[2024-04-12] They won't be coming back
Every few months, my daughter pulls the Company's Coming Easy Entertaining cookbook off the shelf, and we peruse the recipes and photos. The book purports to have been published in the late '90s, but the recipes and photos harken back to the '70s, when people cooked with Lipton's Onion Soup Mix, crushed Kellogg's Corn Flakes, and Dream Whip (which came in two envelopes per box).
Mel will often open the book to a random page and ask, "If you had to eat something from this page, what would you choose?" We then each look for the least offensive recipe on the page.
- Mashed Turnip Mallow, made with turnip, instant potato flakes and miniature marshmallows? Ew!
- Cucumber Mousse, made with cucumber, lemon-flavoured gelatin, sour cream and salad dressing? Yuck!
- Spiced Plum Pork Chops, made with pork chops, apples, and strained plums (aka baby food)? Seriously?
Sometimes, we're unable to find a single thing we'd be willing to try.
The book's subtitle is Flair Without Fuss. The Without Fuss part sounds accurate, as many of the dishes use processed ingredients. But the Flair part is highly debatable.
After we had looked at the recipe book over dinner this evening, I said to Mel:
— "If this is what they serve to company, what do they give to their family?"
— "If company's coming and you use this cookbook, they won't be coming back!" she quipped. I burst out laughing.
I could get rid of this cookbook, but it is entertaining—not in the sense of being a worthwhile reference for recipes that I would ever contemplate serving to company, let alone my family. Rather it's entertaining in the sense of being unintentionally funny, given how questionable most of the recipes sound.
