Book Review: Hsa*ba

Burmese food blends the pungent sweet-sour flavors of Chinese Southeast Asian cuisine with the robust aromatics of the Indian subcontinent. While there are a handful of Burmese cookbooks on the market, one need look no further than hsa*ba (2008), written by Tin Cho Chaw, a Rangoon native currently living in the UK.  The author translates the Burmese greeting, "hsa ba" as "please eat," and with this sentiment, the reader is invited to partake in 100 family recipes including street snacks and festival dishes.

Hsa*ba feels like a very personal collection of recipes and is interspersed with brief essays on specific places and dishes. The book opens with savory snacks such as pea crackers--delicate fried wafers dotted with yellow split peas-- naan bread, and Myanmar's signature laphet thote, or pickled tea leaf salad, and follows with chapters devoted to ingredients as well as many noodle and rice dishes.  A chapter on condiments provides some essential Burmese meal accompaniments, garnishes, and dips including sour chilli dip, spicy bean curd and peanut sauce, and pickled vegeatbles.  While maintaining the integrity of the dish, hsa*ba adapts dishes for which the main ingredient is impossible to find outside of Myanmar.  A recipe for shauk dhi thote, ordinarily made with shauk thi, a native citrus, is thus reworked as lemon relish, or thambayo dhi thote.

Every dish I've prepared from this book has turned out just as described; the instructions are clear and thorough.  My favorite recipe in hsa*ba is for ohn nyot khaut swe, coconut noodle soup, reminiscent of Malay/Indonesian laksa, a spicy coconut curry broth served with noodles and eggs, for which I had never found a good recipe.  As I don't eat meat I replaced the chicken in this recipe with firm tofu and used my favorite vegetable stock as a soup base.  Even with these adjustments the dish was as complex and rich as some of the best laksa I've ever eaten.

Pain Au Cumin: Cumin and Other Members of the Parsley Family in French Pastry

In preparing the last post on pains au chocolat, I came across a recipe for petits pains au cumin, or cumin rolls, in Urbain-Dubois's, La Boulangerie d'Aujourd'hui (1933).  Although cumin has a long history in European cuisine and is often seen in recipes from the Medieval period, particularly in Northern and Eastern Europe, I was not familiar with its use in French breads and desserts.  Yet, no description or explanation of the bread prefaced the recipe, suggesting that cumin was a known and perhaps common flavoring for bread.  Intrigued by the use of this pungent spice in baked goods, I looked for other examples in late 19th and early 20th century cookbooks and found cumin to be a popular flavoring in spice cakes and breads.  Known in both English and French as 'cumin', Cuminum cyminum is native to the Mediterranean and Mesopotamian regions.  A member of the parsley family, cumin is related to caraway and fennel, both of which are sometimes called 'faux cumin' and said to be interchangeable if not on hand for recipes calling for one of these spices.  Caraway, or Carum carvi, is a European native commonly known as caraway in English, but referred to in French variously as 'carvi', 'cumin des prés' (wild cumin), or often simply 'cumin'.  

According to Dictionnaire Universel du Pain (2010), caraway's most common bread association is in the Polish pain au cumin, which is described as a rye bread.  The dictionary further clarifies that this use of the word 'cumin' is not to be confused with true cumin, typically found in Arab cuisine.  Yet the French recipes I consulted did not use rye flour, but rather a gluten-rich pastry four.

In Le Livre de Patisserie (1873), cumin is a prominent ingredient in both Gâteau de Compiègne and Manqué, both molded cakes made with a rich, sweet dough and flavored with dried fruit or spices.   Cumin is used similarly in Lina Rytz's La Bonne Cuisinière Bourgeoise (1868) in a recipe for Gâteau au Cumin. Since I did not find any mention of caraway among the recipes in these 19th century cookbooks, it was not clear whether the spice in use was Cuminum cyminum, native to the Mediterranean and Mesopotamian regions, or its eponym, the more mild and domestically available caraway.

