the good old days

A couple months back, Kitchen Retro posted this advertisement for Nitey Nite. Squinting shows that the company offered patterns that the creative mother could use to make her children’s nice, warm, normal sleepwear into fruits or vegetables — a watermelon and radish, respectively.

Now, I’m not a crazy obsessive crafter. Indeed, I don’t manage to turn out more than about six projects a year. But I do make my kids Halloween costumes. This started a few years ago, out of frustration more than anything else.

When my daughter was born, I joined a baby group. All the mothers had their first children with a couple months of each other, so it was a great way to hang around with people going through the same childrearing problems at the same time. I got equal sympathy over stressful days at work from both the working and at-home moms; they were all very supportive of whatever your job situation was, all except for one… we’ll call her Martha.

Martha was nice enough, but had a compulsion to turn every conversation towards how she was totally amazing and coped with so much to make her house a wonderful place to live. She’d ask how my day at work had gone, and I’d end up hearing about cupcakes she baked with her daughter that morning, and how wonderful it was to be home all the time. Whether she meant to or not, she was incredibly judgmental towards the other moms who weren’t — for a wide range of reasons — unemployed. And it pissed me off.

So when Martha started talking about Halloween costumes in August, I made my stand. I bought a pattern and fabric and spent two months making the worlds most beautiful witch costume ever — purple satin underdress, poofy purple and black tulle skirt, and a black satin overvest. It was fucking awesome. We bought a pointy hat and a little broom and she was just the prettiest witch ever. Martha’s daughter handmade costume — a cute leopard print shirt, sewn-on tail, and headband with kitty cat ears — was adorable, but uninspired. That’s right, I can optimize a production process all day and still make a better costume than you when I get home, bitch!

Ignoring my incredibly immature motivation, I’m pretty pleased with the witch costume. My daughter has worn it three times now. Last year I made my son a black cat costume so he’d match big sister. This year, she suggested he be a pickle instead.

And that’s how I’m neatly tying in my competitive costuming obsession with vintage sleepwear ads. See how totally awesome that tie-in was? I can search for engineering jobs on Monster all day and still write a better blog post about toddler pickle costumes than you, Martha!

Speaking of legumes during the Depression years…

I found this YouTube clip via Vegan Lunch Box. (I don’t remember how I found that blog, since I’m not a vegan, but anyway.) This video is totally awesome. Not only do you learn how to make Pasta with Peas, you hear a cool story about the Depression and bootleggers.

“It’s not expensive, and it’s nourishing” — the two centrally important features of Depression cooking.

So this is my heavily paraphrased transcription of Clara’s Pasta with Peas recipe.

Dice a potato. Dice an onion. Fry them in some oil for a while. Add water and let simmer. Add can of peas (including liquid). Add pasta. Add tomato sauce if you feel like it. Cook for a while. Eat.

This appeals to my haphazard cooking technique, because it’s rather vague about quantities. It means that while my engineering side is huddled in the corner sobbing because she needs defined limits on how much water to pour in, my disorganized side is cheerfully throwing things in the pot in the optimistic belief that it will turn out just fine. In things such as soups or stir fry, Engineering Side can just go dither somewhere else, we don’t need her right now. (I prefer the theory that a balanced approach to life is very healthy, as opposed to a sign of advanced MPD.)

The hardest part was cutting the potatoes and onions into pieces. And that’s really not that hard.

I added some turkey bacon because it has been in my fridge too long, really needed to be eaten, and I figured it would help round out the dish.

Dump in a couple cups of water, peas, and dry pasta, then go sit somewhere for 10 minutes while it simmers. This is incredibly easy.

It’s delicious. It didn’t need the turkey bacon (although the nice salty bits of meat did add variety). And it was totally awesome rewarmed the next day for lunch. Inexpensive, delicious, and with lots of room for variation — this is a totally great recipe. (And you’ll notice it was just a recipe that somebody made up, NOT some ridiculous concoction from Imaginary Expert at International Food Corp. That probably explains why it’s so edible.)

