Family Food in 1938

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by Caroline

family picnic, circa 1938

Among the treasures I found in my garage recently were two bank-issued datebooks from 1938 and 1939. They are embossed with Tony’s grandfather’s name and offer some introductory boilerplate pages of information considered essential for businessmen, from a 300-word description of the Statue of Liberty to “Fifteen Don’ts in the Use of the Flag” and “The Fourteen Errors of Life.” “Good Rules for Business Men” include “Make Friends, but not favorites” and “Stick to chosen pursuits, but not to chosen methods.”

These pages fascinate me, but I’m even more interested in the calendar pages of the book, which Tony’s grandmother took over and made her own daily journal. From January 1st until December 25th, she noted the day’s activities and the family’s meals (sometimes indicating different dishes for her daughter, eleven year-old Nancy, and her youngest child, Geoff).

Saturday, January 1st, 1938
Played in the yard in the morning
Ate lunch at Andersens on Wilshire Blvd.
In the afternoon went to Grauman’s Chinese to see “Love and Kisses” + “Checkers.”
Supper at 6:15 P.M. Bed at 7:40 P.M.

~~~
Breakfast
Orange juice
Ralston
Scrambled eggs
Ham
Milk
Toast

Lunch
Turkey
Corn
Potatoes
Tomato Juice (Nancy)
Lettuce salad
Orange sherbert (Geoff)
Choc. Sundae (Nancy)

Supper
Bean soup
Pear salad
Crackers and cheese
Apple
Cookie
Milk

Monday, January 10, 1938
School.
Nancy had her 17th French lesson. Geoffrey went to club.
Bed at 7:05 + 8:00 P.M.

Breakfast
Orange juice
Oatmeal
Raisin bread toast
Bacon
Milk

Lunch
Meatball
Spinach
Lima beans
Peas
Orange
Milk

Supper
Mushroom soup
Spaghetti
Roll
Rhubarb
Milk
Graham crackers

I skip ahead to April:

School
Nancy had a French lesson at 3:10 P.M. Geoffrey went to club.
Nancy getting her rock specimens ready to take to school for the “Hobby” department on May Day.

Breakfast
Orange juice
Ralston
Bacon
Toast
Milk

Lunch
Pea soup
Cottage cheese – avocado salad
Jello + cookie
Milk

Dinner
Meat ball
Potato
Squash
Beans
Raspberries
Milk

And then skip again to a Saturday in May:

Went to the children’s show in the morning at the Beverly theater.
In the afternoon played outside.
Nancy baked a lemon cake – very good.

Breakfast
Orange juice
Oatmeal
Bacon
Toast
Milk

Lunch
Creamed fish
Beans
Potatoes
Tomatoes
½ peach
milk

Supper
Mushroom soup
Bacon sandwich
Apple-celery salad
Milk
Tapioca pudding (Nancy)
Cherries (Geoff)
Cake

I learn about their haircuts and their play dates and their appointments at the dentist; I learn that Nancy had a pet guinea pig and Geoff was sent to bed early when he misbehaved.

But of course it’s learning about their meals that interests me. I’m intrigued by the ways in which they are not so very different from our own (cereal, juice and milk at breakfast) and the ways they really are (also bacon and toast with that cereal, juice and milk!) It’s page after page of hot lunches and meat + two (or more) veg dinners, with milk at every meal. It is very proper English eating, because Nancy’s mother was English, but clearly California eating, too, as they incorporate the local produce, especially avocados, and lots of grapefruit and oranges.

Its uncomplicated lists of everyday meals show how one family was being nurtured and nourished, and makes me glad of the record Lisa and I are keeping here. It makes me think about what I want my children to remember of their meals, and realize my aspirations are fairly simple: I want them to be satisfied and happy, I want them to enjoy cooking and eating our meals. I could emulate some of these 1938 meals today if I wanted to – you can still buy Ralston cereal, which has only changed to note on the package that it’s microwavable — but I don’t feel the need. It’s enough for me simply to read this completely unremarkable record of one family’s daily food life, notable only because it exists.

Cake for my Mom

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by Caroline


I really didn’t intend to write about cake again, but some weeks around here seem to occasion lots of baking and this was one of them: birthday cake for Tony, four batches of cookies for various events and finally, a delicious almond layer cake with sherry-lemon buttercream, just because. Just because my mother sent me the recipe, saying “Doesn’t this look good?” Just because my parents were visiting. Just because I like to try out new recipes when I have extra people around to eat the results.

It’s a delicious cake, best (I think) with a sprinkle of raspberries and three generations around the table to share it.

Birthday Cake

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by Caroline

future cake!

Flashback: April 30, 2002

We are the new parents of a fussy, fabulous eight-week old baby. Tony heads off to work, as usual, at 5 AM so that he can put in close to the minimum ten hours his start-up expects before coming home to take a crying baby off my hands.

I’ve spent the day with that crying baby in my hands, nursing and walking laps around the house, occasionally sitting down for a minute to email one-handed with my Stanford writing students, who are working on their final essays with me while I’m on “maternity leave.”

