Trick Or Raisin

Life, October 16, 1964

Fewer tricks when you treat ‘em with Sun Maid Raisins, huh?

These children are probably not all that thrilled, not really. Like Junie B. Jones, they are thinking that they did not say “trick or fruit,”* did they? But they will pretend for the camera. They’ll come back and toilet paper the house later.

Having said that, the clown boy does look like he’s dropping the raisins back into the bowl. Doesn’t he? The tiger, too – he’s about to drop them back in, too. And the girl is only smiling because she decided to hang back and wait until they get to the next house, where there’s probably some candy corn, at least.

There’s a particularly funny bit in the sidebar, you can see it better here, where they are pushing raisins for the grownups, too. Set out some bowls of raisins, folks, because

Perhaps you’re having an adult-type party yourself!

What does that even mean, an “adult-type” party? If this adult-type person is going to have to keep answering the constant ding-donging of trick-or-treaters, I’ll need something more festive than Sun-Maid  to sustain me: a chocolate martini would be ideal, I think. Straight up, hold the raisins, please.

*This is my favorite line from the classic holiday tale Junie B. Jones, First Grader: Boo…And I MEAN IT!

Lavender Provender

My planters will hold a lot of lavender!

I have never been much of a gardener, but someday that is all going to change. I love fresh herbs, especially things like lavender and lemon verbena, and when I was very young someone gave me a planting kit with seeds and a bunch of tiny little plastic containers. And I tried to grow them, really I did. Only I was in a highrise apartment building and my room faced north onto a dark courtyard and…well, you can imagine how well that worked out.

Now I actually have a backyard, so all I need is a few outdoor commercial planters to put my future herbs in. Oh, and some seeds and seedlings, of course. And some gardening books! Planters are excellent for herbs, vegetable, flowers and small trees because they protect them from diseases in the soil, and from weeds. You can adjust the amount of sunlight and water they get, too. You can even shelter them on the porch when the weather gets wild. They can be small containers, of course, not commercial planters – in fact, I will probably start out small.

Lavender field in Tasmania

Having said that, a commercial planter would hold plenty of lavender, which would suit me fine. I love lavender anything – the color lavender, Yardley’s lavender soap, the lavender skin cream I got on a trip to Belgium in 1989 (it was so amazing!), lavender honey, the background of this post – you name it. Maybe I will have two or three large commercial planters with different kinds of lavender, who knows! But then we will need a bigger back yard, I suppose.

What will we do with all this lavender? Dry some for sachets, of course. We can make our own lotion, oil and candles. And we can make treats like  lavender ice cream. We can even make some unusual candy. Here is a mid-Victorian recipe for lavender sweets:

Lavender Lozenges

Fourteen pounds of powdered sugar, one quart of gum, half an ounce of Mitcham oil of lavender. These are mostly colored with a faint blue or deep pink, and cut out with a fluted cutter or other shapes to fancy.

[from Henry Weatherley, A Treatise in the Art of Boiling Sugar, Crystallizing, Lozenge-Making, Comfits, Gum Goods an d Other Processes for Confectionery, Etc., 1865, p. 107]

Henry Weathersley omits any directions for mixing or cooking the ingredients (Victorian cookery and household guide writers often did this). He does tell us just how to color them and cut them out though, in case we actually figured out how to make the stuff.

[Images from Wikipedia]

A Sampling of Whitmaniacs

Those Donalds sure like their Whitman Samplers. The guys like giving them to the gals. The gals like to chomp the chocolates. Although after all these years, year after year of nothing but Whitman’s Samplers – don’t you think the ladies would like something a little different?

The ads says that if you ask any lady what her favorite candy is, the inevitable answer will be: Whitman’s. How many ladies did they ask, do you think? They just asked around the Whitman’s office, I’ll bet. No one dared to say: you know, I really prefer Brach’s Mellowcreme Eggs. 

And note to Martha Donald in the last picture: it is polite to share. See how she’s keeping the box on the side away from John? And “hand strays now and then” to the box for more and more chocolates. I’ll bet John wouldn’t mind a crack at one of those coconut creams, you know.

From Life, March 30 1942, bigger version here.