Photo from the always fun Shorpy

Apparently, National Apple Week didn’t give enough attention to apples. Now, they have an entire quarter — three whole months.

Originally founded in 1904 as National Apple Week, it was expanded in 1996 to a three-month promotional window from September through November. National Apple Month’s mission is to increase apple industry sales, and to enhance consumer awareness and usage of apples and apple products.

This really seems a bit excessive. Yes, anybody CAN declare any period of time to be in honor of something, so apples are certainly eligible. However, when you devote a whole season to it, there’s nothing really special about it anymore. Feel the excitement, it’s still National Apple Celebration Time and it’s not over yet. (More sensible apple producer associations seem to restrict Apple Month to October.)

Nevertheless, the title “King of Fruits” seems rather appropriate. Apple juice is the base of most fruit juices and fruit leathers; it’s very omnipresent. And the kids are both excited that it’s Farmers Market day, because we’ll be buying more fresh apples. Since my son and I both hate bananas, apples are definitely the best toddler food around.

Since the New Depression is upon us and we’ll all be eating our own shoes for the foreseeable future, here’s a joke to help you enjoy the lean times.

Old Man Clackett was getting pretty long in the tooth. Sensing that his dying day was near, he figured it was time to confess his wrongdoings to those he’d sinned against.

“Maw Clackett, you come on in here,” he called to his beloved wife of 61 years. “I got to talk to you.”

Maw Clackett wheeled into the room. “What are you carrying on about, Paw?” she asked.

“It’s time I told you about my old pebble jar, Maw. You see, every time I was unfaithful to you I put a pebble in this here jar.” He showed her the jar, which held three pebbles.

“Well, old man, I reckon that ain’t too bad. To tell the truth, I got a jar of my own. Every time I stepped out on you, I dropped a bean down in it.” She wheeled over to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and pulled a jar out from under the clothes.

Old Man Clackett winced. He hadn’t expected this. “Well then, let’s see it, woman.”

The old man smiled when he saw it. “I have to say I’m a little relieved. Nothing but two beans in that there jar. I can’t carp at you much about that.”

“Well,” said Maw Clackett, “That’s what was left in there after that mess of beans we had during the Depression.”

– via Slashfood

From Page 151 of Junior Home Economics, ca. 1933.

We watched “The Tomb of the Cybermen” last night.  This was one of the few extant Doctor Who stories that I had simply never seen before.  It was missing when I was a kid, and I hadn’t watched the show enough since this serial was rediscovered to have caught it on television.  I was excited about seeing it, since it is one of the very small number of complete stories featuring Patrick Troughton as the Doctor.  (In fact, it is the only complete story from Troughton’s entire first two seasons on the show!)  It’s the earliest complete story with cybermen, and it introduces their athropoid minions the cybermats  My Doctor Who Techical Manual has some beautful production photographs of entombed cybermen, so I was expecting a graphical treat with this serial.

