Of course, more than a real cookbook, this was a multi-page ad for FlexVac of New Jersey who made their living sealing cold cuts and other perishable products into slick, plastic shrouds. They got themselves a star to sell their meat cozies, and they produced this book.
It’s rather bizarre. Taking into account that the worlds of cuisine and food styling have changed over the last sixty years, it’s still quite odd and quasi revolting. There are some perfectly normal things, like Eggs Benedict (which employs packaged ham to its fullest) and, then, there are…
Well, let’s look. Shall we?
“I’m Arlene Francis. Before I take my Lucy Ricardo dress to go see Dorothy Kilgallen, I like to bring her a basket full of vacuum-sealed meats. She loves the cold cuts, you know. I just know that she and I will be friends until we’re both really old. Here’s to Dorothy Kilgallen and here’s to my friends at FlexVac! I love packaged meat! How delightful.”
“This looks normal. Right? It’s breakfast. Nothing strange here at all. How delightful.”
“I love to eat pudding in my living room. Look! Someone made a pineapple totem poll! How delightful!”
“Even artificial birds in whimsical cages love a good loaf. This loaf of an unidentifiable meat has been wrapped in fat! I love loaf! And these Long Island Iced Teas help it go down really smoothly. How delightful!”
“Nothing says ‘Midnight in Manhattan’ like an elegant tureen filled with beans and carefully-arranged, dissected wieners. I’m sure my guests won’t recoil in horror when they see this. How delightful!”
“When my friends at FlexVac asked me to write this book, I jumped at the chance. Whatever did we do before we had the pleasures of vacuum-sealed meat? It’s delightful. Right?”
No time for cooking
7 comments:
Ah yes, the 60's a time for franks and beans and silver tureens. The New York skyline is the perfect backdrop for such a gourmet delight.I just hope Bennet Cerf didn't drip mustard on his good silk tie.
Hilarious! "How delightful!"
I laughed coffee right out my nose.
Thanks, all!
Maybe it's just me but that pineapple seems to be looking hungrily at Ms. Francis. Wasn't this the era of pods containing humans, malignant jello and trans-specie fly-men?
It might have been photoed in the process of becoming Paul Lynde.
You're quite right, I think. Having devoured Carolyn Jones, the Paul Lynde monster is about to ingest Miss Francis for sustenance and wardrobe advice. Perhaps this is what really happened to Dorothy Kilgallen.
Darcy, I think that Arlene Francis always had a special bib ready for Mr. Cerf.
Post a Comment