The Chewing Gum Caper

It was the end of a long day and I was just about to close the office down when she walked into the joint. She was a good looking dame, but I could tell something was on her mind. Something dangerous. Something dark. She asked me if I was the guy who’d solved the Chiclets Caper back in ’37. “That’s right,” I told her. “Brought the Mars Bar Murderer in, too.”

“And the Case of the Pancake Makeup?”

“That wasn’t me. I deal in candy and gum crimes only. Cases I can really get my teeth into. So why don’t you just cut to the chase – tell me what’s on your mind.” She hesitated for a moment. I waited.

“It’s Peggy.”

“Go on.”

“Well – Peggy’s my best friend. I mean, I always thought she was, until…it’s just that – Peggy’s always on the go. I mean, always! And yet -”

I leaned forward. “And yet?”

“She seems so – so well rested! But she claims that she only gets two hours’ sleep a night! How – how does she do it? It’s a mystery to me. That’s why I came here.”

I leaned back in my chair and tried not to spin it around. This was going to be a tough one. Maybe the toughest case I’d ever had.

I made a list of suspects and started leaning on them – hard. This Peggy was a whirlwind all right. Stayed out dancing all night in the shadiest dives. Worked ten-hour shifts selling lousy hats to bargain-basement Betties down at the Five and Ten. And when I say those hats were lousy, I mean it. But Peggy always made the sale. Her supervisor said she even sold that turquoise and yellow parrot hat that had been on the top shelf since before the stock market crash of 1929.

And then I caught a break. Everywhere Peggy had been, I found Beech-Nut Gum wrappers. Dame got careless. See, that’s where they start making mistakes – leaving evidence behind like it was garbage. Well, to a detective, it’s not garbage – it’s clues.

I told my client that I’d broken the case. “Your little pal Peggy has been keeping a big secret from you,” I told her. “She’s a gum chewer. Beech Nut Peppermint Gum. She must have seen those ads about how busy people can stay rested yet peppy all at once. They even call it a good habit. That’s how they lure them in! And now she’s hooked on it. “

“I did notice her chewing something pretty well all the time,” said the dame.

“See, that’s the way it is with a mystery. Clues right in front of you, but ordinary people don’t know how to read ‘em.”

She paid me, thanked me profusely, and was on her way. I stuck the check in my pocket and reached for a pack of Black Jack – the tough guy’s gum that promises nothing but a little bit of licorice. Another case, another day.

[From that great mystery publication, Life, October 23, 1939. Want the big version? Right this way. Tell 'em Sam Spade sent you.]

The Cereal Box Masquerade

Even the inanimate objects are dressing up in Halloween costumes here. The little cereal boxes decided to be -  treats.

So picture this:

You’re all dressed up like Grandpa from The Munsters.* Grandpa from The Munsters with a bad case of seasickness. So he’s grumpy and green and he really needs something good to happen. As for you, you want candy. It’s Halloween after all – the festival of free candy! And boy, things need to get better soon. It’s been pencils and apples mostly, so far. Oh, and a few molasses taffy kisses, the kind with the orange and black paper wrappers that are welded right onto the taffy.

Ding-dong, trick or treat!

This can’t be happening. Surely it is a bad dream. Maybe Grandpa never got off that boat and you’re both drifting in a skim milk sea of bad luck and Alphabits that spell L-O-S-E-R.. Because – mini boxes of breakfast cereal? For Halloween? Oh, Mrs. Post, you just didn’t!

Oh yes she did though! And the box even says Treat-Pak. The corporate Post Ghosties think this is a great idea. They even think you won’t play any tricks, you will be so happy!

At the bottom, a tiny picture of the same kid is saying “All Post cereals happen to be just a little bit better.” Just a little bit better than – than what? What else has Mrs. Post got on hand tonight? Goody bags filled with Bran Flakes? Skim milk cartons and spoons? Or something even more sinister?

Guess which house everyone’s going to be covering in toilet paper tonight.

*Good trick that, because this ad predates the TV series by several years. The Munsters ran from 1964 to 1966, and this ad is from 1958.

What was the worst treat you ever got trick-or-treating? Please share! (Mine were mini boxes of Chiclets, and pencils.)

[From Life, October 27, 1958. That gave everyone four days to rush out and buy Treat Paks. Oh, and toilet paper.]