The plot sounds more complicted than it actually is.  The Cybermen begin the story entombed in a frozen honeycomb of cells beneath the remains of one of their outposts on the planet Telos.  A group of explorers from Earth have just uncovered the entrance when the TARDIS arrives.  The explorers attempt to force open the titanic double doors (flanked by nine-foot reliefs of cybermen), only to lose of their number to the first of numerous booby traps.  The Doctor helps the archeologists get past the trap and into the base’s control room.  He figures out that in order to work the controls, they must solve several abstract logical puzzles.  Against the Doctor’s urging, Dr. Eric Kleig, one of the archeologists (who is in open conflict with the man who is supposed to be the leader of the expedition), opens the shaft down into the tomb antechamber.  The Doctor, his male companion Jamie, and most of the team descend into the frigid chambers below, and Kleig’s female accomplice promptly seals them inside (after drugging Victoria, the Doctor’s second companion, who is brand new and extremely ineffectual).  Kleig reveals that his plan is to wake the cybermen (which he does) and make a deal with them.  However, the cybermen (predictably enough) are not interested, and they reveal that the reason they had protected their tomb with logic puzzles was to ensure that only the most intelligent interlopers would make it inside.  The interlopers are then to have their brains operated on to remove fear and robotic enhancements added to their bodies; they are to become the next race of cybermen.  However, the present group of intruders does manage to escape and to reseal the cybermen underground, although they leave behind Toberman, the strongest member of the team, who promptly gets partially fitted with cybernetic enhancements and some kind of mind control device.  Unfortunately, Kleig is unwilling to give up his treachery and lets the Cyber Controller, leader of the Telos cybermen, out.  The man-mountain Toberman accompanies the cybernetic warlord, but it seems that Toberman is not yet completely in the thrall of the cybermen.  With his innate strength and new robotic arm, he overpowers Cyber Controller in several one-on-one engagements, giving the Doctor and his allies time to seal the complex up again, so the cybermen might never escape.

Of course, they did eventually escape.  This was the second Doctor’s second cyberman story already, and he had two more coming.  Counting “The Tenth Planet,” William Hartnell’s final appearance, there were five stories with cybermen in seasons four through six!  They were obviously pretty popular.

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed with this story.  When I was a kid, “Tomb of the Cybermen” was one of the most famous missing classics.  It was recovered in 1992, when a TV station in Hong Kong discovered a copy they had rented from the BBC in the early 1970s, and was released on DVD with great fanfare.  I’m not sure what was supposed to be so special about this episode.  The tomb itself, five stories high, filled with living cybermen in suspended animation, who wake and shear through the protective bubbles that have contained them, is as impressive as my Techincal Manual made it look.  But the rest of the visual design is pretty uninspired.  The regular cybermen appear threatening, but Controller’s costume can only be desribed as ridiculous.  He has a pointed dome atop his metal helmet, which was supposed to look like it contained a glowing brain.  When Cyber Controller returned in “Attack of the Cybermen” (played by the same actor, Michael Kilgarrf), the costumers dispensed with the brain look and simply gave the controller an extra-large pointed helmet.  However, when the new race of cybermen in “The Age of Steel” created their new Controller, they went back to the retro exposed cerebrum.

Moreover, most of the action takes place in a very small number of rooms, in what really ought to be a much larger complex.  I realize the budget was small, but in some episodes, the production team was able to create a much greater impression of space.  And after halfway through the first episode, there aren’t even any more outside shots of Telos (until “Attack of the Cybermen,” which did its shooting in the same quarry).

Finally, Patrick Troughton was the first Doctor that I ever met, and he was an amazing character in person.  He took off his pants on stage!  (It turned out he had “accidentally” worn his Doctor Who costume pants underneath them, but he really made people in the audience think that he was about to strip down to his underdrawers.)  There are very few Troughton episodes extent, but in those that I’ve seen (such as “The Mind Robber“), the second Doctor possesses a crazy energy; and in “The Three Doctors,” the first Doctor characterizes his immediate replacement as a “clown.”  Yet there was very little of that in this story.  There are occasionally flashes of the the second Doctor’s distinctive persona, but the only real moment when the Doctor’s character really seemed to be interesting comes near the end.  The Doctor takes a moment to indulge Klieg’s megalomaniacal fantasies, sending the villain into an ecstatic fit, before the Doctor pronounces that he’s now eliminated any lingering doubts that Klieg is an utter madman.

As I’ve said, this episode was rather a disappointment.  The cybermen were not very threatening, and were overpowered by nothing more than main force.  They weren’t even the most important villains; that was Kleig and his faction.  There were certainly moments; I watched the scene of the tomb unfreezing and the cybermen stirring in their cells over and over.  Some of the special effects were quite innovative.  They used static electric discharges, overlain on film of action scenes, to portray the cybermen’s energy weapons.  Even better, I thought, was the similar use of oscilloscope traces to represent mind control waves.  Yet this is never going to be among my favorite Doctor Who stories, and I’d like to think it wasn’t the second Doctor’s best work either.

