Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams munchers, nibblers, grazers, finicky pickers, and gobblers! It’s that time of year again–tell the world…let them know…it’s HALLOWREEN! No wait…sorry….THANKSGIVING!! Yes, that’s right. I just got confused because I’ve been guzzling our World Famous Pumpkin Punch ever since the leaves began to turn. And as I’m sure you know, the sheer amount of nutmeg clumped on the top of our secret recipe will distract from any sort of calendar turning. Here take a mug! Watch out for the copious sharp pieces of bark that cracked off our cinnamon sticks.
Speaking of recipes spoken of in hushed tones among family members and friends, Thanksgiving is a time of not only excess and turkey-related incidents, but to share your most coveted, most cherished, and yes, most FAMOUS recipes. And naturally, who are we, at Filthy Dreams, to argue with tradition?
Well, this year (like last year), Filthy Dreams is taking a trip back to our kitschy kitchen–our kitsch-en if you will–to celebrate those nauseating, nostalgic, and noxious vintage recipes from the mid-20th century. That’s right–we’re going to honor any number of loaves, aspics, rings, delights, surprises and sippers. You know what that means, get out some industrial-sized vats of mayonnaise and cottage cheese peppered with celery and parsley as we channel our inner Betty Draper:
But don’t you worry: this year, we aren’t just recycling the same old recipes that have floated around the Internet, haunting listicles and Pinterest for years. We’ve got a special Thanksgiving treat for all our Filthy Dreams foodies: some newly culled recipes from original source materials–garish and gaudy cookbooks kindly bestowed upon us by a friend with a corresponding interest in all things mid-century camp.
I mean, what is it that is so fascinating about these cookbooks from the 1940s through the 1970s? Is it the construction of the idealized Suzy Homemaker market, driving post-war women to maniacally strive for unobtainable perfection in the form of Jello molds only to fail and try again? Is it the nostalgia for an America that not only had bread on the table, but food formed into ambitious rings or towers? Is it the yearning for the America that never truly existed that we hear in Lana Del Rey’s music or more psychotically, harnessed by the promoters of MAGA? Or is it just because the foods look objectively stomach-graspingly repulsive and that considering putting that much mayonnaise in our bodies is just good, old-fashioned fun?
No matter the answer. the frenzied zeal that these cookbooks encourage and inspire is infectious at the very least. Why not pick a few to feature at your Thanksgiving dinner? Don’t even mention it to the hosts or if you’re hosting, well, those guests better get in line. Where else are they going to go? Applebee’s? And if guests complain they don’t want to eat something called Cottage Cheese Glory or slurp some Bouillon Sippers, then ask: what do they have against America and our culinary traditions? Are they liberal snowflakes waging War on Thanksgiving? I mean, it’s like you can’t even say Thanksgiving anymore!!!
A verz gay post! Should get out moms cook books …