The Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Sixties Cookbook (2 page)

In the Sixties, food wasn’t something to just grab and eat on the run. It was a central part of social interaction, of personal and business development. The most important events in life unfurled across the lunch or dinner table. Relationships were made, mended, and mangled over food. Important clients were wooed, soothed, and sometimes lost at restaurants. And enough cannot be said of the Three-Martini Lunch.

The Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Sixties Cookbook
is here to joyously celebrate the decade’s food, from fish sticks to Nesselrode pie. We understand that there may be some of you who still look askance at Sixties cooking. Maybe you remember things floating in gelatin that just didn’t belong there. We promise you this: some of these recipes have kitsch value, but there is not one single thing in this book that we have not served to our friends and family with positive results. (Yes, even the canned soup recipes, which many people enjoyed as a walk down memory lane.)

We formally invite you to toss aside your preconceived notions of canned meat and convenience food and discover the scrumptious, sublime culinary heritage of the Sixties. Allow us to reintroduce you to authentic, epicurean delights like beef Wellington, chicken Kiev, and roast leg of lamb with neon-green mint jelly. Enjoy almost-forgotten international sensations (of dubious paternity) like vichyssoise and rumaki. Learn how to make a proper Sixties steak (in the pan, with butter). Of course, we’ll still have some fun with picnic foods and pupu platters (makes us giggle every time). We double dog dare you to find something better than desserts you get to set on fire. And lest we forget, there is a more-than-complete selection of mixed drinks to wrap things up, including lots of tips on how to stir (or shake) up a mean cocktail.

With the recipes at hand, you will be serving supper like a Kennedy (Strawberries Romanoff), in a food coma thanks to childhood favorites (homemade Not-from-a-Box Macaroni and Cheese), and completely win over your aversion to aspic (well, maybe . . .). There are some dishes here that you will know already, but we strove to create recipes that are the very best versions you will ever have. And you will definitely know how to throw the best Sixties-themed party in your zip code. We promise.

In the interest of historical accuracy, we’ll share how the dishes were prepared in the Sixties (“Kitchen Time Machine”), but since we know now about the evils of too much processed food (Cheez Whiz, we’re looking at you . . .), we’ve elevated the recipes for the modern palate. Instead of just cracking open a can of tomato soup, we’ll show you how to make it from scratch. Although instant onion soup mix was a staple in Sixties recipes, we chop fresh onions for our onion dip, and choose reduced-sodium broth over salty bouillon cubes, and so on. These are minor tweaks that will let you enjoy your meal all the more. But if you want to whip out the margarine or canned cream of mushroom soup for era authenticity, we’ll tell you when, and how.

And true to the period, we’ll have fun along the way. Ever wonder about the stories behind TV mix or onion soup dip? What made Warhol want to paint Campbell’s soup cans? We’ll give you enough food history and trivia to dazzle your diners while they enjoy your midcentury feast.

While we invite you to mix and match the dishes in this book, we also have provided party-ready menus. You’ll be able to re-create everything from a “Mai Tai Madness” party with the best tropical food this side of the equator to a “Mint Julep Jamboree.” (With these cocktail-centric menus, we are not promoting overdrinking! Always be sure to include plenty of nonalcoholic beverages too. But we do find that it is easier to serve a special single house cocktail than it is to turn your house into a fully stocked bar.) And we provide music playlists that are sure to set the mood.

So tie on an apron, pour yourself a drink, and get ready to rock and roll Sixties style!

CHAPTER 1

PARTY LIKE A PLAYBOY

B
efore we delve into the delish, we have to set the scene. Parties in the Sixties had a definite element of class. Women wore pearls inside the house; men wore hats (outside and never indoors) and tipped them often as a sign of courtesy. Even the Playboy bunny logo wore a bow tie. Manners were very important, exemplified by the White House’s chivalrous nickname: Camelot.

One of our most treasured possessions is a copy of
Betty Crocker’s Hostess Cookbook
from 1967. Even though we know she’s not real, we’re still a little in love with Betty Crocker. Arguably the most successful corporate food spokesperson ever invented, Betty Crocker has been advising women on how to cook, bake, and hostess since 1921. She was created by a Minneapolis milling company (that would later become General Mills) to answer customers’ letters about baking. “Betty” was chosen because it was a friendly name; “Crocker” was the last name of a recently retired executive. A secretary who won an internal contest among female employees created the signature Betty still uses today.

THE HOST(ESS) WITH THE MOST(EST)

Our favorite chapter in the spiral-bound
Betty Crocker’s Hostess Cookbook
—besides “Gay Supper Parties”—is the advice for the “Hostess on Her Own”: “No one will deny that the greatest asset any hostess can have is an obliging husband. But lacking this advantage, it’s still possible for a girl on her own to earn her stripes as a party-giver”; as long as you “avoid a roast or bird that needs to be carved” as “this is really a man’s domain.” (We’re guessing Gloria Steinem, even in her Playboy Bunny days, didn’t have a lot of Betty Crocker parties. . . .) Hostesses (hosts, be damned!) are also reminded to stock up ashtrays (“There should be an
ashtray, maybe two, on every table, chest, and sideboard—in fact, on every surface.”), and to dress in “a simple costume”—“nothing too tight.” Amen, Betty!

Here are some other suggestions . . . of our own:

DO . . . DRESS UP FOR DINNER

For any Sixties meal, big or small, dress as if you were going to eat at a fine restaurant—because you are! Even the most humble apartment can sub for the Four Seasons if you bring the right amount of elegance, attitude, and dress the part. No hats at the table, costume jewelry (if not actual pearls) are a must, and we highly recommend you invest in a few flirty or “Kiss the Cook” aprons.

DON’T. . . SERVE HUMONGOUS PORTIONS

The secret to staying slim back then was part girdle and part portion control. Since the Sixties, our standard serving size of everything from pasta to coffee has doubled, and our plates have kept pace. Dinnerware in the Sixties was 30 percent smaller than it is today. Like Volkswagen, think small.

DO . . . EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED (GUESTS)

When word gets out that you’re having a Sixties party, expect the uninvited. If you prepare a couple extra entrées, you’ll be sure to have enough for friends of friends who drop by unannounced.

DON’T . . . TRY AND DRINK LIKE A DRAPER

If you or your guests try and drink like you think they do on the Sixties-set television show
Mad Men
, your liver will not be amused. Like food portions, drinks have gotten supersized over the years. Sixties glasses were smaller and thinner, so each time an ad man knocked a straight-up martini back, it was only a percentage of what is typically served today. Today’s martini glass averages eight to nine ounces; a cocktail glass in the Sixties held about five ounces when
filled to overflowing. Allowing for filling the glass about four-fifths full, no matter how you do the math, there is a lot more booze in today’s “up” drinks. And today’s on-the-rocks glasses are pretty spacious too.

Actor Jon Hamm recently told Conan O’Brien about the perils of being recognized as
Mad Men’
s Don Draper when he’s in a bar: “I get sent over bourbon in these tankers . . . human beings can’t drink that much bourbon! I don’t think they realize what I’m drinking on the show is not bourbon. It’s tea, or water with food coloring in it.”

Retro-sized Sixties barware will bring a big benefit to your cocktails: the smaller amount of liquid they hold is more likely to stay chilled while you drink it, which is how it was meant to be. In today’s goldfish bowl–sized glasses, your martini is warm by the time you finish it. Look for the smaller glasses online or on the top shelf of your grandfather’s bar in the rumpus room.