriet, Joni; Lolita on chaise.

This recipe is much the same as Psyche's, so I’ll spare you another list of ingredients. However, it calls for two cups frozen sour cherries, drained, instead of the fruit cocktail. The test kitchen staff comments: “The tart cherries really cut the sweetness of the custard.” They also add 1 cup of sliced almonds.

Another interesting comment: “We also tried substituting miniature marshmallows to avoid quartering large ones. Bad idea – the small marshmallows simply turned to mush. To make the prep work easier, we found that if we sprayed our chef’s knife with cooking spray, the marshmallows did not cling to the blade (and were less likely to stick together).” I never realized that mini-marshmallows were different from the large ones in texture.

This is really a dessert salad, and while I love it, my family didn’t seem to, so I haven’t made it in years. Still, if I were asked to list my favorite all-time recipes, I would place it near the top. KW

[The photos were taken in July 1961. Top photo: My mother Dorothy Dobson and Psyche Johnson sit on the porch. Psyche's husband Wayne is far left. Around the table: L.J. Reece, our friend Cynthia, Polly Profitt, Papa (C. O. Portfors) . . . and then I'm not sure about those kids, but I'm on the edge of the cot and Becky Reece sits in chair. Second photo (l-r): Psyche Johnson, Una Evetts, Harriet Walrath Reece, and Joni Walrath Nunan. Lolita Kalbfleisch lounges on chaise.]

BEAUTIFUL VINTAGE SNOWY TREES

Christmas, 1920. Sand box & bushes on south side of new hen house (left).

During the winter, Mike and I try to take care of pending matters. One of those was our need for a new printer/scanner/copier. Our old Dell printer, purchased 10 years ago, was broken and wouldn’t print. I could still scan with it but it was useless as a copier. So, yesterday we bought an HP 5470 wireless printer. Naturally, it’s also a scanner/copier, which I need for “my work.”

Old "sarvice" bush & water cart

Road in Fir Gulch, December 1922

At first I was pretty frustrated trying to set it up the printer, but something happened (I don’t know what) and suddenly we were connected and in business. Today, from the comfort of the love seat in the living room, I pressed print, and in Mike’s office the printer obeyed my command. Then I scanned the photos you see on this post to a thumb drive and transferred immediately to my laptop. The possibilities seem endless.

They made cards out of this picture.

Well, to continue my blog prompt – I seek to discover my dad’s family however I can because I want to know about their experience on the family farm. What did it mean to them to have their own place? Were they happy there? Did they rush to the window when the stubble field reflected the red of the setting sun? Did they think the trees were beautiful when their branches were heavy with snow? These are things I wish I had asked my dad – or his siblings – but they were gone before I had a chance to formulate my questions.

See the cows? See the man? (December 1922)

We’re lucky to have correspondence and pictures. Often the pictures reveal the answers. Hallie remarked on a previous post that the trees are beautiful when it snows. Did Grandma Ina think they were beautiful, I wondered. So I went to my photo box and pulled out as many snowy tree pictures as I could find.

1936

Sometimes a picture yields a big surprise when I see the enlarged scan, the photo above being an example. I hadn't noticed the cow -- or the man standing there until I saw the scan on my computer screen. Though I can't say for sure, I suppose the man is my grandfather, Jack Dobson.

These last pictures show the old house which sat in the lower yard until 1971 when my dad razed it. It was picturesque, though, and sometimes I miss it. You can see that back in the day we had many more trees. KW

LEARNING TO COOK

When I was old enough to read on my own, Aunt Shirley, my dad’s younger sister, sent me the Fun to Cook Book for Christmas. Copyrighted in 1955 by the Carnation Company, it was written as a basic kitchen/recipe guide for little girls. The idea behind it reminds me of today’s American Girl books – the “you-can-do-it” attitude.

If that little book appealed to me (and it did), it did not appeal to my mother. I’m just guessing, but perhaps she didn’t like the promotion of Carnation Evaporated Milk, which she seldom used. Or, it may have been a control issue. The little girl in the book was encouraged to take charge in the kitchen, and my mother wasn’t about to let that happen. For one thing, ruining food was costly and to be avoided, and perhaps Mother felt the risk was great. And I don’t think she wanted the Carnation Company suggesting recipes to her daughter. She liked her method of making white sauce, macaroni and cheese, etc. Whatever, I imagine I’m giving more thought to Mother’s lack of interest than she ever did.