Manuel de L'Épicier (1904), a treatise on spices by Léon Arnou, collocates cumin with Dutch cheeses and German breads and German and Russian liqueurs. Arnou also notes that caraway is used in some patisseries in the North and in a variety of other food preparations.  This likely includes the Alsace region, where caraway seeds often accompany cheese.  In the household book, Un Ménage Bourgeois (1892), E. Heilmann, a chemist, refers to both cumin and cumin des prés in the preparation of liqueurs.  But it was in the Dictionnaire Universel de Cuisine Pratique (1905) by Joseph Favre that I found mention of cumin in association with bread.  An entry on batonnets, or breadsticks, mentions that in the North these are made with cumin.  This may reference true cumin, as Favre specifically differentiates between cumin and cumin des prés elsewhere in the book, stating that cumin is used in bread in many European countries, particularly in the North.  Yet Favre describes the other members of the parsley family--including nigella and caraway--as varieties of cumin, thus confirming the use of 'cumin' as a general term for various members of the parsley family.  While I could not find a definite answer to whether true cumin was used in bread, it seems likely that this spice was employed at times, as was caraway and fennel, in the breads and cheeses of Germany and other countries in Northern Europe.  The author of a 1930 travel article in La Femme de France, a French women's magazine, describes pain au cumin as an everyday bread, seen on the streets of Germany.  I've provided an adaptation of the recipe from La Boulangerie d'Aujourd'hui and recommend making half with cumin and half with caraway.

Recipe

Petits Pains Au Cumin, adapted from La Boulangerie d'Aujourd'hui (1933)

1 litre milk
50g yeast (assuming this to be baker's yeast, this should convert to roughly 2 packets of dry yeast--1/2 oz. total)
150g butter, softened
2 eggs, beaten
2 egg yolks, beaten
cumin and caraway
1 tsp salt
all-purpose flour


1. Heat the milk until warm, pour into a large bowl and sprinkle yeast over surface.  Stir until yeast is dissolved.  Mix in softened butter, eggs, and salt.  Add a cup of flour, stir to combine, and gradually mix in additional flour, about a 1/2 cup at a time, stirring after each addition of flour until the liquid is absorbed and you have a shaggy dough.

2. Knead until the dough is smooth and soft, about 10 minutes.  Cover with a cloth and rise until doubled in volume.  Preheat oven at 400-425°F.  Form dumpling-sized balls with the dough or shape into small logs.

3. Arrange on a greased pan and let rise again, covered with cloth.  Brush with beaten eggs and sprinkle with cumin seeds.  Bake for 20 to 25 minutes.

Elizabeth David and the Mystery of Petits Pains au Chocolat

The pain au chocolat one sees in bakery displays in and outside of France is made with a flaky puff pastry dough also used for the crescent, or croissant.  I've always found the combination of puff pastry and chocolate a bit too rich and cloying.  If you've ever dipped a French baguette in melted chocolate, you might agree that a crusty bread dough, made without butter fat, is a much better match.   In her inspired classic, English Bread and Yeast Cookery (1977), Elizabeth David (1913-1992) describes her memory of petits pains au chocolat while in Paris in the early 1930s:

When I allowed myself time, I could stop to buy a pain chocolat to eat in the tram on which I travelled from Passy to the Boulevard Saint Michel to attend lectures at the Sorbonne.  The chocolate in these rolls-- I have remembered it all my life-- was of that rough and gritty quality which no longer exists in France because the chocolate merchants have perfected their machinery to the point where all their products emerge smooth, bland, shining and uniform.  And nowadays, the bakers use their second-best flaky pastry or third-quality croissant dough to make their pains chocolat.

According to David, prior to World War II, French bakers typically used a simple bread dough to encase the bars of chocolate, and not puff pastry.  By the 1970s, when English Bread and Yeast Cookery was written, David observed that in France, this dough had been replaced with a lesser quality puff pastry, a shift she confirms by consulting recipes from "old French books on bread."  Since David does not cite which books she consulted or provide a publication date, it is difficult to determine whether she simply means pre-war cookbooks from the early twentieth century or earlier examples.  At what point in history did the chocolate rolls David describes arrive in French bakeries, and when did the the version made with croissant dough come to characterize the typical pains au chocolat?

A survey of the petits pains au chocolat in nineteenth century cookbooks suggest a different style of chocolate dessert.  For instance, in the 1868 cookbook, La bonne cuisinière bourgeoise, by Lina Rytz née Dick, a recipe for pains au chocolat instructs one to blend chocolate into a dough with sugar and egg yolks.  Stiffly beaten egg whites are then folded in, aerating the dough.  Almond flour is then incorporated and finally the mixture is baked in a buttered form.  This seems to be more in the style of pain à la duchesse and pain à la reine,  both likely antecedent to today's éclair.  It was not until the early 20th century, when a new method of bread baking came to France, that pains au chocolat took on a different meaning in French cookbooks.

