Better Homes and Gardens Guide to Entertaining. New York: Meredith Books, 1969.
My favorite book about entertaining is, without a doubt, Elsa Maxwell’s How to Do It, but the Better Homes and Gardens Guide to Entertaining has its moments too. Published in 1969, it covers everything from picking the right guests (“a party revolving around touch football would be inappropriate for your elderly friends”) to the setting (“You can even decorate the garage, carport, or attic, for parties if you wish”) and, of course, the menu (“if you’ve invited foreign guests–their religion will often determine what they can eat”). Relentlessly upbeat, it promises a “comprehensive treatment of all elements of entertaining so that you may find the answer to any hostessing problem.” The solutions they suggest to these problems resemble, at best, the set of a Douglas Sirk movie and, at worst, a Jell-O and maraschino cherry fueled nightmare. I think this table setting falls squarely in the center of that continuum:
Continue reading “Pickle-Sickles” and Other “Colorful” Treats
Lowinsky, Ruth. Lovely Food: A Cookery Notebook. London: The Nonesuch Press, 1931. 8vo. 127pp
Published in 1931, Lovely Food was the work of an English socialite and hostess, Ruth Lowinsky. Her husband, Thomas, was a Surrealist painter, and they collaborated on the book. She wrote the menus and the recipes; he drew centerpieces to go with them. Lowinsky’s emphasis was more on entertaining than on cooking; many of the recipes are mere outlines. When preparing clear mushroom consommé, she simply tells the reader to “make a good consommé,” neglecting to go into what that might actually involve. The result is recipes that read more like instructions from mistress to cook than tips for a novice in the kitchen. The references to servants sprinkled throughout the book make it seem likely that this is, in fact, what Lowinsky had in mind.
Lowinsky, merits at the stove aside, was clearly an energetic and entertaining hostess. The menus in the book are all centered around witty, and occasionally improbable, dining scenarios. In one, she imagines that the reader’s stuffy father-in-law is coming to dinner, “prepared to judge you as either the laziest housekeeper in Europe, or the most extravagant, or even a subtle combination of the two.” Under the circumstances, she suggests consommé, smelts, chicken, meringues, and a centerpiece that looks like it might have been made from a slinky:
Continue reading The Laziest Housekeeper in Europe