Mother knew, though, that she wasn’t allowing me to cook as I grew up. Occasionally she would say as much. And when decent food began to come out of my own kitchen, she would say, “It’s amazing you can cook because we didn’t teach you.” Well, she taught me more than she realized. She just didn’t allow me to practice. (The exception would be baking. I made cookies and cakes but not pies. Pies were her specialty.)

So, I wasn’t allowed to use the little cook book, but I read it from time to time, and I feel nostalgic about it. Copies of it, now long out of print, may be purchased through Amazon (here) and other online sellers. Reviewers (people of my age, of course) also feel nostalgic about it. One of them mentioned that she still makes fudge using the Carnation recipe, which appears in the little book. Let’s look at it.

5 Minute Fudge (makes 2 pounds)

2/3 cup undiluted Carnation Evaporated Milk

1 2/3 cup sugar

1 ½ cups (about 16 medium) diced marshmallows

½ cup chopped nuts

1 ½ cups semi-sweet chocolate pieces

1 teaspoon vanilla

1)   Put Carnation and sugar in large saucepan, and put on stove. Turn burner to low. Heat to boiling.

2)   Cook 5 minutes, stirring all the time so that milk and sugar do not scorch. [You should probably stir this mixture in step 1 as well.]

3)   Remove saucepan from heat. Add marshmallows, chopped nuts, chocolate and vanilla.

4)   Stir fudge with a wooden spoon until marshmallows and chocolate are melted. (About 1 minute.)

5)   Pour fudge into a buttered 8” square pan. When the fudge is cool, cut into squares.

Checking online for updates (here), I found a few modifications:

Add 2 tablespoons butter and ½ teaspoon salt to the milk and sugar.

Use two cups miniature marshmallows instead of dicing large ones.

I couldn't find a good history of the Carnation Company, which has “changed hands” several times since the '70s. KW

VINTAGE CHRISTMAS CARDS

Longtime readers may remember that I had in my possession a collection of Christmas cards that my dad received in 1946.

“Had?” you ask. “Past tense?”

Unfortunately, yes. This is the first I’ve written about the loss of these cards, which happened about five years ago.

Why my dad kept those cards, I don’t know. I had toyed with tossing them for years. About 1990, an antique dealer told me they had no value but suggested that since they had been saved for 45 years, I might just as well continue to save them. I did, and twenty years later, as I took more interest in mid-century ephemera, I finally saw them as wonderful. I carried them from the farmhouse to town so that I could scan them. I then posted the images on this blog and have continued to draw from that folder to illustrate holiday posts.

After Christmas, I put the two boxes of cards in a crate of items to go back to the farm. The crate was in the way in the house, so I took it to the garage and set it near the pick-up, which is also where we keep the recycling.

“Bad idea to leave it here,” the inner voice said, but it was cold and I was in a hurry. I left it there -- and forgot all about it.

A week later Mike announced he had loaded the recycling and was heading out to the bins. I had a vague feeling that I should be concerned about something. “Go look at the stuff,” said the inner voice, but I ignored it. After all, Mike knows recycling when he sees it, right?

Some days afterward, I saw that the crate designated for the farm was empty and knew that the contents had gone to recycling. At first I couldn’t remember what all had been in it, but eventually I thought about the cards. I was heartsick – and angry. Discussion ensued, but I was angriest with myself. I had been careless about preserving something I treasured and had then failed to follow my intuition.

I know. In the scheme of things this was a small loss, especially when I nearly tossed them years ago. It took a while for me to see that those particular cards were special only because it was fun to see familiar names and the nice messages they wrote to my dad, but the scanned images, used over and over, were becoming stale. So, I decided if I enjoy sharing these old-fashioned images as part of my Christmas, why not buy some? Vintage cards can be found on Etsy, for instance. I’ve already made a start to expand my collection.

“Things happen, Mom,” said son Clint. (The cards were tossed.)

“Stuff’s out there,” said daughter Hallie. (You can find most anything online.) KW

[The photos here were taken at the farm during our holiday stay.]