Le Bon Mot

Because recipes are written in the imperative, they can often sound unconsciously droll, particularly as food is often described using words that have a different, though similar, non-food meaning. And so as we peruse recipes, we sometimes see sentences like "Choose round lettuces with good hearts" (Hilda Leyel, Picnics for Motorists, 1936) and my favorite line from a recipe for the confection, Sonhos, or Dreams, in Brazilian Cookery (Margarette de Andrade, 1965), "Yields approximately 30 small-size Dreams."

Then there is the pithy assertiveness of promotional recipe booklets. Like the declarative,

and the gentle assurance and authority that persuades,

Because these recipe booklets were often produced to educate the consumer on a new or recent food innovation, they often describe food with words that seem odd.  "The Useful Marshmallow" was printed circa 1925 with this purpose in mind, although marshmallows had been available since the late 19th century.  "Useful" is not one of the first adjectives that comes to mind in connection with marshmallows.  But the Royal Marshmallow brand was of course trying to convey the idea that marshmallows could be used in a variety of food preparations.

The first page then proclaims, "Their Texture and Flavor Are Fascinating," and although marshmallows do have a unique consistency, I wouldn't say I'm fascinated by it.  Of all the adjectives used to describe the taste of food, "fascinating" is probably one of the least common.  Then again, if we consider the meaning as derivative from the Latin fascinare, to enchant, or fascinum, as in a spell or witchcraft, we might agree that food often does have the power—especially when it is novel or tied to memory—to bewitch.

Banana Economics, or How to Peel a Banana

As commercial printing became more affordable and widespread in the late 19th century, food companies in the United States increasingly published promotional material designed to educate the consumer about new foods, production and preparation methods, and brands.  With commodities such as milk and fruit, these booklets were often published by a central source that represented a number of smaller companies, thereby linking up regional distribution centers and presenting a uniform image of the product that could be disseminated across the country.  Such booklets assumed limited knowledge on the part of the consumer and provided basic information such as how to determine a fruit's ripeness, as well as scientific attestations to health benefits.

Booklets were typically authored by women affiliated with the company's home economics department.  In the vein of ladies' domestic manuals of the 19th century, these booklets transmitted ideas about the science of nutrition (presented as a male domain) to an assumed female consumer charged with preparing family meals.  A Study of the Banana: Its Everyday Use and Food Value (1942, 5th ed.) is one such example, produced by the Home Economics Department of the Fruit Dispatch Company, Distributors of United Fruit Company.  Although no single author's name is given, a first edition copy of the same title is credited to Ina S. Lindman, who was director of United Fruit Company's home economics department until the 1950s.

It can be interesting to contrast the information presented in such booklets with current renderings of the same food item.  For instance, if one compares the nutritional facts stated in the booklet with the current data listed on the USDA's and the Chiquita Banana website, it appears that today's vitamin and mineral levels are significantly lower.  Perhaps the data are computed differently today, but if the numbers published in 1942 are correct, then for every 100g of raw banana, there has been a decrease in iron (about half), magnesium (4 mg), phosphorous (4 mg), and potassium (15 mg).  Oddly the booklet lists 42.0 mg of sodium, which is grossly out of proportion with today's 1.0 mg, suggesting a misprint.  I wonder if the other editions show the same figure.

In branding a Latin American food crop under one North American corporate entity, United Fruit Company exerted an imperialist influence with political, environmental, and social repercussions.  Through material such as booklets, food corporations tacitly reinforced a distinction between those who produce and those who consume.  Here, it is clear that the booklet speaks to white American consumers of all ages, as illustrated in the photographs below.
  

This 1942 edition is illustrated with a jolly though rather generic anthropomorphic banana.  Two years later the United Fruit Company adopted the feminized Chiquita banana logo, based on the entertainer, Carmen Miranda, further commodifying indigenous culture and entrenching notions of exoticism.

Further Reading:

Enloe, Cynthia. 2000. Bananas, Beaches and Bases: Making Feminist Sense of International Politics. University of California Press.

Goldstein, Carolyn. 2012. Creating Consumers: Home Economists in Twentieth-Century America. University of North Carolina Press.

Kirchner Collection Blog

The Cream Top Milk Separator

The Cream Top separator, a humble metal ladle, was designed for the purpose of separating cream from milk in a particular type of milk bottle. Before homogenized milk became widespread in the late 1940s, milk bottles typically featured a top layer of cream-- the fat that naturally rises to the milk's surface.  Cream Top bottles featured a bulge at the cream line where the ladle could rest.  The end of the ladle doubled as a bottle opener and hooked on to the bottle's rim, allowing one to tip over the bottle and pour out the cream using only one hand.

