amylsacks' photos

Yeah, the Jellied Smoked Tongue and the Liver Chow Mein do sound mighty good. Too bad I turned vegetarian about six or seven chapters ago.

I don't know what the green fog is supposed to represent. Existential dread? Valium? Nuclear fallout?

"...for the Family 'Chef.' " Because it's not like you're really a skilled worker or anything, Sweetheart. Coochie-coo! Now be quiet and read along as best you can. The men have wisdom to impart! Front cover and first page of a 40-page epic published by the National Live Stock and Meat Board, Chicago, Illinois.

Tomorrow, let's all try pouring booze on our breakfast fruit! Whadaya' say? From the March issue of Sports Afield.

I don't feel very patriotic reading this. I only have one type of vermouth in the cupboard. Both sides of a leaflet published by Pleasant Valley Wine Co., Rheims, N.Y.

Diapenda & Nevabind-- ask your doctor about them-- Today!!

If the flower had just a few more petals, nobody would notice how weird that kid's legs are. One side of a fold-out from Meier & Frank Co., Inc.

A contender for worst ladies luncheon of the decade. (Any decade, really.) The soup appears to have toothpaste as its base. The gelatine was obviously flavored with the coffee-esque powder and possibly with strands of spaghetti, too. The cake looks like it was carved from a block of cement. Even the way everything's jammed together in the layout makes me feel kinda' woozy. From the May issue of Everywoman's Family Circle.

(L.) Please tell me somebody based a quilt design on these sandwiches. (Including the banana-liverwurst combo.) Because that would rock. (R.) The foods-for-kiddies page also looks great, though I don't know what animal the salt and pepper shakers are meant to be. (Donkeys? A Chihuahua-Doberman mix?) Or why you'd need to salt and pepper a Banana "Junior Custard" in the first place. Some mysteries aren't meant to be solved, I guess.

In the instructions for Banana Frosting (which sounds like it might be pretty good), they specify using a "silver fork" to mash the fruit with. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was like serving caviar, and the wrong utensil substance would destroy their delicate bouquet or something.

On the left, you can see why they nicknamed this dish "Banana Slug Delight." [shudder]. Meanwhile, on the center right, the trippy Deco patterns keep everyone from noticing that their banana has been rolled in mayonnaise before being, er, studded with nuts.

...Still, somehow the banana-bacon combo got on through. To this day, nobody's sure how it happened.

When bananas got into trouble back then, their press agent talked privately with Hearst and made sure that the public never found out...

The inside of the front and back covers. The placid pink coloring here reflects how much the locals loved giving us all their food and labor, before Che' and Castro showed up to ruin everything.

By 1931, it should have been okay to start conversation at parties using gin and vermouth again. Maybe this booklet was targeted at hostesses who didn't drink. From a 24-page promo published by Fruit Dispatch Co.

"Man-tailored, magnificently feminine." Uh, yeah. Is this like that killer episode of Pinky and the Brain in which Calvin Brain explained that his fashions were "Big, yet small... Dry and yet... slightly moist..."? From the May issue of Everywoman's Family Circle magazine.

I wonder which shoulder yielded the "good shoulder meat." And if this was where the "good" side ended up, what happened to the "bad"? From the August issue of Woman's Day.

John Wayne: Interior Design Specialist.