They’re Very Refreshing!

Fake chocolate and a little mint
No bigger than a nickel,
All nestled in a cardboard box
The size of a dill pickle.

They are quite sugary, that is true
But is there nothing sweeter?
I’m sure they sell a lot of chocolate
In the local movie theater,

And likewise at the soda shop
There’s ice cream and hot fudge
At every turn, glucose looms -
A townful of sweet sludge!

So tone it down some, if you please
It’s easy – well, as pie;
And tell your admen to come off
Their verbal sugar high.

[Advertisement (1953) thanks to TJS Labs.]

******

Junior Mints are also the focal point of a Seinfeld episode where Jerry and Kramer go to watch an operation in a hospital operating theater, and Kramer is munching Junior Mints as if he was at the movies. One flying Junior Mint actually lands in the patient and (in the end) saves him. Kramer doesn’t understand why Jerry keeps turning the candy down: “It’s chocolate – it’s mint – it’s delicious! It’s very refreshing!”

http://www.youtube.com/v/oFqsCitwIBw&hl=en&fs=1&

Inquiring Minds Want To Know: Rice Krispie Science

Why do Rice Krispies make that crackling noise in milk?

Inquiring minds at our house wanted to know…So I found out. Without either merrying-up or messing-up the breakfast table. I think they might be pretty much the same thing actually.

But anyway.

Kellogg’s Rice Krispies (which are called Rice Bubbles in Australia), first appeared in 1928. They are, not surprisingly, made of rice.

The rice is Krispied by popping it in a way quite similar to the popping of corn (oh look, a little connection with yesterday’s post!). The rice grains are cooked, dried and toasted. This gives them a hard outer layer. Then they are popped by being exposed to steam.

The steaming process moisturizes the starch inside the toasted outer layer of the Krispie, and they pop. The popping produces little air chambers inside the Krispied rice – little air chambers and tunnels which have very, very thin walls.

Then you come along, slap them in a bowl and surprise them with an onslaught of milk. They get wet, of course. When the milk reaches the inside of the Krispies, the teeny inner walls collapse very quickly. The sound of the collapsing Krispie walls is the snap, crackle, popping business.

Of course, if you are eating these in another country, you will get a slightly different noise. For example, if you are in Quebec, you will hear “Cric! Crac! Croc!” (That is louder than snap, crackle, pop, I believe. These are intense Krispies).

In Germany: “Knisper! Knasper! Knusper!” (They are whispering secrets, obviously. What exactly do they know?)
In Finland: “Riks! Raks! Poks!” ( Why not “Roks!” – ? No idea.)
And in Spain they go “Pim! Pum! Pam!” (rather like little drums, no?)

Let’s end up with a recipe that uses this noisy cereal – one that is NOT a marshmallow square. This is from To The Bride, a 1956 cookbook/household guide. I think the Chase and Sanborn Coffee people had a hand in it, since every menu suggestion includes – well, you know. This is one of the few recipes that does not involve a certain brand of coffee:

RICE KRISPIES WONDER FUDGE*

1. Take a cup of semi-sweet chocolate and melt in double boiler.
2. Take off heat and add 1/4 butter or margarine and 1/4 cup light corn syrup.
3. Stir in a tsp of vanilla and a cup of sifted confectioner’s sugar.
4. Add three cups of Rice Krispies!
5. Mix “lightly” – otherwise those Krispies will suffer! (And they will say more than cric, crac, croc about it, too).
6. Spread it all out in an 8 inch square pan. I think you ought to butter it, though they don’t say that.
7. Let it cool off and then cut it up – in squares! The Krispies’ favorite geometric shape.
8. I wonder what the “Wonder” part of this fudge is.
9. Maybe that’s it – nobody really knows. It’s an enigma wrapped in a mystery, Krispies wrapped in chocolate and corn syrup.

Oh, and I know the advertisement is off-season. All the good Krispie ads online are all rights reserved etc., or they seemed like it. And this is what I had.

Next week, tune in for another edition of Enquiring Minds Want To Know! (And I might change that title, we’ll just see about that). I do have a few questions in the pipeline – but obviously, if you think of something I would be glad to know about it.