Viennese Bread and Pre-WWII Cookbooks

French bread baking underwent significant adaptations in the mid-nineteenth century with the introduction of the Vienna oven, which redistributed the oven's heat through steam injectors and a sloping floor.  It was in conjunction with Vienna bread's yeasted milk dough that I began to notice David's style of pains au chocolat in French cookbooks.  The earliest mention I found of yeasted milk dough came in the 1928 (7th edition) tome, Gastronomie pratique, written by Ali-Bab (Henri Babinski).  The recipe is titled, Petits pains viennois, or Small viennese loaves, and includes flour, yeast, salt, milk and water.  Ali-Bab says they are served at buffets and "les five o'clock tea."

In 1933, a similar recipe for Petits pains au lait appeared in La boulangerie d'aujourd'hui by Urbain Dubois.  According to Dubois, this dough is also known as fougasse, although I'm not sure why, since pain fougasse is a regional French flat bread.  In Dubois's recipe milk powder replaces the milk and butter or margarine and one egg or yellow coloring are added as well.  After this recipe, Dubois describes a variation in which the dough is wrapped around a piece of baker's chocolate.  In the 1935 classic Traité pratique de panification française et parisienne, Émile Dufour explains that pain au chocolat is made with croissant dough or fougasse dough (i.e., pain au lait, or milk bread dough).  Thus, by the mid-1930s chocolate was being added to both croissant and milk dough, although according to David, the Parisian bakeries she frequented preferred the latter.  The pains au chocolat of Elizabeth David's memory were indeed short-lived, lasting only a few decades in the first half of the 20th century.  Fortunately they are easy to prepare.

Making Pains au Chocolat

The recipe below is based on David's and includes some additional points I have found useful. David says to follow the method for preparing English bap dough, found in another chapter, and I've condensed the ingredients with those instructions.  David's original recipe calls for 1/2 oz. of baker's yeast. If you are as naive about yeast as I am you will probably assume that this is a poetic synonym for Fleischmann's dry yeast.  It is not.  As David notes in her chapter on yeast, dry yeast is much more powerful than baker's yeast and as a substitute, one need use only about a half or one third of the amount of baker's yeast listed. Too much yeast yields a dense dough that stales quickly. Another important point: these are by far the most delicious pains au chocolat you may ever try but they must be eaten straight from the oven, so ignore the temptation to double the recipe and save some for later.

Recipe
Petits Pains au Chocolat

1/2 lb unbleached white flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup milk, warmed
1/2 oz. baker's yeast, or 1/4 oz. dry yeast (1 packet)
4 oz. chocolate, divided into eighths (a good quality European milk chocolate or semi-sweet chocolate bar works well)

Glaze (optional but recommended)
2 Tbs milk
2 Tbs sugar

1. Sift the flour and salt in a bowl.  Pour warm milk into a large mixing bowl, sprinkle yeast on top and stir to dissolve.  Test yeast activity with a teaspoon of sugar if necessary.  If active, bubbles will begin to appear within 10 minutes.  Add the sifted flour and mix well.  The dough will be dry and shaggy.  Knead in the bowl or on a clean surface a few times to bring the dough together smoothly.  Do not over knead-- a few times will be sufficient.  Holding the dough in your hands, shape into a smooth ball about the size of a small grapefruit.  Place dough in a large bowl, cover with a lightly dampened cloth and set in a warm spot.  Rise until doubled, about 1 hour.

2. Preheat oven to 400-425°.  Divide dough into eighths.  Roll out and place a piece of chocolate into the center.  Fold the dough over the chocolate, pressing the seams to seal if necessary.  Place on baking sheet, cover with cloth and let rest 15 minutes.  Remove cloth, place tray on center rack in oven and bake 15-20 minutes, until tops are golden.  Meanwhile, prepare the glaze by dissolving the sugar in warm milk.  When the bread is ready, remove from oven. Chocolate will probably have spilled out onto the baking pan-- this is perfectly fine and will be very delicious to eat off the pan. Immediately brush pains with glaze until all glaze has been used.  Serve immediately.


For more on David, see this very informative, thorough, and well written article on Elizabeth David, in the excellent online magazine, British Food in America.