"Something More Than Just a Bottle of Milk"

During the first half of the 20th century in the United States, milk industry practices and the consumption of milk became increasingly standardized by the federal government.  After a century of  milk contamination scandals, measures such as the requirement of pasteurization and the institution of federal milk programs in schools sought to instill public trust in milk as a safe, nutritious food and thus increase consumption of domestic commodities. In early 20th century advertisements, milk is consistently billed as a pure, simple source of nutrition, yet each manufacturer emphasizes a quality that makes theirs different.  See my posts on Selling Milk Between the Wars, Parts I and II. With the Cream Top Corporation, it was the efficiency of their specially designed bottle and the quality of the cream ("so thick it whips instantly"), targeting 1930s housewives in charge of family meal planning.

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, March 1, 1940.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, March 1, 1940.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, June 1, 1935.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

"Luxury Without Extravagance"
During the Great Depression, Cream Top advertised the idea of cream as an economical luxury.  The recipe booklet below encourages home cooks to use cream in every meal, thereby adding an element of luxury to even the sparest of ingredients: "[cream] adds interest and flavor to soups, salads and even meat courses.  It often transforms left-overs into royal dishes as if by magic...yet it's so simple to use.  Without fuss or bother, you can quickly 'make' whipped cream."  As milk bottles were gradually replaced with paper cartons in the 1940s, the Cream Top bottle faded away.

Like the advertisements above, this 24-page booklet is associated with the magazine, Good Housekeeping.
Here, the recipes have been "tested, tasted and approved by the Good Housekeeping Institute.  Booklet circa 1930s
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Click here for a recipe from the booklet.

More on milk from the archives:
PET Milk and the Business of Feeding Babies
Selling Milk Between the Wars, Parts I and II

Culinary Ephemera: New York's One and Only President

From the humble Automat to the grand Delmonico's, many well-known New York restaurants and eateries have been remembered by history.  But there are still more stories to tell of others that have surpassed the brevity of the average New York restaurant's lifespan.  The President was one such place, lasting for over 40 years at the same location in midtown Manhattan.

President Restaurant Menu circa 1963-69. The cover reads, "Since 1788 the United States of America have had 35 presidents. Since 1930 the City of New York has had only one!" and "We are honored by your presence with us for Luncheon and wish You a Good Appetite! Yr. Obt. Svt., The President."

President Tavern menu, dated August 3, 1944.  New York Public Library. This menu can be studied via the NYPL's excellent digital menu platform, "What's on the Menu?" Click on any of the dishes listed in the menu to find books and ephemera from the NYPL and other online repositories that mention the dish, as well as restaurants that currently list the dish on their menu. 

In 1930 Charles Munves and Samuel Agran opened The President in a brand new building at 370 Lexington Avenue at 41st St.  A year later they leased the space and basement next door as well.  The picture below shows the two storefronts as they are today, occupied by a Cafe Metro and a Dunkin Donuts.  The President Tavern was located where Dunkin Donuts is now and the Cafeteria was on the corner, the two units divided by the building's front entrance.  The spaces were remodeled several times and at some point in the 1950s the name was changed from The President Tavern and Cafeteria to The President Restaurant (keeping the two distinct dining areas), as it remained until it finally closed in 1972.

370 Lexington Ave., New York, at the corner of 41st St., once home of The President Tavern and Cafeteria. Photo 2012.

Charles Munves was born in 1895 in Minsk, then part of Russia, and later emigrated to New York City.  Agran, previously affiliated with New York's Monroe Cafeteria, was also a Russian émigré, born in 1897, and joined the United States Merchant Marines after coming to the United States.  Munves was thus 35 and Agran 33 when the two jointly opened the restaurant.  They both remained active in the business, even after their sons, Gene Munves and Michael Agran, joined the enterprise in the 1950s.  After the elder Munves and Agran retired, Gene and Michael remained as joint proprietors until the establishment closed, ending a remarkable 42 year run.  The President's early years were at a time of economic instability-- the Great Depression had recently blighted the United States, and in New York, frequent restaurant workers' uprisings culminated with infamous corruption scandals between local gangsters and the leaders of the restaurant workers' union.

President Tavern and Cafeteria Postcard circa 1940. 

