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The Jello thing must be American.
In the UK we made everything with potatoes and Spam.
Gelatin was used plenty in UK. Iv watched plenty of British cooking shows that focused on the 40s-80s to know that for a fact. But it just got REAL fucking big here cause of name brand jello.
So it’s just truely absurd here state side.
Grandma’s cookbook had two categories: comfort food and culinary crimes.
Don’t forget the middle ground where they cross. War time ration crime against God that your parents swear is comfort food but is actually why they are missing brain cells.
Boiled “skinned” hotdog in cabbage soup… Was my grandmother’s. Funfact its broth was made of bullion cubes and hot dog skins… Its very beefy…
If your lucky you get navy beans added.
Mid-century recipes were buck wild. People who’d grown up with six ingredients suddenly had access to exotic raw materials like cheese from Switzerland, and they were doing mad science in a casserole dish. It was fusion cuisine from people who would not recognize sushi as intended for human consumption.
This is my grandmother’s recipe for ribs, which means it’s 1950s American suburban cuisine. It’s not high culture… but it’s not bad, and you’d never try it otherwise.
Par-bake 5 lbs of pork ribs, in a deep pan, in the oven, at 325 degrees Farenheit.
While that’s happening, mix a sauce from the following:
8 oz dark corn syrup or molasses
40 oz ketchup (seriously)
1 small onion, diced
3 cloves garlic
~16 oz canned mandarin oranges (or pineapple)
12 whole cloves
1 cups vinegar (white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar)
3 tbsp “salad oil” (i.e. some lightly-flavored vegetable oil)
4 oz French’s yellow mustard (again, seriously)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pepper
3 oz Heinz 57 (a steak sauce, similar to A1)
2 tsp Worcestershire
1 tsp Tabasco
3 tbsp butterApparently I don’t have the intended cooking times on this computer, so you’d have to bodge other recipes for ribs in sauce. Use a mat thermometer and don’t worry about it. Basically just get them half-done, then pour on this “Polynesian” sauce, and check temperature / baste every so often. The result is a very sweet, tangy meat, with abundant extra sauce intended to go over fresh short-grain rice. Because I expect my grandmother died without ever hearing the word “basmati.” My family stole the basis for this from Good Housekeeping, and they’ve only sent goons after us, like, twice. Incidentally you get about twenty pounds of ribs per goon.
