Bob Hope's Favorite Star Kist Tuna Dish

1959 and Bob Hope is a spokesperson for Star Kist Tuna? Huh, didn't figure that one. I mean ham, yes, but tuna?

Regardless, there apparently was an entire series of star's favorite Star Kist tuna recipes including Macaroni Loaf.

You know, if there's one thing you don't want in a loaf it's tuna. If there's another  thing you don't want in a loaf is macaroni. So a loaf that's both tuna and macaroni, well...

Still, if you're interested in giving it a try, well the recipe's enlarged below.

Happy National French Toast Day!

I'm pretty sure some of the observances I find really only exist on the internet. I mean, National French Toast Day? Sure, I like French toast, but should it have its own day? I guess, if you're a toast-head and feel strongly enough to march on the Bastille for your right to soak bread in milk and eggs, we'll today is your day.

What's potentially the first ever recipe for French toast actually appeared in the Roman collection of recipes. Apicius. Searching You can find a 2009 translation of the work on Project Gutenberg and within its digital pages you'll find a recipe for Aliter Dulcia which loosely translates to "otherwise sweet" (at least to the best I can determine). If you're interested in cooking a 5th century version of French Toast, here's how:

Break (slice) fine white bread, crust removed, into rather large pieces which soak in milk (and beaten eggs). Fry in oil. Cover with honey and serve.

Like most early recipes, this one is short on methods and measurements. There's no micromanaging the amount of time you soak the bread, no instructions on how thick to slice the bread, nothing saying you should only use artisan oil crushed from the pits of olives from a mysterious village in Southern Umbria. We've been a culture of perfect, of Martha Stewart judgmentalism, where nothing's worth doing if it's not nearly flipping impossible and worthy of Instragram bragging rights. Anyway, if you want a more modern recipe, check out this one from the French Cook Book for American Families, by Xavier Raskin, published in 1922:

Happy National Barbecue Month

Ah, the month of May when the minds of all native Hoosiers turn to warmer weather, planting time, outdoor activities, and the opening of the Speedway. And with the roar of race cars will come the lovely fragrance of victuals sizzling over hot coals. Yes, May is National Barbecue Month, a time to contemplate that ancient sport of burning meat over some sort of open fire.

A couple of years ago I went in for a nice gas grill so that I could start smoking pulled pork on the deck. I know, I already hear the cries of blasphemy from the hot coal and smoker contingents, but give me a break I'm only a part time plein air chef! It's hard enough to find time to fire up the gas grill, let alone stoke up a smoker or spend a few hours tending hardwood charcoal. I do spend 8 or more hours minding my pulled pork and keeping the hickory chips in the smoke-box from bursting into flame. I figure that's good for an amateur.

Back when I started my quest for good, homemade pulled pork, I think I promised I'd report on the recipe I developed and (after two years of trial and error) I've come up with my personal recipe. The following recipe comes from a base I found online that I tuned up to match my preferences. I recommend that you look through what's available out there (and there's a lot of variations) and then make changes to suit your taste. The important point is that there is no one "right" way to do this thing. Pulled pork is a food of poverty, therefore one that is meant to take advantage of whatever spices and herbs the chef has on hand.

1T Garlic Powder
1T Onion Powder
1T Chili Powder
2T Cayenne Pepper
1T Kosher Salt
1T Ground Black Pepper
1T Paprika
.5C Dark Brown Sugar

You can probably tell that I like sweet-hot barbecue from the ingredient list! Put your dry ingredients in a zip-lock bag, zip it up, and shake well to mix. Then sprinkle your pork butt liberally on all sides, massaging the spices into the meat. I put the whole thing in a sealed container and let it sit in the fridge over night before beginning cooking.

Whether you smoke the pork (preferred) or cook it in an oven, the key is low and slow. You will want a temperature of 225°F and use a probe thermometer to check the internal temperature of the meat. When you hit 200°F in the center of the roast you're done. Remove the roast from the heat, cover with foil, and let it rest a couple of hours before getting to shredding.

My current favorite way to eat pulled pork is to imitate a dish from Squealers, one of my favorite Indy BBQ joints (pay the west side location a visit, they're the best). Pulled pork nachos! This year I think I'll start working on making my own BBQ sauce to see what I can come up with. As always, I'll (eventually) give you a report!

Mint Julep Time

Hope you're having a great Derby day and to help, here's a little recipe for the drink of the run for the roses - the mint julep. Now, I'll qualify this entry by saying I'm not a julep fan so I can't attest to whether this clipping makes a drink worth watering the horses with.

What I can say is that it comes from the July 1942 issue of Boating Magazine and (as you can see) is attributed to Holland-America ship line. Doesn't sound too southern to me.

Like many alcoholic beverages, it's virtually impossible to track down the origin of the mint julep. What can say is that it probably started as a medicinal treatment and cases can be sited where it was prescribed as a treatment for nausea and vomiting. Londoner John Davis described the mint julep in print in an 1803 publication as "a dram of spirituous liquor that has mint steeped in it, taken by Virginians in the morning..."

Bird's Eye Frozen Vegetables

Here's another item that'll be familiar to those of us who spend a little time in the frozen food aisle at the local supermarket. Bird's Eye frozen foods was created in 1923 by Clarence Birdseye.General Foods bought out Birdseye's patents for flash-freezing foods in 1929 for $22 million, an amazing sum for that era.