"And the Dish Ran Away With the Spoon": Mythical Foodscapes in Children's Literature Part IV: Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land

In Part III, Raggedy Ann and the Magic Wishing Pebble, many adventures followed when Raggedy Ann found a magic wishing pebble and wished for a magic ice cream soda fountain and a lollipop field. The story takes place in the countryside, a make-believe tale in the setting of the physical real world. In Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land (1931), however, the Raggedys enter a fantasy world composed entirely of cookie dough. Indeed, the setting is strikingly similar to Bunbury, the dough-based village that Dorothy stumbles upon in the Wizard of Oz (1910) discussed in Part II.

Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land begins with a nod to Alice in Wonderland, when Raggedy Ann and Andy fall down a hole in an oak tree while in pursuit of a rabbit. They land in an ice grotto and quickly discover that all of the icicles are made of flavored soda water. As in Alice in Wonderland, when the Raggedys leave the real world (i.e., the nursery to which they belong) their first encounter is with something to consume. It is through this first taste of magic that the adventure begins, for the Raggedys find that the icicle water has gone right through their cotton stuffing, causing them to stick to the grotto's ice floor. As a result, they are at the mercy of Hookie the Goblin, who informs them that he will chop them with an ice pick and make noodle soup out of Raggedy Ann.

After the Raggedys' inevitable escape with the help of a kindly elf named Little Weakie, they enter a door which leads to a giant oven room, filled with the tantalizing smells of a bakery. Despite the group's innocent intentions, they are countered by a strange, stiff man who is very angry at the trespassers and says he will have to put them through a roller. In defense, Little Weakie strikes the man and he breaks in half. It is then that the Raggedys and Little Weakie discover that the man is a cookie man. Feeling very sorry that the man is broken, Raggedy Ann mends him with molasses and decorates him with some candy icing trim so that he looks much smarter. As the cookie man regains consciousness, he is so relieved to have been mended by the kindly group that he takes them home to meet his family-- Mrs. Cookie and their two children. It turns out that the Cookie family is deeply fearful that they or their possessions (all made of cookie dough or candy) will be eaten by interlopers, and are thus relieved when they do meet anyone who does not intend to eat them. It is surprising and unnecessary that anyone should want to eat the cookie people themselves because they are always baking more and more cookies and giving them away. And yet, there are numerous foes, such as Hookie the Goblin, who do attempt to eat the cookie people.

Left to right: Little Weakie, Raggedy Ann, the Howloon, Hookie the Goblin, Raggedy Andy, the Snitznoodle, Mrs. Cookie, and Mr. Cookie.

After arriving at Mr. and Mrs. Cookie's cake house, the Raggedys and Little Weakie sit down to dinner:

"It was a lovely dinner, for Mrs. Cookie had baked a chicken, nice and brown. It wasn't a real-for-sure chicken. It was a cake chicken covered with maple-walnut and chocolate icing to make it look real. And, it was stuffed with chopped cherries and pecan nuts. The gravy for the chicken was chocolate ice cream, just soft enough to pour over it. The Raggedys and Little Weakie enjoyed the dinner very, very much for it had been almost an hour since they had eaten anything. And then they had had only eleven cookies apiece, and those did not have icing on them. So they were quite hungry."

The abundance of food in Cookie Land attracts some very hungry lost souls, some who do not even know they are hungry until they have tasted some of Mrs. Cookie's baked goods. The Snitznoodle, for instance, soon becomes friends with the group. He is clearly not a threat for he says,

"But you know, I never eat anything but wind sandwiches."

"Wind sandwiches?" Raggedy Ann asked.

"I am very fond of them," the Snitznoodle said. "And, as they cost nothing, it keeps my board-bill down to a small amount each month."

The Snitznoodle then demonstrates how to prepare wind sandwiches:

"I'm going to show you how to make wind sandwiches. Then if Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy and Little Weakie ever get hungry they can find supplies almost anywhere."

The Snitznoodle took a knife from his pocket. "See?" he said. "First I cut two thin slices of air. And then I spread a lump of soft wind on each slice of air and place them together and I have a nice wind sandwich."

But when Mrs. Cookie gives the Snitznoodle an ice cream cone he admits,

"My! That is ever so much better than a wind sandwich!"

Having tasted the delicious ice cream cone, the Snitznoodle asks if he can live with the cookie people, who are very happy to welcome him to their home.

The Snitznoodle

In this way, the realities of hunger are very much a part of the story. Written in the early years of the Great Depression in the United States, when many had difficulty affording even basic provisions, the vision of Cookie Land presented children with a make-believe world of plenty where everyone learns to share and so might never be hungry.  Such stories of imaginary food are not unusual in times of strife.

