Tag Archives: American Food and Drink

Cooking with Ketchup: Pictures from the Promotional Kitchen

By Jennifer McGillan

In 1957 H.J. Heinz and Co published 57 Prize Winning Recipes, a promotional single-product cookbook. As a historical document, it is a snapshot of the late 1950s American culinary landscape, offering insight into the ongoing evolution and diversification of the American palate in the mid-twentieth century. It also documents the tension generated as part of that diversification: throughout the cookbook recipes reflecting consumer familiarity and interest in dishes from culinary traditions that were previously “foreign,” such as Mexican, Chinese, and Italian food, are paired with illustrations that mock those same cultures and traditions. 

The front cover of the cookbook, 57 Prize-Winning Recipes from H. J. Heinz, Co.

57 Prize Winning Recipes aimed to put ketchup at the forefront of the cooking and eating experience, inviting cooks to reconsider its applications in the kitchen, and asking prospective diners to consider the reality of ketchup – its taste and texture  – writ large. The primary purpose of the cookbook is to sell Heinz ketchup to the public. As such, the recipes presented in the cookbook are intended for home cooks. They reflect prevailing cultural norms and trends, offer cooks alternatives to familiar standards, and celebrate culinary innovation, though using a limited palette, and for a very specific palate. 

As a home cook with an interest in vintage food, reading this cookbook is a wild ride. The recipes themselves are both intriguing and repulsive and  the illustrations are simultaneously lurid, offensive, and quaint. Like many vintage cookbooks, it invites a number of questions including: Who made this cookbook? Why? Were they serious or was it just a publicity stunt? Are any of these recipes any good?

About the cookbook

57 Prize Winning Recipes is a slender volume of only 32 pages, printed in color on clay (magazine) paper, bound with staples. This paper, which fuses to itself when it gets wet, is the greatest material challenge of working with the cookbook, as I discovered while cooking with my personal copy. As I carefully pulled the pages apart and patted them dry, I started to wonder: was this cookbook created to be seen, read, and talked about, but never used? Or was the paper a mistake made by people who sold food but didn’t cook?

There is no surviving documentation on creation and development of the cookbook in the H.J. Heinz Company records, but based on newspaper accounts, the recipes are most likely the result of two contests: one held in 1955, in which contestants submitted their own recipes, and one held in 1956, in which contestants submitted names for recipes created by Heinz. Unlike other cookbooks resulting from recipe contests, such as the Pillsbury Bake-off, the winners’ names are not attached to the recipes. Finding the names and stories of the contest winners for 57 Recipes is also part of my research on the cookbook.

Visually and stylistically, the cookbook is an overwhelming mish-mash, in which whimsical line drawings done in primary colors illustrating recipes mix with full color photographs of dishes that verge on garish and nauseating. (Our cataloger mostly-jokingly threatened to go on strike after she cataloged the library’s copy.)

In addition to the illustrations of the recipes themselves, the art in the cookbook reflects a tension between a progressive, internationally-flavored future, and a conservative, xenophobic present, communicating complicated messages of  acceptance and mockery in the same space. For example, the first illustration in the cookbook is a drawing of a chef with a tomato face on a human body, wearing a monocle and carrying a magic wand, evoking a classy, transformative, future-positive vibe. 

Meanwhile, only a few pages later, the illustrations for the Mexican and Chinese dishes are accompanied by a shrimp in a sombrero playing the ukulele, a shrimp with a Mandarin hat and a Fu Manchu mustache, and eggs with slanted eyes wearing Asian conical hats. While these images communicated clear racial stereotypes, not all of the images included in the cookbook function in the same way. Some of the illustrations employ imagery that is evocative of a country or culture using different visual forms.  The illustration for Chicken Cacciatore, for example, (p. 9) is a chicken playing a guitar on a gondolier and Texas Hot Eggs are accompanied by an egg dressed like a cowboy and wielding a whip (p. 15). When  read alongside one another, the racist and xenophobic illustrations provided for the other recipes are thus even more stark and jarring

Alongside the drawings are photographs of the dishes in full, saturated color. They are so vivid you can almost taste the ketchup, and there is a lot of ketchup. They are the least appetizing part of the whole publication. As part of my research, I cooked and photographed (and also ate) some of the dishes, to show what they looked like in a real-life, non-promotional context. 

The proof is in the crabcake

Reading and cooking from vintage recipes can be much like reading ancient poems and legends: a voyage of hope and occasionally perilous textual uncertainty that sometimes sends in joy.

In the case of 57 Recipes,  the recipes are cookable, and in some cases, delicious. Crab Biscayne (p. 11), with some minor alterations,  is now a regular part of my Thanksgiving and Christmas menus. I tried making it with tomato sauce and it is actually better with ketchup. The Spicy Pear Compote was also really good.