We order in take-out from the local Chinese place and I sit on the couch in a stupor, eating bites out of the carton and watching a rerun of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” while Tony, holding Ben in one hand (the classic colic “football hold”) and a fork in the other, circles from living room to dining room, swooping over my shoulder occasionally to grab a bite of dinner himself. During commercials, I mute the TV for a moment and Tony pauses and I wish him a happy birthday, drowned out by Ben’s wails. I have no recollection of whether I bought or made a cake (I must have, I think, but I really don’t know) but I definitely remember feigning optimism. “It won’t always be like this!”

Today:

We have two boys who, happily, don’t cry nearly as much, but they still have their various impacts on birthday dinner. Today, for example, Ben has a 5:30 baseball game at which Tony is coaching. Since it’s a school night, and because my parents will be arriving, jet lagged, from the east coast at 3 this afternoon, we can’t really hold dinner until after the game. So we’ll eat in stages: Ben before his game; Eli, my parents and I during; and Tony after. But we will all sit down together, after school and before baseball, for a piece of birthday cake. This cake, which is our all-time favorite birthday cake.

Happy birthday, Tony!

Just add bacon

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by Lisa

The question usually goes something like this:

“What are we having for dinner?”

And the answer goes something like this:

a) “I don’t know yet.”

b) “Food.”

c) “(insert actual name of real dish I’m serving here)”

In other words: a) the lie, b) the evasion, c) the truth.

Option “C” ? It rarely goes well. Which would be one thing if the kids didn’t like to eat. But according to the laws of kid-dom, where they reside, they are obligated to pout and protest and suggest alternative meals…and then almost without exception sit down and eat without complaining. It drives me crazy.

However, I have found a stealth weapon and it is bacon. The other night when they asked the question, I was ready. “Pasta,” I said, then I paused, and added under my breath, “with bacon.” I waited for the backlash.

They cheered.

Technically, it was pancetta, but who’s keeping track? There was an egg involved, too, that I sort of left out of the description.  I did the evasion thing until the last moment when I poached it right there in front of them. I’m not such an expert at the poaching, but the kids love a runny yolk, and they found the process weird and satisfying.

As I was cooking, the two of them admitted that I could add bacon to anything and they would be happy. Really? I asked. “So if I say we’re having pasta?”

“Boo.”

“Pasta with bacon?”

“Yay!”

“Fish?”

“Yuk.”

“Fish wrapped in bacon?”

“YUM!”

“Tofu?”

“Blech.”

“Tofu and bacon?”

“Yes, PLEEASE!”

“”Burgers?”

“And bacon!”

“So I can add bacon to anything and you won’t complain?”

“Nope. I mean yup. Bacon!”

Pasta with Bacon and Eggs AKA Pasta with Pancetta, Parmesan, and Poached Egg

Serves 4

  • 3/4 pound small shell pasta
  • 4 slices pancetta, cut into small dice, or more, if my daughter is coming to your house
  • about 3/4 cup freshly grated parmesan romano
  • Several large handfuls of pea greens or spinach
  • 4 eggs
  • 4 tablespoons white vinegar
  • olive oil
  1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil for the pasta. Bring a smaller pot to boil for the eggs.
  2. While water is coming to a boil, sautee the pea greens &/or spinach in a large pan until tender. Separate into four bowls.
  3. In the same pan, sautee the pancetta in a few tablespoons of olive oil until crisp. Turn off heat and set aside.
  4. Refuse to stuff each individual shell with a piece of bacon/pancetta, per your daughter’s request.
  5. When small pot is boiling, turn it down to a low simmer. Crack each egg carefully into a ramekin or small bowl so it’s ready to poach.
  6. When the large pot boils, cook the pasta. When about 4 minutes are left to go on the pasta, make sure the water for the eggs is simmering, then pour in vinegar, turn off heat, give the water a swirl to make a whirlpool,and  one by one, carefully slip the eggs into the poaching liquid.
  7. Let the eggs sit and cook in the water for 3-4 minutes while you drain the pasta, then add the pasta to the pan with the pancetta.
  8. Add the cheese to the pasta and pancetta and toss to coat.
  9. Portion the pasta into 4 bowls, layering it over the greens.
  10. When the eggs are done, remove one by one with a slotted spoon, drain for a minute, and place them carefully on top of the pasta.

Afternoon Snack

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by Caroline

I read a restaurant review recently that mentioned the unusual egg dishes on the dinner menu and the waiter’s shrugging comment, “Chef thinks eggs are not used enough in the evening.”

Well. Perhaps Chef does not live with children who think Breakfast for Dinner is as wonderful a treat as Dessert for Dinner.

However, I do think eggs are not used enough in the afternoon. There’s not much quicker than what I fixed the other day when I faced that yawning gap between lunch and dinner. And by the way? That fork’s a lie because I just picked the whole thing up and ate it in my fingers.

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