Last year I posted about the cookbook Mexican Cookery for American Homes (1936 edition), and later tried a recipe from the book for “Enchiladas, Mexican Style” that turned out to be excellent.

Flickr user Eudaemonius has posted a complete version of the 1932 edition of the same cookbook. It is much more colorful and flamboyant in design than the 1936 copy I have—mine, perhaps, reflects a bit more Depression-era austerity. It doesn’t include the bilingual titles that the later edition contained. The 1932 copy also does not contain all of the recipes. It may be shorter (I can’t find mine to double-check at the moment), but it definitely doesn’t include the stacked enchiladas I made from the other book. It does have recipes such as “Mexican Rarebit,” “Chili and Rice Cones,” and “Mexican Chop Suey.”

Yes, you read that correctly. Here you go!

MEXICAN CHOP SUEY

• 4 T. butter
• 2 small onions, chopped
• 3 pieces celery, chopped
• 1 green pepper, chopped
• 1 lb. hamburger
• 1 No. 1 can tomato puree
• 1 t. salt
• 1 No. 2 can Gebhardt's Spaghetti

Cook onions, celery and green pepper in butter until tender; add hamburger and continue cooking until partially done.

Add tomato puree, salt and simmer until meat is tender.

Turn into a greased casserole, cover with contents of No. 2 can Gebhardt's Spaghetti and Chili and bake in moderate oven 20 min.

Mexican? Probably not so much. But it reminds me of some of the casseroles my mom cooked in the 1970s.

One other site I wanted to point you to is La Cocina Historica, a project of the University of Texas at San Antonio Special Collections Department. The blog features recipes from the university’s Mexican Cookbook Collection. They have more than 900 Mexican, Texan, and Southwestern cookbooks in Spanish and English, dating from 1789-2010. The collection includes printed cookbooks and also handwritten manuscripts. The bloggers (multiple people contribute to the site) try out the recipes and describe how they turned out.

I think “Huevos al Estilo Español” (1908) sounds lovely, but that’s probably because it’s pretty close to my breakfast burrito recipe already. I’d just mix up that filling and wrap it in tortillas.

(Editorial note: This post was changed slightly on May 17, 2011 to include new recipe formatting to be compatible with Google’s Recipe View system.)

The original source cited by the Old Foodie, as I mentioned yesterday, is apparently a 1937 American newspaper article, though I don’t know which newspaper. I have not been able to find it. The earliest Malted Milk Cake recipe I’ve been able to find is here, but though the book is claimed to be a reprint of a 1900 version of A Book of Practical Recipes for the Housewife, it’s not likely to be that old. The “Frozen Cookies” recipe on page 63 refers to a “mechanical refrigerator,” which wouldn’t have been available for household use in 1900. There are versions of this cookbook elsewhere online that are dated in the 1920s and 1930s, such as this one dated 1923. For this experiment, I’ll stick with the Old Foodie’s recipe, but maybe I’ll try the Practical Recipe version another time.

The only change I made to the 1937 recipe was slightly increasing the amount of vanilla.

I mixed the cake batter, and I must say, it was really, really good. (I know I’m not supposed to taste cake batter with raw eggs! But it’s so good!) It was a lovely light brown color and had a gentle chocolate malt flavor.

The cakes baked beautifully. I had to cook them an extra 10 minutes, but my oven temperature often runs a bit low so this wasn’t surprising. The kitchen smelled wonderful. So far, the recipe looked like a success.

Then came the Chocolate Malted Milk Topping. T. W. Barritt at the Culinary Types blog has also made this recipe, and said about the topping in 1920s slang, “The icing is just a bit ornery and doesn’t hit on all sixes.” I agree. The gelatin/evaporated milk/malted milk/sugar combo whips into what looks like a really nice, smooth icing, but it’s definitely ornery, as well as not quite as much as I would have liked to cover the cake.