 I was selective with the dishes I chose to prepare, in order to avoid gratuitously wasting food. I chose dishes that I thought I could share, or that were easily cut down for one person. As my research on the contest winners progressed, I also focused on cooking recipes created by identifiable individuals.

Cooking with ketchup was paradoxically freeing. I was not expecting the results to be good, so I didn’t put any expectations on myself or my cooking skills. Techniques I learned in the process include: how to use a double boiler and the broiler, and how to bake a cake from scratch. Some tastes and textures were odd, but there was only one dish – Eggs Ample – where the ketchup turned out to be Too Much. 

Some examples:

Toledo Ham (uncooked): Overall 1st Prize Winner, 1955 Cook with Ketchup contest; original recipe by Marguerite Fortress of Toledo, OH.
Toledo Ham (uncooked): Overall 1st Prize Winner, 1955 Cook with Ketchup contest; original recipe by Marguerite Fortress of Toledo, OH.
Toledo Ham (cooked).
Spicy Pear Compote. Original author as yet unknown. 
Brazilian Dreams: Original author unknown; a personal “pizza” with ketchup and macademia nuts
Major League Rhubarb (uncooked): Overall 2nd Prize 1955 Cook with Ketchup contest; original recipe by Rosemary Rothschild of New York, NY.
Major League Rhubard (cooked).
Shrimp sandwich: Original author unknown.
Crab Biscayne (uncooked): Original author unknown.
Crab Biscayne (cooked).
Eggs Ample: 1st place in Eggs; original recipe by Evelyn Rose Peterson of Washington, DC. Contains eggs, mashed potatoes, ketchup and grated cheese.

Jennifer McGillan has been the Coordinator  of Manuscripts at Mississippi State University since 2015. She holds a BA in English from Davidson College (1997), a MLIS-Archives from the University of Pittsburgh (2003) and a JD from New York Law School (2012). Her research interests include 19th century legal history and enslaved persons, vintage cooking and recipes, “women’s work,” the various intersections of archives work and disability, and pirates.

The Imagined, Implied, and Authentic Audiences of an American Settlement House Cookbook

By Kimberly S. Baker, PhD
In early 20th-century Milwaukee, a Midwestern American industrial city, social reformer Lizzie Kander and her fellow aid workers published a community cookbook (of sorts). Kander and colleagues ran “The Settlement,” a settlement house that supported and acclimated immigrant Jewish families to urban American living, offering social services, arts and culture opportunities, and classes including English and civics (Fritz). The Settlement Cookbook began as the instructional text for its cooking class for young women and girls. The settlement house movement generally held that adopting American ways of living included adopting American culinary habits (Ziegelman, 160); thus, settlement-style cooking classes introduced immigrants to mainstream American food.

The Settlement Cookbook, 1901. (image credit: Wikimedia Commons).
The Settlement Cookbook, 1901. (image credit: Wikimedia Commons).

This cookbook and its historical and cultural context, audiences, and communicative goals introduce a “community” where imagined, implied, and authentic audiences converge. 

Settlement house initiatives can be understood as contact zones, “social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power,” (Pratt, 1991). In these contact zones, people with social power and economic means strive to influence the lives of less-privileged people, and lower-status settlement house patrons receive services provided by higher-status workers, who themselves benefit, emotionally, culturally, and socially, from giving aid.

The uneven relationships present in settlement houses relies on forms of authoritative power which are also fundamental to advice literature, including household manuals, where higher-status authors instruct and make recommendations to their supposedly lower-status readers (Dorfman, 4). If authors write to advise an implied audience of their own peers, intending that authentic (lower-status) readers were “listening in” for guidance necessary to rise socially, group boundaries become more visible. Such advice is believed to be valuable because “correct” behavior indicates who belongs.

These were dynamics which Kander herself understood very well. Settlement “stood for domestic science;” she argued in The Settlement’s 1899 president’s report, and cooking class trained girls to “do battle with the industrialized world,” and, “equip [them] to become economical and efficient homemakers and intelligent Mothers.”(Annual Report, 1899). Precision and formality reflect the institutional authority of classroom texts and the then-emerging home-economics discipline with its scientific jargon. Cookbook instructions outline techniques, as well as specify cooking tools, brand-name ingredients, and prepared foods.

Cooking Class in 1907 (image credit: Encyclopedia of Milwaukee).
Cooking Class in 1907 (image credit: Encyclopedia of Milwaukee).
Measuring: Precise instruction in The Settlement’s cooking classes aligned with practices in the domestic science field (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).
Measuring: Precise instruction in The Settlement’s cooking classes aligned with practices in the domestic science field (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).

However, the Settlement’s authentic students were likely more experienced cooks than the start-with-the-basics instructions suggest. While Kander and her circle belonged to Reformed Jewish synagogues, the Settlement’s immigrant patrons followed more conservative religious practice, and kept Kosher (Fritz). The students’ kitchen skills were homegrown, as young Jewish girls learned religious food guidelines and traditional food preparation through helping their mothers (Ziegelman, 95-7). This oral tradition familiar to the immigrant students contrasts with the settlement house’s formal, institutional approach. Kander’s president’s report acknowledges these divergent norms, explaining that the cooking class was “obliged to conduct the lessons on the ‘Kosher’ plan—as the children adhered strictly to the orthodox rules of cooking,” (1899).