Apparently Home Ec was a joke even back in the 50’s, when I would have thought it was everyone’s ideal. However, Why Study Home Economics? from 1955 seems intended to convince students that they should sign up for home ec, which in turn implies that many of them wouldn’t have wanted to.

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Best part of the film?

Janice: But what if I don’t get married? What good will all this do me then?
Teacher: Well [patronizing chuckle], that’s something for you to consider, all right! You might not get married! Not right away, at least.

It’s used as a segue to describe higher-level home economics study which is available in college, and possible careers which are open to somebody with home economics knowledge. But it also emphasizes the underlying theme of the film, that women were going to grow up to be housewives and they’d better learn how to manage things well.

I theoretically support the idea of home economics classes in general. Kids should learn the basics of taking care of themselves as adults. Whether you’re going to be a janitor or a CEO, you ought to know how to toast a piece of bread, understand milk needs to be refrigerated, budget your expenses, and re-attach a button to your shirt if it pops off.

A lot of skills you will learn at home, but not all of it. For example, my mother was a shockingly bad cook. My father was much more competent, but uninspired (spaghetti, sandwiches, and scrambled eggs are his specialties). Disastrous gelatin recipes aside, I’m not half bad at cooking. However, a fair bit of anxiety could have been averted if I’d had a high school home ec course which provided some basics. Cookery really is just a matter of putting stuff together and heating it somehow, but you need a level of self-confidence to be willing to start trying. Some people get that from a lifetime of cooking with family members. Some people get it after being bad at it for years but needing to try to keep from starving. Few get it from classes anymore.

Oh yes — and the boys should be forced to learn just as much as the girls

This week’s retro cooking was inspired largely by comments on Historiann’s post about my Not-So-Orange Velvet Pie. I’d never heard of the Mock Apple Pie which was mentioned by a few people, and I was intrigued.

Apparently, the mock apple pie was invented in 1852 by pioneers who missed apple pie, but didn’t have the critical apple ingredient. It must have taken quite a creative cook to figure out the right balance of carbs, acid, sugar, and stuff, but they managed to work out a convincing imitation. During the Great Depression, apples were expensive and crackers were cheap, so Mock Apple Pie enjoyed a resurgence — helped along, no doubt, by Ritz Cracker advertising the recipe on the box.

While the current Slightly Less Great Depression isn’t likely to make apples unaffordable, I decided to try Mock Apple Pie this week in solidarity with my 20th century forebears who probably couldn’t afford apples at some point. (Actually, in that era my family included a NY State Senator on one side, and Boston socialites on the other. They could afford apples. But by my generation all the money has pretty much dried up, wasted on expensive apples. Priorities…)

Um, anyway, here’s the Ritz Mock Apple Pie recipe.

Pastry for two-crust 9-inch pie
36 RITZ Crackers, coarsely broken (about 1 3/4 cups crumbs)
1-3/4 cups water
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Grated peel of one lemon
2 tablespoons margarine or butter
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Roll out half the pastry and line a 9-inch pie plate. Place cracker crumbs in prepared crust; set aside.

Heat water, sugar and cream of tartar to a boil in saucepan over high heat; simmer for 15 minutes. Add lemon juice and peel; cool.

Pour syrup over cracker crumbs. Dot with margarine or butter; sprinkle with cinnamon. Roll out remaining pastry; place over pie. Trim, seal and flute edges. Slit top crust to allow steam to escape.

Bake at 425°F for 30 to 35 minutes or until crust is crisp and golden. Cool completely.

It was tempting to go with an original pioneer version.