When food is unavailable, it is the food of the mind that can offer a measure of sustenance. As one reader noted in Part III, this brings to mind examples such as the recording of recipes in World War II concentration camps.  This has been preserved in In Memory's Kitchen: A Legacy from the Women of Terezín by Cara De Silva (2006) which collects the recipes transcribed by Jewish women in the Terezín concentration camp in Czechoslovakia.

"And the Dish Ran Away With the Spoon": Mythical Foodscapes in Children's Literature
Part I: Utensia
Part II: Bunbury
Part III: Raggedy Ann and the Magic Wishing Pebble

Blancmange: Affordable Elegance

As promised in my post on the Cream Top Milk Separator, I've tested one of the recipes from the Cream Top booklet-- Vanilla Cornstarch Pudding. Also known as blancmange, this classic white dessert came to be known as vanilla pudding in the United States by the 1930s. The lovely and elegant blancmange was perfectly suited to the Depression era recipes of the Cream Top booklet and its pledge of "luxury without extravagance", as the only ingredients are milk, a small amount of sugar and salt, and cornstarch.  Instead of using cow's milk, I made the recipe with soy milk.  You could also try rice, coconut, or almond milk, from which blancmange has long been prepared, or any other nut milk.  The cornstarch is used for firming and works wonderfully, without adulterating the taste of the pudding.  Although I haven't tried it, I'm sure arrowroot powder would work just as well.  Gelatin is often used in blancmange to create a densely moulded shape but I prefer the soft buoyancy yielded from cornstarch.  For a stiff mould, try using agar-agar instead of gelatin.  Blancmange is a very simple dessert and one of the most satisfying things to eat on a warm day because of its cold, slippery texture.  The taste is light and subtle, much like rice pudding without the rice, and therefore the perfect template on which to experiment, by adding flavors such as rosewater, saffron, and cardamom, or embedding ingredients such as edible flowers in the mould.

Recipe
Vanilla Cornstarch Pudding, adapted from the Cream Top Recipe Booklet

Ingredients

3 Tbs cornstarch
3 cups soy or non-dairy milk (original recipe uses cow's milk)
4 Tbs granulated sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup heavy cream, whipped (I omitted this)


Mix cornstarch, salt, sugar and 1/2 cup of the milk.  Meanwhile scald rest of milk in double boiler.  Pour little of scalded milk on the cornstarch mixture and blend.  Add this to remaining scalded milk and stir constantly until pudding thickens.  Remove spoon, cover double boiler and cook 25 minutes stirring occasionally.  Add vanilla, beat up well, pour into 6 cold wet molds, chill thoroughly, and then unmold.  Serve with whipped cream.  Add sliced fresh fruit, canned fruit or stewed dried fruit, if desired.  Serves 6.

To prevent skin forming on surface of pudding while chilling, cover top of glasses or molds with wax or parchment paper, transparent cellulose sheeting or aluminum foil.

I Made a Fool Out of Gooseberries

Like its close relation, the currant, the gooseberry (Ribes) grows in perfect harmony with the long days of summer. The fruiting season is slow and measured, beginning in the early spring, when the lanky bush sprouts tiny green shoots and eventually shy, white blossoms.  In the summer, the branches bend toward the ground with neat rows of green, delicately veined fruit, slowly maturing to purple orbs around midsummer.  It is always a little sad when you realize that the bush is suddenly bare, all the fruit having finally fallen or been eaten, as this marks the end of summer.

Indigenous to the temperate zones of Europe, the gooseberry is known to have been cultivated as early as the thirteenth century.  It became a conventional ingredient by the sixteenth century and was used in sauces and stuffings.  ("Gooseberry"  An A-Z of Food and Drink. Ed. John Ayto. Oxford University Press, 2002).  Because of their tartness, gooseberries will combine well with anything sweet, such as the custards and cream desserts with which they have long been paired.   Gooseberries can be eaten in both the unripe and ripe states, the latter being slightly sweeter and less acidic.

Beloved in Britain, gooseberries were put to good use in the classic fool.  The earliest extant English recipe for gooseberry fool is found in Hannah Glasse's Art of Cookery (1747) and has not varied much in comparison with present-day adaptations.   Below, I've featured the recipe I use, followed by Glasse's recipe.  Since gooseberries are not often seen in markets, they are worth growing yourself, producing an abundant, disease- and pest-free crop of ready to cook, vitamin-rich fruit.  This season, I'll also try the gooseberry and elderflower cake recipe from Fennel & Fern.