When you read the recipe for Emerald Isle, it doesn't sound nearly as bad as it looks. This ad comes from 1946, so we're entering that weird era of food photography here. I'm not sure if it's the lighting or film or the translation from print to digital, but any food photographed in the 40's or 50's looks hideous. The brilliant humorist and newspaper man, James Lileks, has several wonderful books of hideous foods including his Gallery of Regrettable Foods which I highly recommend if you really want to plumb bad foods. This particular dish has a Lovecraft-ian look to it, all goggling eyes, seeping ichor, and waggling tentacles.

The last thing that struck me was the box shown in the lower right. Is it really supposed to contain fruits, vegetables, poultry, meats, and seafood? I haven't seen this Bird's Eye variety in my freezer section, and I'm kind of glad.

National Irish Coffee Day

If you went by the crowd-sourced genius volume of all-things-true known as Wikipedia, you'd believe that the first Irish coffee was "...conceived after a group of American passengers disembarked from Pan Am flying boat on a miserable winter evening in the 1940's." I'll admit that Wiki's answer is pretty, it has a lovely feel and I'd love to believe that some wry, Irish character tailored the first Irish coffee out of kindness and inspiration, but for me the doesn't pass the smell test.

The problem I have is that it's easy to find similar drinks made with other alcohols which are much older than the proposed birthday of the Irish coffee. For an example, in 1888 a bar tending book called the New and Improved Illustrated Bartender's Manual printed the following recipe:

At it's root, Soldier's Camping Punch represents the theme of all coffee drinks. It features strong, sweet coffee mixed with high-proof liquor. In the case of the punch the two liquors involved are rum and brandy, but it it's hardly a stretch to imagine a barkeep or host substituting whatever high-proof liquor of modest vintage was at hand. Sure, the fabled Joe Sheridan may have been the first to record the recipe, but the inspiration surely came from one of a slew of existing bar tender's favorites.

Regardless, Happy Irish Coffee Day. Pour yourself a strong one, drink to good ole' Joe, and watch the snowflakes fly. It's good to be warm inside and out.

The Christmas Pudding

If you've taken a little time to browse this blog, you'll know I have a fascination with the past. Whether it's old cars, advertising from the 30's, the music of the 20's, or the comics of the early 1900's, I'm fond of all things forgotten. So, it probably isn't surprising that I found a somewhat forgotten Christmas day tradition to write about today. What is that tradition, you ask? It's the dinner table cannon ball, the desert bowling ball, the Christmas pudding.

Many believe the recipe for the Christmas (plum) pudding can be traced back to medieval England, but the first recipes appear in 17th century publications. The ancestors of the plum pudding may be older, going back to savory puddings such as those found in the Harleian Collection  of manuscripts found in the British Library. In the 1400's a method for preserving meat in a pastry casing with dried fruits in the form of pies became popular and these mince pies became popular dishes for the festive season.  The chief ancestor of the modern pudding, though, goes all the way back to the pottage of Roman times. Pottage was slow cooked in a large pot and by the 15th century plum pottage, a stew of vegetables and fruit, had become a common first course. While this is all well and good, what about the holiday treat Dickens' Tiny Tim heard singing in the copper? Well, it wouldn't come into being until the Victorian era.

Over time the savory elements of mince pies and pottage were scaled back and an emphasis was placed on sweet fruits and though mince pies still exist to this day, pottage eventually became largely known as plum pudding. In 1747 East Sussex cook Eliza Acton recorded the first recipe for Christmas Pudding in a cookbook and by the 1830's the holly-topped ball of flour, fruits, suet, and spices appeared on holiday tables. I did some digging and came up with the following 1837 recipe for Christmas Pudding from a book with the catchy title of A Housekeeper's Book: Comprising Advice on the Conduct of Household Affairs in General by Frances Harriet Green. Enjoy!

Bourbon-Glazed Turkey

If you've read my blog, you’ll know that I've always had a love of cooking. This culinary affair has led to a relationship with the holidays that ranges somewhere between love and absolute frustration. Like it or not, every American cook has been brought up to believe that their holiday meals should offer up the bounty of the land, sea, and air (or at least the corresponding aisles of the supermarket); surpass the top restaurants on the Michelin list for taste; and look better than a spread in Martha Stewart’s magazine.

Aside from the year I set the centerpiece on fire, I've had a pretty good track record, but the thought of cooking a twenty five pound bird is always a little daunting. So, I figured instead of my usual magazine captures of the meals of the 30’s and 40’s I would share what I consider to be the ultimate recipe for Thanksgiving turkey. This bird comes out with a crispy, sweet glazed skin and moist meat and it goes great with just about anything.

Bourbon-Glazed Turkey

2C Butter at Room Temperature (divided)

1T Poultry Seasoning

½C Light Brown Sugar

½C Honey

½C Apple Cider

½C Wild Turkey Bourbon

Salt and Black Pepper to taste

Take half of the butter and combine with poultry seasoning until well mixed. Carefully separate the turkey’s skin from the breast meat and rub liberally with the butter/poultry seasoning mix. Salt and pepper the turkey, including inside the cavity, and place in your preheated oven.

While your turkey is baking, go ahead and prepare the glaze. Melt the butter over medium heat in a heavy, 1 to 2 quart pot. When the butter begins to foam, add the brown sugar and honey and stir until the sugar is melted and the mixture resembles syrup. Remove the pot from the flame and add cider and bourbon (failure to do so can result in a flare-up, loss of eyebrows, and a heck of a story to tell the firemen). Return the pot to the burner and heat while stirring until the glaze just begins to boil, then remove from the heat and allow the glaze to cool.

Around fifteen minutes before the turkey is done, brush with half the glaze. When the turkey is done, remove it from the oven and brush on the remaining glaze. Let cool fifteen to twenty five minutes before carving.

The Funnies - The Marshmallow Nut Kind