I even used an old egg beater to whip up the icing. Much quieter than an electric mixer.

Once assembled, though, the cake looked reasonably nice, as you can see in the photo. I put in in the ol’ ice box (well, “mechanical refrigerator”) to chill.

Verdict

The cake itself is wonderful. It is light, and not too sweet, with a malted chocolate flavor that doesn’t overpower you. It doesn’t taste like a Whopper, for example, which is all overwhelming sweetness and waxy “mockolate.” It’s just got a well-balanced malted milk flavor. I would make the cake again, any time.

The icing is another story. It wasn’t just that it was kind of annoying to work with. I can live with that. But the gelatin was also problematic for textural and flavor reasons. The topping seemed just a little too stiff and rubbery once it set up, and I could taste just the tiniest taste of plain gelatin behind the sugar, malt, and milk flavors. It’s weird—I don’t notice that taste if I have, say, flavored Jell-O. But I definitely taste it here, and that touch of gelatin flavor puts me off the topping just a bit.

Considering the results of the earlier Tomato Jelly Salad experiment, I’m beginning to think that I just have a problem with gelatin in general. It’s a good thing I didn’t grow up in the 1920s or 30s.

Kristen and Jason were also guinea pigs for this recipe. Jason liked it, but thought the cake was slightly dry. He didn’t notice the issues with the icing that I did. Kristen liked the cake, but, like me, did not care for the icing.

Despite the icing not being to my taste, the cake overall is a success. Next time, different icing: something light, to match the lightness of the cake, and without gelatin. Last week I made a lemon ice box cake that had frosting made from whipped cream, sweetened condensed milk, and lemon juice. It was light and delicious. I wonder how something like that, with malt and chocolate substituted for the lemon, would work with this cake.

Time to browse The New Art:

This cookbook/wish book showcased kitchens with GE appliances, and included recipes. It includes the recipes from the earlier Silent Hostess cookbook, along with other recipes to play to the strengths of other GE appliances besides the refrigerators.

First, they give you a few new 1934 model kitchens to drool over:

Wow, that double-wide Monitor Top in the first picture would be luxurious!

Then, a before and after kitchen remodeling image:

The old kitchen meant “lost youth and beauty, and impaired health.” Yikes! Better upgrade, to a “lifetime investment,” that is, until it’s out of style in a few years. How about this new range?

I’d buy one of these today. What a gorgeous stove.

What about a mixer, or even a dishwasher?

“No more tell-tale ‘dishpan’ hands”! And it washes all the dishes in 5 minutes!

And then there’s the newer model of the classic Monitor Top fridge:

…just what we need to make this colorful Melon Ball Cocktail, or the Ginger Ale Fruit Salad.

Of course, this was 1934. The world was in the depths of the Depression. The average family could only dream of a kitchen with a dishwasher and all of the other bright and shiny new GE appliances.

Let’s try the ginger ale:

GINGER ALE FRUIT SALAD

2 tablespoons gelatin
1/4 cup cold water
1/2 cup boiling water
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup chopped nuts
1 cup ginger ale
1 cup grapes
1 banana
1 apple
2 oranges

1. Soak gelatin in cold water five minutes and dissolve in boiling water. 2. Add lemon juice, sugar and ginger ale. 3. Cut grapes in halves and remove seeds. 4. Slice banana. Peel and chop apple. 5. Separate oranges into sections and remove membranes. 6. When ginger ale mixture begins to thicken, fold in fruit and nuts. 7. Turn into molds and chill. 8. Serve on crisp lettuce leaves with Fruit Salad Dressing.

Then again, I am still recovering from the last experiment with gelatin. Maybe I’ll wait to try this one later.

I think I may have to try the Peach & Sour Cream Pie.

We couldn’t. Our fridge is now one of these:

(Photo by Phil Urwin)

…a late 1920s or possibly early 1930s GE Monitor Top refrigerator, the fridge that made it “safe to be hungry.” Seven cubic feet of frosty cold storage, and I do mean frosty. We have to defrost frequently, though it’s not terribly difficult.