Some of the most enduring restaurants profit from cultivating a loyal clientele, coalesced from within a city's tacit divisions of race, class, and gender.  The President Cafeteria/Restaurant served a niche lunch group of white middle-class professional men working in the midtown area near Grand Central Station, much like Schrafft's and Longchamps catered to white middle-class "ladies-who-lunch."  Serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner and open until 1a.m., the cafeteria advertised self-service hot meals "at reasonable prices" in a relaxed, casual environment.  The self-proclaimed largest restaurant in the Grand Central Zone, The President was a reliable staple of the Murray Hill neighborhood and was a regular haunt of soon to be luminaries such as the writer Charles Reznikoff, the cartoonist Harry Hershfield, and the aspiring actress Susan Hayward.  The Tavern section, decorated with wood paneling, mirrors, and white tablecloths, had a cocktail lounge and dining room with waiter service and was the more refined option, advertising "The finest wines and liquor" and "Where eating is a pleasure."  With its comfortable atmosphere and private dining facility, it was a popular meeting place for clubs, fraternities, and societies.  By offering two levels of dining in one trusted establishment, the President was able to appeal to a broader cross section of the public.   

The President had a relationship with the neighborhood it served.  As Linda Agran, widow of the late Michael Agran recalls, "During the 1965 blackout the restaurant remained open and served, free of charge, all food that did not require cooking.  When the food ran out they remained open so that stranded commuters had a place to wait until the power returned.  Michael and Gene used candles (donated by the local churches), cooking oil, just about anything that would create some light.  When Michael returned to our home in Rye Brook late the following morning he was covered with soot from the cooking oil lights but so happy that they had helped so many people get through that confusing night."

Reservation form from The President Restaurant, ca. late 1960s.  Note that parties could choose a presidential suite, the main dining room, the cocktail lounge, or the sportsman corner. {Click to enlarge}

370 Lexington Ave., New York, NY. Photo 2012.

President Tavern and Cafeteria Matchbook ca. 1930s.

My grandfather ate lunch at the President Restaurant nearly every day for the over 20 years he worked for an engineering company, at first when the firm was located in the same building as The President and then after his office moved to a building on Park Avenue.  He would lunch in the cafeteria-style restaurant, taking his tray past the assortment of hot food dishes behind a glass case.  Reflecting the standard American diet of the 1950s and 60s the offerings consisted mostly of meat dishes (see menu below).  A typical meal included a seafood or meat dish such as roast beef served with gravy, a side of potatoes, and cooked vegetables such as spinach or a salad.  My grandfather liked to get a few slices of roast beef and chat with the meat carver; he preferred the cafeteria because he liked being able to see and pick out the food he was about to eat.  He would entertain clients in the tavern section.  For patrons like my grandfather, The President offered a one stop dining experience.

President Restaurant Menu ca. 1963-69.

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President Restaurant Menu circa 1963-69. Back cover.

And of course, The President also had a theme, although it was not a "theme restaurant" per se; the staff did not dress in period costume and sing patriotic ballads or anything like that.  I don't know why Munves and Agran chose to glorify U.S. presidential personages on the menu.  Perhaps they liked the memorable and dignified sounding name and the idea that patrons might feel special dining there.  Perhaps, as recent Eastern European immigrants, Munves and Agran felt it was a kind of homage or good luck symbol for their new business venture in America.  Perhaps they were trying to project a patriotic, Americentric air in an effort to assimilate and seduce a variety of customers.  There is very little recorded information about the men who built this unassuming restaurant with a big name.  After opening The President, Munves married and settled down in Babylon, Long Island.  Sadly, in 1951 the Munves' first-born son, age 5, drowned in a boating accident near their home.  Eventually Munves remarried and had more children.  Certainly The President kept going.

The circa 1961 president-themed postcard below came from the President Restaurant and was designed by Hilborn Novelty Advertising, a company specializing in caricature postcards.  When I see this postcard, with its tiny presidents' head shots pasted onto the bodies of football players proclaiming "An All-American Team with Democracy their Goal," and the menu above decorated with presidents' faces, one empty box eagerly waiting to be filled, I sense the pride and great pleasure that the Munves and Agrans derived from the distinctive place they had built together.  When Michael and Gene decided to close the restaurant in 1972, ultimately pursuing other careers and focusing more on their growing families, Samuel Agran was 75 years old.  He died 9 years later.

Postcard from The President Restaurant, ca. 1961. Reads "An All-American Team with Democracy their Goal." 

