economy drumsticks

for the first day of the new year, an old secret

the smell of old books and a woodstove is about all we need, the sweetie and me, to lure us in. if there is snow outside and an old dog inside and the guy behind the counter talks to us about the books we're holding like they are men he knew and lost during the war, we will stay forever, sniffing the smells of stories and maps and photos of people dead fifty years. we buy little pieces of all that other time and as a result we live surrounded by shelves and stacks of a past that's always whispering to us. little bits of phrases will fall from a page and drag whole wars or explorations or sufferings right up into our hands.

a dollar buys me a ten cent magazine from january of 1941 called the cook's digest. subtitled "of all that is good". and indeed, this is exactly what is inside. there are too many wonderful things to look at all at once, but i will tell you there are recipes, two to a page, set up so you can cut them out and keep them, index card size, in your recipe box. in the middle of all this, on two facing pages, sit menus for a week's worth of luncheons and dinners.

the sweetie sits on the couch this first day of the year, reading over the menus, looking for something worth trying. it is saturday's dinner menu he comes back to in the end. the one that starts with pineapple juice. the sides are tomato spanish rice and baked bananas with marshmallows. i am on board for this right away. dessert is an orange chiffon pie, made up of jello and eggs and misery, but i will count my bananas as dessert if i must. there is coffee to be served with the pie but it is the entree that the sweetie can't quite figure out. economy drumsticks. recipe 58. at first we figure they're drumsticks you'd buy in an economy bag, hundreds of bumpy legs, but folks didn't buy and sell chicken in parts back before the war. it is the tail end of the great depression and just a year before pearl harbor so we know economy drumsticks will be curious. the sweetie turns to recipe 58.

economy drumsticks 

this recipe serves 4

                       8 strips american cheese (2 oz.)               1 1/2 tsp. grated onion

                       1/2 lb. twice-ground beef                         1 1/4 tsp. salt

                       1/2 lb. twice-ground pork                         few grains pepper

                       1/2 cup pet milk                                       1/3 cup pet milk

                       2 1/2 tbsp. fine cornflake crumbs             uncooked macaroni

cut american cheese into strips 1/4 x 1/4 x 2 1/2 inches long. mix together beef, pork, pet milk, corn flake crumbs, grated onion, salt and pepper. when thoroughly mixed, divide into 8 portions. with wet fingers shape into oblongs the shape of a drumstick, placing a stick of cheese in the center of each and taking care to cover the cheese with meat. dip, one at a time, in pet milk. as each "drumstick" is dipped in milk roll it at once in fine corn flake crumbs. brown slowly on all sides in 1/4 inch hot fat. drain on unglazed paper. insert in ends of "drumsticks" pieces of uncooked macaroni, 3 inches long. garnish the ends of the macaroni with paper frills, if desired.
                                                                                          courtesy of the pet milk company

there is a recipe for chipped beef on toast. souffles of chicken and turkey calling for piles and piles of stale bread crumbs. canned lunch meat with a can of cranberry sauce and corn syrup. casseroles full of crackers and canned cream soups. there is cabbage everywhere, recipes designed around stale breads and crackers. this is the food of poverty. the food of rationing and saving and using everything, passed down to those in less dire straits as comfort food. the food of family.

this morning we have bear sausage for breakfast and i know how much a mocha costs. there is saffron cheese in the fridge and the bourbon on the shelf ferments in cypress tanks and grows up in charred oak barrels. but i know who i am and where i came from, a home with chipped beef on toast. the sweetie knows who he is, too. we are looking for gluten-free corn flakes. the gluten-free macaroni is already in the cupboard.