For most people who acquired one of these Monitor Tops when they were new, it was the first electric refrigerator they ever owned. Even if they had an ice box before, they couldn’t have used it the same way a refrigerator would be used; ice boxes weren’t good at keeping consistent low temperatures. They certainly couldn’t have easily made ice cubes to cool their drinks.

General Electric came to the rescue with cookbooks/manuals like this one:

This “Silent Hostess” Treasure Book was published by GE in 1930, and includes illustrations, recipes, and instructions on how to properly use (and defrost) a Monitor Top refrigerator (though they never use that phrase).

Filling the refrigerator properly was important.

It was also important to know and use the different features of the Monitor Top correctly: the Cabinet, the Chiller, and the Super-freezer (always capitalized and in italics).

The Super-freezer is the small evaporator, which has room for a couple of ice cube trays and not much else. It does chill a can of pop very rapidly. The Chiller is the glass tray just under the Super-freezer, a good place to keep things that need to be extra cold, and also a place for the melted ice to drip into when defrosting. The Cabinet is just the rest of the fridge.

The housewife (yes, the book assumes that women will do all the cooking) with a new Monitor Top would then be able to entertain her guests with such cool and tasty treats as lemonade, with the suggestion “Serve with colored ice cubes or serve a spoonful of grape juice that has been frozen to a mush in each glass.” I like the grape juice idea. Unfortunately the picture doesn’t show the colorful ice cube suggestion.

The book also contains a lot of gelatin recipes: lots and lots and lots of aspic. The 1920s was the heyday of the gelatin salad. In the salad chapter, almost every recipe includes gelatin. Tuna Fish Salad? It’s what we would think of as tuna salad… surrounded by gelatin and molded. Summer Salad? Cucumber and onion in Lemon Aspic. Golden Salad? Carrot in Lemon Aspic. Tomato-Celery Salad? Celery, green peppers and olives in Tomato Aspic. The modern leafy green salad simply did not exist in this cookbook.

The book also contains suggested menus. Thanksgiving is coming soon, so here is the suggested Thanksgiving Dinner menu:

Shrimp Cocktail*
Roast Turkey
Mashed Potatoes            Chestnut Stuffing
Carrots in Butter                 Cranberry Jelly
Tomato Jelly Salad*
Saltines
Mince Tarts with Vanilla Ice Cream*
Nuts          Fruit          Mints
Coffee
(Menu items marked with * are recipes that are in the book.)

Thanksgiving is perhaps the most traditional of meals, so this isn’t too strange to our eyes. But there it is, gelatin again — Tomato Jelly Salad. Tomato Aspic, in individual molds, unmolded onto crisp lettuce and served with mayonnaise dressing. I can safely say that I don’t think this is part of most modern Thanksgiving meals.

We may try this one for the heck of it. 1920s gelatin-based salads are a bit off-putting to our modern tastes, but we are curious whether there is any good reason they were popular. Stay tuned.

(Edited to add — I just found this lovely picture of a modern “tomato jelly salad.” Whether the version in the “Silent Hostess” cookbook will look that nice (and taste good too) is yet to be determined.)

(Want to see more Monitor Tops? I set up a Monitor Top photo pool on Flickr.)

This was a premium offered to subscribers of American Cookery in 1920.

“Her cakes never stick either.

“She had me get her a cheap paint brush for greasing pans, and to make sure the bristles wouldn t fall out into things, she dropped some shellac varnish on the bristles where they are set into the wood.

“Now take her way of making cookies. She rolls the dough out in one sheet and bakes it in one large dripping pan. Then just as soon as she takes it from the oven she scores it into squares or triangles and the cookies break off neatly when cool.

“Yes, and I thought I knew all about making pies, but to see her go about it makes me feel as though I didn’t know anything; she always measures everything used, and then she mixes the shortening in with a fork.