Rules of Kosher: Lessons on the “Kosher plan” at The Settlement’s cooking class accommodated its immigrant students (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).
Rules of Kosher: Lessons on the “Kosher plan” at The Settlement’s cooking class accommodated its immigrant students (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).

That cultural accommodation soon faded; Kander’s notes (1898) for the initial classroom cookbook address Kosher practices, including defining Kosher cooking, dishes for milk and meat meals, meat preparation, and washing (with soda, not soap, which contained “mixed materials”). In the 1903 printed edition, nods to Kosher practices are minimal; non-compliant recipes such as for shellfish, and meat with dairy, feature among its pages. This cookbook content aligned with the non-Kosher eating habits of the local, middle-class, German, Reformed-Jewish community, rather than the settlement house students.

Milk Meals: Lizzie Kander’s notebook with plans for the “Kosher plan” lessons for The Settlement’s cooking class (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).
Milk Meals: Lizzie Kander’s notebook with plans for the “Kosher plan” lessons for The Settlement’s cooking class (courtesy: Lizzie Kander Papers).

In reflecting the broader local community, the cookbook not only gains potential readers, but also legitimacy by association with them. Community authority (and approval) offers students a permission structure to discard strict, traditional norms and adopt American cuisine.

That affluent, German-Jewish community was also a key cookbook audience, supporting The Settlement and funding the cookbook itself: Kander initially sought to publish the recipes for classroom efficiency, so students could spend class time cooking, not copying. The Settlement’s all-male directors denied this funding request as extravagant, so the women and their publisher instead sold advertisements in the cookbook, many to businesses owned by Kander’s social peers. Students bought copies for a reduced fee; a local department store sold surplus cookbooks to the public. The initial 1901 print run sold out within the year, and proceeds from subsequent editions, edited by Kander herself, funded The Settlement through its first nine years (Fritz). 

The cookbook’s advertising sections showcased luxury goods and services that reinforced the sophisticated, middle-class living invoked by the recipes. While the lifestyle advertised was likely unattainable for the immigrant student audience, the women whose families owned the businesses that purchased ads were more realistic customers. The ads may also have reinforced the ad buyers’ altruism by publicizing who else bought ads and supported the cause.

The cookbook may appear a rhetorical flop, delivering strict, novice-level instruction to knowledgeable students, proscribing a cuisine that challenges students’ religious norms, and advertising an unattainable lifestyle. Instructors with social status and wealth advised newcomers that being American meant following these guidelines. Yet, despite apparent shortcomings of audience analysis, the cookbook remained popular, locally, and nationally, for decades, blending tradition with American tastes and the changing times.

REFERENCES:

Dorfman, Cindy. “The Garden of Eating: The Carnal Kitchen in Contemporary American Culture.” Feminist Issues 12.1 (1992): 21-38.

Fritz, Angela. “Lizzie Black Kander & Culinary Reform in Milwaukee 1880-1920.” The Wisconsin Magazine of History (2004): 36-49. 

Kander, Mrs. Simon. and Mrs. Henry Schoenfeld. The Settlement Cookbook.  Milwaukee: The Settlement. 1903. Carlisle, MA: Applewood Books. 2010.

— Annual Report: Milwaukee Jewish Mission. June 6, 1899. MS. Lizzie Black Kander Papers, 1875-1960 (Box 2 Folder 11) Housed at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Libraries’ Archives Department / Milwaukee Area Research Center; owned by the Wisconsin Historical Society, Division of Library, Archives, and Museum Collections. Milwaukee, WI. 15 June, 2016.

—-Notebook. “Cooking Lesson Book.” 1898. MS. Lizzie Black Kander Papers, 1875-1960 (Box 1 Folder 10) Housed at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Libraries’ Archives Department / Milwaukee Area Research Center; owned by the Wisconsin Historical Society, Division of Library, Archives, and Museum Collections. Milwaukee, WI. 15 June, 2016.

Pratt, Mary Louise. “Arts of the Contact Zone.” Profession (1991): 33-40.

Ziegelman, J. 97 Orchard: An edible history of five immigrant families in one New York tenement. Smithsonian Books/HarperCollins. 2010.


Dr. Kimberly Baker is an instructor in the Humanities, Social Science and Communication department at the Milwaukee School of Engineering, in Milwaukee, WI, where she teaches courses in professional and technical communication. Her research interests include The Settlement Cookbook, and its author, social reformer Lizzie Black Kander, as well as workplace communication and the experience of user-experience (UX) professionals in organizations. She is at work on a co-authored book about everyday rhetoric for undergraduate STEM students.