Bet I have learned to make a new kind of Pie I think you all would like them they taste just like an apple pie make some and try them see if you dont love them. Take a teaspoon heaping full of tartarlic [sic] acid and dissolve it in water a teasp [sic] full of sugar and stir it in the acid then take cold biscuit or light bread and crumble in it. have enough to make to [sic] pies put it in a crust and one over it and bake it they are fully as good as Apple pies the spoonful of acid and cup of sugar is enough to make two pies

Charming, but a bit vague on the quantities. While I’m an advocate of casual measurement rather than obsessive accuracy, there’s too much difference between a teasp and a cup for even my loose standards.

While cooking, my first problem was that the sugar syrup boiled over while boiling, and burned on the stovetop. Luckily, we have one of those flat range thingies (easy to clean), but it made a very smokey mess. (And since I was worried about setting the kitchen on fire, I completely forgot the cinnamon.) My second problem was that the sugar syrup boiled over while baking and made a big smokey mess in the oven.

Oy what a mess. Luckily, I have a “self-cleaning” oven, and it’s rather overdue for a self-cleaning anyway.

When the syrup first boiled over, Buzz called downstairs to compliment me on the delicious caramel smell that was wafting upstairs. He was a bit less pleased with the smell when he actually came into the kitchen. (The house reeked of burnt sugar for about six hours. Oops.)

But I’m sure you don’t care whether my house is destroyed, you want to know how this pie turned out! Well, here it is! (I apologize for the blindingly white plate underneath. I finished this late at night, it was dark, the flash was uncooperative…)

Looks pretty good, right?

Even the inside looks like apple pie.

I frankly can’t think of many situations in which one would be forced to make this. Vegans can eat apples, I don’t know of any apple allergies, and apples are incredibly affordable. The recipe is definitely a curiosity more than a necessity nowadays. But what really surprised me: it tastes like apple pie. It helps if you haven’t recently eaten a good apple pie, because it’s not quite the same. While surprisingly accurate (if you’re picturing apple pie with extremely small pieces of apple), it’s just not quite perfect… it reminds me of what cheap mass-produced fruit “pie” snack makers think apple pie filling should taste like. But I can definitely imagine a poor apple-less pioneer mother being overjoyed to be able to make this for her homesick, sobbing children.

My only caveat is to make sure your bottom crust is fresh(ish), instead of one that’s been sitting in your freezer for a year. Mine had freezer burn and cracks, so the syrup leaked all over the inside of the pie plate and glued everything in place. The crust matters here more than in other pies.

The Hoosier Journal of Inanity, in addition to having a good blog title, has been posting screenshots from various Harryhausen movies for the last few days.

You may not recognize the name, but you’ve almost certainly seen at least one of his movies. Ray Harryhausen was responsible for the truly great stop-motion animations of his time — or really any time. Jason and the Argonauts, any of the Sinbad movies, First Men in the Moon, The Lost Valley… all were Harryhausen. CGI has nothin ‘ on this guy. Not only were his models creative and believable, they moved realistically.

It’s not a monster movie until a dragon and a cyclops fight each other. Aw yeah.

A fun YouTube compilation of Harryhausen animations:

So bad at math, in fact, that a team of six women were the ones who programmed ENIAC.

The first programmers started out as “Computers.” This was the name given by the Army to a group of over 80 women working at the University of Pennsylvania during World War II calculating ballistics trajectories — complex differential equations — by hand. When the Army agreed to fund an experimental project, the first all-electronic digital computer, six “Computers” were selected in 1945 to be its first programmers. They were Kathleen McNulty Mauchly Antonelli, Jean Jennings Bartik, Frances Snyder Holberton, Marlyn Wescoff Meltzer, Frances Bilas Spence and Ruth Lichterman Teitelbaum.
– Women In Technology International (WITI)

Jean Jennings Bartik, who would later continue her groundbreaking programming work on later machines such as BINAC and UNIVAC I, will receive a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Computer History Museum today. She’s going to give a lecture about her experiences tomorrow — I would seriously love to be able to attend, because no doubt it would be a fascinating exploration of women in the early days of modern science and engineering. Unfortunately there’s a whole continent between South Carolina and California.