As it happens, I've been enjoying The Bitter Season (1946) by Robert M. Coates, an articulate and sensitively written novel of a writer living in New York during World War II.  The book is filled with descriptions of the city at night, as the narrator takes the reader on a veritable street tour, glimpsing into darkened shops and the windows of eateries open past midnight, where estranged, lonely characters while away their time.  And here, amidst one street scene, is The President:

"Get ya late," cry the newsstand men up around Grand Central (it is dark, it is late, it is cold), and in the bar of the President Tavern two soldiers are standing laughing while a third holds the rim of the bar with both hands and (he laughing too) leans back drunkenly; in the window of Florists Funeral Designs next door they are featuring a set of big brandy snifter glasses, arranged carefully in a row and each one with a small cactus plant growing inside it: apparently it's the latest idea.  (pg. 50)

This description would be from around the same period as the NYPL menu above, dated 1944.  

This post was updated on June 21, 2013 with information provided by members of the Munves and Agran families.  My sincere thanks to everyone who kindly contributed details, particularly Linda Agran, whose memories have allowed for a much richer picture of this storied place.

For more on restaurant history, take a look at Jan Whitaker's authoritative blog Restaurant-ing Through History.

Ephemeral New York is an excellent blog on things New York. 

Selling Milk Between the Wars: Two Pre-WWII U.S. Milk Industry Booklets Part II

Borden-Wieland. 1937. "Delicious Dairy Dishes," presented by Crowley's Milk Company, Inc. (promotional booklet). Meta Given and Ruth Cooper (contribs.) 62pp. Illustrated in color.

The Crowley Dairy Company was founded in Poughkeepsie, NY in 1904 by J.K. Crowley. In 1915 the company moved to Binghamton where its headquarters remain today. Because "Delicious Dairy Dishes" (hereafter DDD) is copyrighted by Borden-Wieland and 'presented' by Crowley, I suspect this may have served as a general dairy industry booklet that individual, regional brands could co-opt for marketing purposes.

Over twenty years after "The Story of Carnation Milk" was published, science continued to offer a useful language for marketing consumer goods. In comparing the two milk industry booklets we see that in both cases the recipes are devised to encourage home cooks to use milk in everyday cooking. While the Carnation booklet attempts to convince those who may already be loyal milk consumers that canned milk is a superior, technologically sophisticated alternative, the authoritative tone of the Crowley milk booklet highlights scientific proof of the important vitamins and minerals found in "fresh" dairy foods.

Unlike Carnation's evocative pastoral scene, the cover of DDD features no landscape, just the fruits of industry, prepared according to the tenets of the modern kitchen. The title page reads, "Recipes tested and approved by Meta Given and Ruth Cooper, Specialists in Home Economics." In addition to recipes, the text includes several essays by the authors. Whereas Carnation describes its milk production processes as being supervised by "careful, experienced men", in DDD the focus has shifted to the kitchen, organized according to the philosophy of home economics, a term that gained currency in the early 20th century and was widely used by the booklet's 1937 copyright date.



The introduction page appeals to the health and economic concerns of people during the Depression years, stating,"Milk is the original food and nearly as perfect as you will find. It does more for the body than any other food and does it more cheaply. There is no substitute for milk." The introduction boldly asserts that, "Nutritionists advise that one-fourth of the food budget be spent on milk and its related products. With milk furnishing so much for so little outlay of money, this advice must be sound. So for good health and a long, happy life, use milk and dairy products abundantly."

Milk's beneficial components are then dissected and explained:

All model diets give milk a very important place because: Its
1. Protein is ideally adapted for body growth and repair
2. Sugar (lactose) is helpful in preventing digestive disturbances
3. Minerals (calcium and phosphorous) are easily absorbed and ideal for bone and teeth building.
4. Vitamins (A, B, and G) make this an important source with some trace of vitamins C and D.

As also seen in the PET Milk pamphlet, the emphasis on vitamin content reflects early 20th century health concerns, such as mineral and vitamin deficiencies. The scientific discovery of vitamins in the first quarter of the 20th century and eventual synthesization of vitamins, beginning with vitamin C in 1935, helped remedy nutrition deficiency illnesses such as rickets.

Essays on "The Daily Diet," "Butter Cookery," and "Hints on Vegetable Cookery" further explain the nutritional importance of dairy foods. While butter came to be characterized as unhealthy in the late 1960s due to saturated fat content, DDD champions its healthiness: "A food so high in vitamin A content is valuable in the protection against eye trouble known as Xerophthalmia and against diseases of the upper respiratory organs...Where foods of high caloric content must be cut out, butter should never be on this list, because of its vitamin content."

Despite their slightly different agendas, both milk industry booklets combine recipes for popular dishes with information about the production methods or nutritional content of the product and are designed for home cooks. The latterly published DDD shows several additions and alterations in recipe conventions. A section on hors d'oevres suggests an increased interest in entertaining guests, and the use of regional and international location names in recipe titles, such as Southern Corn Pudding, Coffee Bavarian, and Mexican Orange Candy, may have appealed to a desire for urbanity and an air of cosmopolitan sophistication in the Depression era. Despite being published during an economic crisis, DDD eludes the use of tinned ingredients and items such as lentils, highlighted in the Carnation booklet as "economical."

Promotional recipe booklets are interesting artifacts; while they cannot be depended on to accurately reflect the tastes of the period (unlike cookbooks they lack a measurable value) recipe booklets do portray what companies thought consumers would respond to. Because taste and consumption habits shape and are shaped by such advertising material, these historical documents deserve close reading.

Recipe: Carnation Milk Bread

The Story of Carnation Milk, Booklet, 1915. Things Made with Carnation Milk .

As mentioned in the last post on a 1915 Carnation Milk booklet, the recipes included are adaptations of conventional contemporary favorites such as Perfection Salad, Welsh Rarebit, and Macaroni and Cheese. The bread recipe below includes detailed instruction but omits information about oven temperature and baking time, suggesting that such information would have been understood. The adapted version produces only one loaf and omits the boiling water, using the milk as the only liquid. The resulting loaf is very soft and tasty- delicious plain or toasted, with butter and rhubarb jam.

Carnation Milk Bread, from "The Story of Carnation Milk"
Makes 3 small loaves and a dozen small rolls

1 cup Carnation Milk
2 Tbs shortening
1 Tbs sugar
2 tsp salt
3 cups boiling water
1 yeast cake
1/2 cup lukewarm water
11 to 12 cups (even) flour

Measure Carnation Milk, shortening, sugar, and salt into bowl; pour on the boiling water; stand until lukewarm.
Add the yeast which has been dissolved in the lukewarm water; stir in as much flour as dough will take up, and turn upon bread board.
Knead 15 to 25 minutes, adding additional flour as needed. Put in mixing bowl and cover; set to rise; when risen to double original size, turn on floured board, cut into loaves, kneading only to give shape. Let rise in pans to double size and bake.



5 o'clock teaspoon Adapted Milk Bread
Makes 1 standard loaf

1 cup evaporated milk, plus more for brushing
1 tsp yeast
2 tsp sugar
1 Tbs butter
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/2 to 3 cups all purpose flour

Grease a standard-size metal loaf pan and line with parchment, leaving a 1"-2" border. Pour 1/4 cup warm (almost hot) water in a large, non-reactive bowl and sprinkle yeast over surface of the water. Give it a little swirl so that the yeast dissolves. Gently heat evaporated milk and butter in a saucepan until lukewarm and the butter has dissolved. Pour into bowl, and stir in sugar, salt and 2 cups of flour. Continue to add flour about 1/2 cup at a time until the dough will not take more. Turn on a floured surface and knead 5-7 minutes, adding flour as necessary, until the dough is smooth, soft, and no longer sticky. Place in a large bowl covered by a damp cloth and set in a warm spot until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.
Once dough has risen, gently form into a loaf shape, place in greased loaf tin, cover, and set to rise, about 1 hour. Preheat oven to 375°F. Once loaf has more or less doubled, brush with a little evaporated milk or butter and place in center of oven. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until top is golden brown.

*To be sure the bread is done, lift from pan by pulling on the parchment border. Insert a bamboo grilling skewer through the middle at an inconspicuous spot. If it comes out clean, the loaf is ready.


A reader submitted the following wonderful adaptation of the recipe for use with bread machines:

Carnation Milk Bread Adapted For Bread Machines
Prep Time: 15 | Cook Time: 3 hours | Servings: 1 1-1/2 pound loaf | Difficulty: Easy

Ingredients:

3/8 cup warm water
2 1/4 tsp yeast (1 package)
1 1/2 cup evaporated milk (1 can)
1 1/2 Tbs butter
3 tsp sugar
3/4 tsp salt
3 3/4 cups all purpose flour

Directions:

Sprinkle yeast on top of warm water and then swirl
Heat milk to 100° (30 seconds in microwave, then stir)
Stir in sugar, salt, yeast mixture
Pour into bread machine
Measure flour into bread machine
Set machine to light crust setting if it has one

Notes: Warm means 98°–105°


See also, Selling Milk Between the Wars" Two Pre-WWII U.S. Milk Industry Booklets, Part 1

Selling Milk Between the Wars: Two Pre-WWII U.S. Milk Industry Booklets Part I

Carnation Milk

Pacific Coast Condensed Milk Company. 1915. "The Story of Carnation Milk" (promotional booklet). 32pp. Illustrated, with some color illustrations. Printed by the American Lithographic Co., NY.

Although first available in the mid-19th century, it took almost a century before canned milk became a trusted product. Booklets such as this one, published in 1915 by Carnation Milk, attempted to gain the public's interest and trust by offering scientific evidence in support of the product and providing favorite recipes adapted to work with evaporated milk. Printed just two years before the inauguration of the American Dairy Science Association, this booklet represents a moment when commodities such as milk became part of an agro-industry structure with a much larger distribution facilitated by improvements to the nation's infrastructure. Elbridge Amos Stuart launched the Carnation brand with a sterilized cream product in 1899. Using a controlled source of milk from the cows on his Seattle dairy farm, Stuart developed the slogan "Carnation Milk, From Contented Cows," creating an image that combines modern, exacting production methods with time-tested knowledge.

The booklet's cover shows a young woman and child looking over a bucolic landscape dotted with grazing cows framed by a backdrop of trees and mountains, fusing the majesty of natural monuments with agricultural industry. The vista is not simply eye-catching, however. It encapsulates the central theme presented in the booklet-- an ideal American way of life challenged by a changing post-World War I environment.

The Story of Carnation Milk, Booklet, 1915. Front Cover.

The "story" opens by describing the product as an essential part of life, and situating it within an idyllic, all but lost, simpler time:
Milk is a necessity. It is a universal food from infancy to old age. It forms part of the sustenance of human beings. In the good old days, practically every family "kept a cow." Towns and cities were not crowding people out of their own pastures and gardens. With the growth of the country industrially, the milk problem became different. People began buying milk from their neighbors, or of some one who had a farm and kept several cows. Life became more complex, cities were built more closely. It became impossible to know where the milk came from, and often it was just as impossible to know what kind of milk it was."

The text thus recalls the past to legitimize a new corporate product that is championed as a scientific advancement, brought about as an answer to the ills of modern urban life.

It is clear that the booklet is aimed at female consumers, most likely housewives in charge of purchasing and preparing family meals. It is their domestic knowledge that the booklet attempts to impress itself upon and yet, the way the milk production process is described is distinctly undomestic-- a mechanized, scientific application overseen by "careful, experienced men." The booklet is aimed at convincing housewives that evaporated milk is not only comparable to regular milk, but superior because of its unique, creamy taste and long shelf life:

Milk is a fundamental in cooking. Flour, eggs, butter, milk, and sugar--these are among the articles consumed in the greatest volume in the home. Naturally, the milk supply has the most opportunity to deteriorate in quality or become contaminated. Raw milk, as every housewife knows, seems to absorb odor and contaminating influences from everything about it, hence it is a delicate article of commerce, and the greatest care and caution often fails to protect it while in the raw state.

In this way, the information promotes evaporated milk by characterizing the housewife as incapable of anticipating the hazards of raw milk, much like the PET Milk powder pamphlet, mentioned in an earlier post.

The Story of Carnation Milk, Booklet, 1915. Back Cover.

Carnation used the idea that its products were available in grocery stores across the country, proffering the slogan "Your grocer is the Carnation milkman." In this modern industrialized setting, such products were conflated with, and became emblematic of, the United States as a whole. Milk companies were no longer tied to any one region. A 1920 advertisement for Carnation Milk in Montana's Times-Optimist suggests the convenience offered by evaporated milk over milking a cow: "Three times a day is not too often for it [milk] to feature on the menu (July 9, 1920). Despite, or perhaps because of efforts to portray evaporated milk as a technological advancement, the booklet's recipes are very conventional, with an emphasis on economy and the habits of the day. As noted on page 8, "Carnation may be poured into an earthen pitcher and used in the same manner as cream and milk..." Yet the booklet is careful to prepare consumers for the differences found in evaporated milk, "Do not expect Carnation Milk to taste like ordinary raw milk. It is better milk, and it will taste differently to you. Most people like the taste at once; others find that they must acquire the liking for it by using three or four cans."

The Story of Carnation Milk, Booklet, 1915. Recipes.

Carnation was eventually bought by Nestle in 1985 but the brand name is still in use today. While evaporated milk fell out of favor in the United States, as expanded infrastructure, improved pasteurization methods, refrigeration, and large scale dairy farming made fresh milk safe and easily accessible, it remains a popular choice in baking and as a creamer in coffee and tea, and continues to be an important milk source overseas, particularly in warm climates.