Anything, really – any pop culture stuff, trivia, slang, urban legends, old movies, old TV shows – you name it, I’ll try and find out about it, write it up, and link to you, too.

* I rewrote the directions, because we don’t have all day, do we? Right.

SOURCES

Well, first of all I ran like the wind to Wikipedia

Rice Krispie explanation on How Stuff Works

Live Science also delves into the Rice Krispie

Mint Cocktail Chewing Gum

Willy Wonka, please take note of this. It is all very well to invent a gum that simulates a three-course meal – lthough one would prefer not to pay for the meal by transforming into a giant blueberry. However, Wonka seems to have neglected the possibilities of the cocktail hour – unlike the purveyors of toothpaste, for example.

So into the marketing gap comes Warrens with this mystifying gum. Can chewing gum function as a cocktail? Oh, probably not, they did put “Cocktail” in quotation marks. Just in case we got confused.

Personally, I prefer, say, a whiskey sour or a vodka and tonic that is drinkable. Comes in a glass. Because holding onto a glass – as Margie very well knows! – looks fun and also just gives you something to hang onto. And holding onto a pack of gum just isn’t the same.

However, chewing this gum will turn you into a popular singer, it would seem. Although how you are going to belt out a few numbers while chomping on a wad of Mint Cocktail goodness is anyone’s guess.

The copy suggests that you will also become a great social success. And that the chomped-upon gum remains full of – and I quote – “zest and zing,” even after you’ve been chewing away like Violet Beauregarde. Oh, and also that everyone is talking about this gum.

If you hold the package up, instead of a drink, when you are out at a holiday party, they won’t just be discussing the gum. They’ll be talking about you, too. Guaranteed.

Many thanks to Wishbook for this wonderful 1945 advertisement, link here.

Getting Frosted

It’s easy, this stuff – really easy. Goof-proof, the ad says. Well, if you want to be a gift-giving goof, here’s the proof.

But first, here’s a little hint, if you’re planning on making a bunch of stuff out of processed frosting powder and calling it candy – don’t put it in that Betty Crocker Frosting Mix box, OK? It’s kind of a giveaway!

I realize that fudge is essentially solidified frosting, but this just seems a little bit too blatant. And the Day Glo colors! Check out the lime-green swirly things. And the hot pink ones too. That used to be my favorite color magic marker, back in the 1960s – hot pink.

The ribbon implies that this box is about to get wrapped up as it is. So what does it mean when you give someone that blatantly says: I’m giving you a box of instant frosting.

It means that you want to impress them with your ingenuity with candied fruit, nuts and magic-marker colors – and different shapes! – but that you also want to dilute this with the uneasy thought that perhaps they’re getting something a little…downmarket. Declassé.

So basically it’s a perfect present for the people in your life that you feel – ambivalent about. We all know a few. So does Betty, clearly. I wonder who Betty is giving this one to…

My favorite bit is probably the very last line, in tiny print at the bottom. It takes the metaphorical cake: “Makes great frosting, too!”

Thanks for sharing.

But Liquor Is Quicker

Welcome to a week of Halloween Retro…which means, in the main, candy ads and – well, later this week we’ll meet a depressed pumpkin cookie (and possibly eavesdrop on one of his analytic sessions), learn some wacky Sealtest Halloween non-pranks…And last but not least, we will encounter some little shrunken heads that Betty Crocker, that noted anthropologist, stuck on some unsuspecting brownies.

And that’s just the beginning!

Wait…no, that’s not the beginning. This is:

In this case, candy probably isn’t so dandy. That candy is squashed from the Lady in Red sitting on it by mistake.

This must be a classic Halloween date – also known as the Trick Or Treat. First she gets tricked: her friend said he was a Byronic, dark, moody type and look who shows up – Zeppo Marx on a sugar high. And the chocolate is the treat. Get it? (Oh fine, don’t laugh…it’s Monday morning, and we’re all doing our best, I suppose).

And what smirking behind the couch is in aid of…nope, not gonna speculate. If I were her, I’d grab my mad money and go. Don’t forget to take the chocolate, Sally – it looks salvageable. You can eat it in front of the TV later (perhaps one with an amazing blaxide tube, if you’re lucky).

(Ad from Duke University Ad Access; they say it’s from 1947, and I believe them!)