Gooseberry Fool made with ripe purple gooseberries.

Recipe

Gooseberry Fool

You can use green or purple gooseberries for the fool. Since I have only made this recipe with ripe, purple ones, you may find that unripe, green gooseberries require a little more honey or sugar for the compote. Adjust with a teaspoon at a time until you get a nice sweet/tart balance.

Ingredients

1 pound green or purple gooseberries (about 3 cups)

1/2 cup honey

Juice and zest of 1 orange

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

pinch of salt

3/4 cup heavy cream

1 Tbs granulated sugar

1. Prepare gooseberries by removing the tiny tails with a sharp knife or fork tines.

Slice gooseberries in half and place in a heavy saucepan. Add honey, vanilla, and salt. Cover the pot and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes. When the mixture is bubbly and the fruit has softened, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Pour into a bowl and refrigerate until cold, 30 minutes to 1 hour.

2. Whip cream and gradually add sugar. Continue whipping until soft peaks form. Reserve about 1/3 of the compote mixture for garnish and fold the remainder into the whipped cream until well blended. Spoon the fool into 6 serving glasses or bowls and chill for 1 hour before serving. Serve garnished with reserved gooseberry compote. Keeps up to 2 days refrigerated.

Period Recipe from The Art of Cookery (1747) by Hannah Glasse

To make a gooseberry fool.

Take two quarts of gooseberries, set them on the fire in
about a quart of water. When they begin to simmer, turn yellow
and begin to plump, throw them into a colander to drain
the water out ; then with the back of a spoon carefully squeeze
the pulp, throw the sieve into a dish, make them pretty sweet
and let them stand till they are cold. In the mean time take
two quarts of new milk, and the yolks of four eggs beat up
with a little grated nutmeg; stir it softly over a slow fire ; when
it begins to simmer, take it off, and by degrees stir it into the
gooseberries. Let it stand till it is cold, and serve it up. If you
make it with cream you need not put any eggs in : and if it
is not thick enough, it is only boiling more gooseberries, But
that you must do as you think proper.

The Cream Top Milk Separator

The Cream Top separator, a humble metal ladle, was designed for the purpose of separating cream from milk in a particular type of milk bottle. Before homogenized milk became widespread in the late 1940s, milk bottles typically featured a top layer of cream-- the fat that naturally rises to the milk's surface.  Cream Top bottles featured a bulge at the cream line where the ladle could rest.  The end of the ladle doubled as a bottle opener and hooked on to the bottle's rim, allowing one to tip over the bottle and pour out the cream using only one hand.

"Something More Than Just a Bottle of Milk"

During the first half of the 20th century in the United States, milk industry practices and the consumption of milk became increasingly standardized by the federal government.  After a century of  milk contamination scandals, measures such as the requirement of pasteurization and the institution of federal milk programs in schools sought to instill public trust in milk as a safe, nutritious food and thus increase consumption of domestic commodities. In early 20th century advertisements, milk is consistently billed as a pure, simple source of nutrition, yet each manufacturer emphasizes a quality that makes theirs different.  See my posts on Selling Milk Between the Wars, Parts I and II. With the Cream Top Corporation, it was the efficiency of their specially designed bottle and the quality of the cream ("so thick it whips instantly"), targeting 1930s housewives in charge of family meal planning.

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, March 1, 1940.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, March 1, 1940.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

Cream Top Advertisement, Good Housekeeping, June 1, 1935.
Photo: Gallery of Graphic Design. gogd.tjs-labs.com

"Luxury Without Extravagance"
During the Great Depression, Cream Top advertised the idea of cream as an economical luxury.  The recipe booklet below encourages home cooks to use cream in every meal, thereby adding an element of luxury to even the sparest of ingredients: "[cream] adds interest and flavor to soups, salads and even meat courses.  It often transforms left-overs into royal dishes as if by magic...yet it's so simple to use.  Without fuss or bother, you can quickly 'make' whipped cream."  As milk bottles were gradually replaced with paper cartons in the 1940s, the Cream Top bottle faded away.

Like the advertisements above, this 24-page booklet is associated with the magazine, Good Housekeeping.
Here, the recipes have been "tested, tasted and approved by the Good Housekeeping Institute.  Booklet circa 1930s
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Coming soon, a recipe from the booklet.

More on milk from the archives:
PET Milk and the Business of Feeding Babies
Selling Milk Between the Wars, Parts I and II