Coming next: A Recipe for Carnation Milk Bread from the Carnation Milk booklet and,
in Part II a 1937 booklet by milk conglomerate Borden-Wieland, "Delicious Dairy Dishes," presented by Crowley's Milk Company, Inc.

See also: "My Pet Cup": PET Milk and the Business of Feeding Babies

New Year's Tea

On New Year's day I sometimes like to have a tea party, using a few of my favorite porcelain and silver pieces to serve a variety of sweets and savories. The day's tea menu rests on an English porcelain menu stand, a charming 6" high table accessory from the 19th century. Although neither menus nor such accompanying stanchions are used in domestic settings today, these were once useful articles of dining that revealed the coming meal, and its inherent social expectations, to guests. Menu stands first appeared after 1870 in England and America, correlating with revisions to established dining rituals.

Handpainted Porcelain Menu Board, C.T. Maling, England, 1875-1908.

At Table: Using Menus in the 19th Century

Whether in elite or middle-class homes, eating at the 19th century Euro-American dining table involved a delicate negotiation of prevailing class mores-- a social drama enacted between the hosts and their guests. The handling of utensils and food was subtly observed and critiqued with regard to prescribed decorum. Dining manuals were published regularly, describing the correct procedures for hosts and guests to follow. It was not until the third quarter of the 19th century that dining fashions shifted in England and America, catching up with continental European trends.

Until the 1870s, the longstanding English dining custom had followed service à la francaise, in which the entire meal was first placed on the dining room sideboard, a brilliant, conspicuous display that unfortunately also meant one's food was usually cold by the time it was served at table. Service à la russe was introduced in France in the early part of the century, via the Russian court, and finally caught on in England and then in America after the 1860s. In this manner of presentation (most closely resembling today's) diners are seated at a table, often extravagantly decorated with floral and sweetmeat arrangements. Dishes are brought out and served in individually apportioned courses once they are prepared, and the serving pieces and food-specific eating implements are duly changed in anticipation of the next course's requirements.

Despite the advantages of service à la russe, diners were initially reluctant to change styles. As Esther Aresty frames the argument in The Exquisite Table: A History of French Cuisine (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1980), "how could one judge what quantity to eat of a dish, not knowing what was to follow-- and even more important, how could one adequately measure the bounty of a host?" (101). With these thoughts in mind, the daintily rendered menu card and its stand provided diners with a literal preview of the meal to follow. An entry in one 19th century treatise on domestic management reads:

Menus, or Bills of Fare.-- These are generally placed by the side of each individual, so that he may know at once what is to be set before him, and may partake of that which he most approves. A small menu stand, containing the bill of fare, may be placed before each guest, and most beautiful and artistic cards are sold upon which the order of the dinner can be written. The task of drawing up the bill of fare is generally undertaken by the mistress of the house or by the experienced cook to whom she trusts the execution of her orders. Knowledge, taste and judgment are called for in its accomplishment, and the crowning honor of a successful banquet certainly belongs to the person who conceived the idea of it...Menus may be made as souvenirs by the hostess, being either hand-painted or embroidered.
--Scammell's Universal Treasure-House of Useful Knowledge: an encyclopedia of valuable receipts in the principal arts of life, 1885, published by H.A. Hess of Salt Lake City in 1889.

Several sample menus are then provided, of which the seasonal tea menu is shown below:

By the turn of the century, menu stands became a common feature at dinner gatherings and silver menu stands were often presented to guests at commemorative events.

Silver Menu Stands, Goldsmiths & Silversmiths Co. Catalogue, 1899, London.

Eating out came into fashion in the latter part of the century in relation to new dining habits, and table menus and stands became a feature of restaurant establishments. This novel requisite of the table provided a platform for invention as seen in an 1883 patent for a napkin ring cum menu holder, below.

Indeed, the menu stand took on a few uses beyond the obvious. As one column in the periodical "Table Talk" quips, "The inventor of the menu-holder, with mirror back, was undoubtedly a woman. She understood the value of a sly look at hair, flowers and complexion. It is such a tonic to wit and conversation to be assured one is looking their best. ("Table Talk," Vol. 7, 1892)

Recipe: Hijiki Doughnuts and Hijiki Hotcakes

Hijiki (Sargassum fusiforme) is a type of seaweed that grows along the coastlines of China, Korea, and Japan. Available in grocery stores in dried form, hijiki is commonly used in Japanese home cooking. Its crinkly, tea-like leaves are soaked in water for about an hour, swelling to tadpole sized pieces. Hijiki is very high in iron, calcium, and magnesium. Although it contains minute levels of inorganic arsenic toxin, Japanese health authorities do not consider hijiki to be health threatening as it is consumed in such small amounts. Furthermore, the toxicity level decreases significantly when hijiki is soaked, rinsed, and cooked.

For more about cooking with hijiki see this post from Just Hungry. For more on seaweed, see my post on agar-agar.

Hijiki seaweed, with a late 19th century English copper tea canister in the Aesthetic style, depicting cranes.

Hijiki has a mild seaweed fragrance, chewy texture, and a nutty flavor that is delicious in soups and mixed into rice. Yet the first time I tasted hijiki was in doughnuts that my mother had made in a Japanese cooking class: ping pong-sized balls of sweet and crispy, fried dough that concealed a soft interior filled with hijiki. Although I haven't been able to locate my mother's recipe from the cooking class, I have adapted my favorite recipe for baked doughnuts from 101 cookbooks to include hijiki.

Recipe
Baked Hijiki Doughnuts
Yields about 2 dozen 2" balls

Ingredients

2 Tbs hijiki
2/3 cup warm milk
1/2 packet active dry yeast (about 1 generous teaspoon)
1 Tbs cooking oil, such as canola
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt

1/4 cup butter
confectioners' sugar

1. Cover hijiki with water and soak for 30 minutes to 1 hour. Drain in a colander, rinse, and place hikiji in a towel to wring dry, as you would with spinach. Set aside.

2. Place half (1/3 cup) of the warm milk in a large bowl and sprinkle yeast over top. Stir until dissolved. Let it sit for 5-7 minutes, or until you can see the yeast start to activate and produce little bubbles. Place remaining milk in a mixing bowl and stir in oil and sugar. Add this to yeast mixture. Whisk in egg, flour, and salt. Stir with a wooden spoon until well combined and then knead with your hands (either in bowl or turn onto a floured countertop) about 5 times, or until the dough becomes homogenous, elastic, and soft. If the dough is too sticky, sprinkle more flour on as you knead. If too dry, sprinkle more milk on as you knead.

3. Place dough in a large, greased bowl. Cover with a damp cloth and place in a warm spot to rise for 1 hour, or until doubled in size.

4. Punch down dough and knead hijiki into dough until evenly distributed. Place 1 1/2" balls of dough on parchment lined baking sheets. Cover with a damp towel and let rise another 45 minutes.

5. Bake doughnuts in an oven preheated at 375 degrees for 8-10 minutes. Meanwhile, melt butter in a saucepan. After 8 minutes, check on doughnuts. When the bottoms are golden brown they are ready. Remove from the oven, brush liberally with melted butter, dust with confectioners' sugar, and serve.




Another way to use hijiki is in dorayaki-style hotcakes. Dorayaki are Japanese filled pancakes, consisting of two castella cakes encasing a filling of either red bean, peanut, chocolate, or cream cheese.
The recipe below features hijiki and cream cheese inside a pancake made buoyant with whipped egg whites. I'd like to experiment with flavor combinations, substituting whole wheat pastry flour for all-purpose, and adding pureed pumpkin, sweet potato, or carrot to the batter.

Shown in an onigiri (rice ball) carrier, that works well for transporting hotcakes too.

Recipe
Hijiki Hotcakes
Yields about 4 hotcakes. To make a large batch, simply multiply the proportions below. Freeze any extra hotcakes and thaw in the microwave to serve.

Ingredients

1 Tbs hijiki
2 oz. cream cheese
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 Tbs sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs, separated
1 cup milk or soymilk
2 Tbs butter, melted and cooled, plus more for the pan

1. 1. Cover hijiki with water and soak for 30 minutes to 1 hour. Drain in a colander, rinse, and place hikiji in a towel to wring dry, as you would with spinach. Set aside.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a small bowl, whisk egg yolks with milk and butter. Add to flour mixture. In another bowl, beat egg whites at high speed until peaks form. Fold egg whites into batter in 2 additions.

3. Heat a pan over medium high heat with butter. Add a spoonful of batter and as the edges start to firm, gingerly place a teaspoon of cream cheese and a pinch of hijiki (about 7 pieces) on the center of the cake. Top with a little more batter. When bottom is golden (1-2 minutes), flip over and cook 1-2 minutes more. Repeat with remaining batter.