“I suppose you think she has been to college by the way she measures everything, but she says it’s more economical than guessing, and I’m beginning to think she is right.

“And did you ever hear of weighing the shortening? Sally says it is far easier to weigh it than measure it, because one pint of lard weighs one pound.

“And what do you suppose she uses for a rolling pin? Why a big round bottle full of ice or ice water. She got the idea from a place where she used to work in the city; they had a hollow rolling pin that they could fill with ice.

“Gee! Sally is great on saving dish washing, too. She never seems to use my bread board for pies or anything. Instead she uses a piece of white paper, or waxed paper, and I have seen her use the inside of a paper flour sack. It is thrown into the fire and there is nothing to wash but the utensils used.

“And I never saw anybody put the food chopper to so many different uses; instead of grating the lemons, and her fingers, too, she takes a sharp knife and pares off the rind, then runs it through the food chopper. Cheese is treated the same way, and she can prepare vegetables in a ‘jiffy,’ and they cook quicker, too, for the fine cutting. Once when we were late at starting supper and I didn’t think there would be time to cook potatoes, she had them peeled and run through the food chopper while I was worrying what to have in place of them. They fried in a few minutes.

“Another thing Sally hardly ever uses is my chopping bowl. She had Max plane off a square board that she keeps lying on the kitchen table. When a vegetable is to be sliced or chopped she simply holds it on the board and cuts it down with a heavy, sharp knife.

“Cabbage, nuts, pineapple, and so many things are all laid out on the board, and using the knife as kind of a lever, cut into even lengths in half the time it takes by the old way.

“Vegetables, like salsify and parsnips, are scraped on the board. She holds them firmly against the board and with the other hand scrapes with regular downward strokes.

“And let me tell you how Sally crushes bread crumbs; she says one is silly to roll them with a rolling pin and have the crumbs flying all over the room, she always uses a sugar or salt sack and fills it with the dried crumbs and pounds it with a mallet. Now isn t that simple enough? But I never would have thought of it.

“Oh, yes, and another thing Sally uses so much is my scissors. I think she uses them more in the kitchen than I do in the sewing-room and, when she cuts up anything sticky, like raisins or marshmallows, she rubs a little butter along the blades and on her fingers, too, and then she can work so much faster. She always uses a big pair of shears to cut up a chicken, and where I always sewed up the opening of a stuffed fowl, why Sally don’t, she just does it in a few minutes by sticking toothpicks into the edges and lacing it up with a string. It is so easy to remove, too.

“When Sally first came to our house, I didn’t think she knew anything about cooking, but really she can fix up the daintiest meal I ever ate with her labor-saving methods, as she calls them.”

(Was the use of a cutting board really considered unusual?)

I’ll start with a quick one. While browsing around today, I stumbled on a Scribd document that contains links to a bunch of historic cookbooks that can be found online. Some of the links in it are broken, but others work fine, and there’s a lot of fun browsing you can do from these links. Enjoy.

Online Historic Cookbooks 3

The other day we were at my mom’s house, and mentioned that we were thinking of doing a blog about old recipes. I said “I wish I had more of my grandma’s recipes.” My mom said “Oh? You mean like the ones in her cookbook?” and went to the cupboard and pulled out a little blue book stuffed crazily with newspaper and magazine clippings.

I had no idea this book existed.

I talked her into letting me borrow it to scan, and found a mother lode of old recipes. The book was given from my grandfather to my grandmother in February 1934, when she was still 16 years old. (They married later that year, when she was 17.) It has a bunch of handwritten recipes in with the printed ones, and then there was the collection of clippings (not photographed here; I took them out of the book and stored them separately because their deterioration was damaging the book). It looks as if, for most of her married life, she kept recipes in this book one way or another.

We will be using this as a recipe source, but I thought you might enjoy a peek inside as well: