Cherry Loaf

Sometimes, I imagine caker ingredients competing in a beauty pageant. Why, here comes Miss Dream Whip (note the pale complexion). Next up, it’s Miss Tomato Soup (she’s a tangy one, fellas). And let’s not forget Miss Shredded Coconut (a little scattered). But no contestant comes close to the Red Number 4 glory of Miss Maraschino Cherry.

Plump, bright and shellacked in high fructose corn syrup, Miss Maraschino Cherry has style, sophistication and definitely leaves her mark. (Seriously, don’t get maraschino cherry juice on your counter.) From scaling the heights of an ice cream sundae to diving into the depths of an icy Coke, Miss Maraschino Cherry makes Alexis Carrington look like Mama June.

This Cherry Loaf took me back to my Betty Crocker Easy-Bake Oven days (not that I was allowed to have one – I had to steal borrow it from a female friend) because one of the mixes was cherry and the cake had the same pink colour as this loaf. Come to think of it, I blame Betty Crocker for turning me into a caker in the first place. I mean, baking with a light bulb? That’s more caker than a microwave.

1 c. w. sugar
1 egg
1/8 tsp. salt
½ c. butter
Small bottle cherries
Pour juice into a cup and fill with milk (see note 1)
2 c. flour
2 tsp. B. powder
1/2 c. walnuts and raisins may be added.
When you add the cherries, use electric mixer and they will cut into small pieces. Bake in loaf pan 1 hr. (see note 2)

Note 1: I assumed “a cup” meant a 1-cup measuring cup. Also, I couldn't find a small bottle, so estimated half of a large bottle.
Note 2: Caker ladies aren’t always the most thorough with their instructions. I baked mine at 350.

Source: Wheatland Cooks Celebrate

Marshmallow Waldorf Salad

I’ve tried, I’ve really tried, but I can’t get with vegetables and fruit mixed together. Yes, even when there are mini-marshmallows in the mix.

So it should come as no surprise that I wasn’t looking forward to making Waldorf Salad. This great-aunt caker luncheon staple is usually served alongside ham slices, radishes, devilled eggs and forced laughter. Waldorf Salad, for those of you unawares, calls for apples and celery. Folks, if the Good Lord had wanted apples and celery to be eaten together, He would’ve created appelery.

Now, because I make a pledge not to waste food on this blog, I had to eat this salad for lunch every day for an entire week. And, truth be told, it started to grow on me by the end. The walnuts and the marshmallows were like buffers that made the celery and apples a little more tolerable. I stress a little. Suffice to say, I won't be inviting celery and apple to come swim in my aboveground pool anytime soon. The rest of you? Grab your flotation device and come on down. The pool is officially open and my sarong is on.

3 c. diced unpeeled apples
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
1 c. miniature marshmallows
1 c. chopped celery
¼ c. chopped walnuts
mayonnaise

Sprinkle the apples with the lemon juice. Add marshmallows, celery and nuts. Add enough mayonnaise to moisten. Toss lightly.

Source: Wheatland Cooks Celebrate, Wheatland U.C.W., Saskatchewan

Special thanks to Caker Cooking reader Carroll for sending me this cookbook!

Salmon Loaf

Behold! I give you the glorious tapestry known as Salmon Loaf!

Okay, it’s not the most attractive thing in the world. But need I remind you how disgusting salmon looks when it comes out of the can? There are all those slithery grey bits of skin and bones sticking out and sometimes, depending on how much the salmon canner was slacking off, you’ll find a lone salmon eye staring back at you.

Cakers love salmon. (It comes in a can, after all.) But we usually stick to pink salmon. It’s the paler, cheaper cousin of sockeye. We mainly use it in salmon sandwiches (pronounced "sammin sammitches") made with white, buttered bread. My great-grandmother survived on salmon sandwiches and she lived to be almost 100. Of course, her house probably smelled like Captain Highliner’s beard.

This recipe called for a 8” x 12” pan, which I used. But I was a little disappointed that I didn’t opt for my loaf pan. After all, if you’re going to call something a loaf, it should look like a loaf. What you’re looking at here could easily be called Salmon Squares. And without a sprinkling of shredded coconut on top, that just seems wrong.

Looks aside, this salmon loaf tasted great. Just watch for bones. And eyes.

1 large can salmon (see note 1)
2 cups crushed soda crackers
1 ½ cups milk
2 eggs beaten
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon mustard
¼ cup melted butter
1 tablespoon vinegar

Mix all ingredients together. Press into cooking dish approx. 8” x 12.” Can be served hot or cold. Cook at 350 deg. for 1 hr. Put salmon can in oven with water to keep salmon loaf moist. (see note 2)

Note 1: You can usually find the larger cans, but if not, I'd use two regular-sized cans. Or maybe three?
Note 2: I was going to do this, but then got freaked out thinking about the fumes from the label glue. So I put water in another baking dish and set it next to the loaf.

Source: Happiness is Cooking with Lockhart School, Newcastle, Ontario

Lady Fingers

I live next to a senior’s residence and every morning, an old woman wearing wraparound sunglasses and a baseball hat dumps stale bread in the park across the street. I’m like, “Damn, girl, why let the pigeons have all that goodness?” So, as soon as she’s gone, I run over, scoop up the bread and hurry home before I get revenge-shat on by the pigeons.

Caker creativity shines brightest with stale white bread. There are lots of things we do with it. We cut shapes into it for block printing. We use it as a sponge to wash our Chevettes. We also rub it on our feet to get rid of callouses before open-toed-heel season starts.

This recipe magically turns old bread into the daintiest delicacy of all: Lady Fingers! While I nibbled on these, I kept imagining myself among society ladies named Tipsy and Blousy, discussing things like polo and alimony. As to how these tasted – delicious! Just like a chocolate coconut donut. Tipsy won't suspect a thing. You might want to give her an umbrella, though. Pigeons can hold grudges.

1 loaf unsliced day-old bread (see note)
5 tablespoons cocoa
1 ½ cups sugar
3 tablespoons butter
3 teaspoons vanilla
9 tablespoons hot water
Coconut

Cut crusts off loaf. Cut into 1” slices. Cut slices into 1” wide strips. Mix together cocoa, sugar, butter, vanilla and hot water in saucepan. Boil for 5 minutes. Dip the bread strips into the chocolate. Roll in shredded coconut.

Note: I let my bread stay out overnight, but it was still pretty soft when I cut into it. Damn those preservatives! So I cut it and let the pieces dry out more.

Source: Church of the Hosannas Centennial Cookbook, Hyde Park, Ontario

Puppy Chow

What the heck is going on with dog food these days? Take one look at the ingredients and you’ll see things like duck, organic blueberries and filet mignon in a bordelaise sauce. And let’s not get started on how much it costs.

I had a dog growing up and here’s what we fed him: orange and brown Ken-L-Ration food (it looked like Play-Do pushed through a meat grinder), little discs of brown wax called “Chocolate Drops,” and, at Christmas, red and green-dyed rawhide sticks. Heck, we’d even let him lap up the milk from our cereal bowls. It saved us having to wash them.

You know what? That dog lived until he was 18. Of course, the fact that we never got him fixed might’ve had something to do with it. He was likely holding onto the hope he’d eventually get something other than a leg.

In spite of its name, Puppy Chow isn’t dog food. It’s caker food. And it’s dog-gone delicious. You get the sweetness of the icing sugar mixed in with the creaminess of the peanut butter, not to mention all that free riboflavin in the Crispix. Move over, dogs. This one’s for the people.

8 cups Crispix cereal
½ cup margarine or butter
½ cup creamy peanut butter
½ cup chocolate morsels
2 cups powdered sugar

Melt butter. Add peanut butter and morsels. Stir well until melted. In large bowl, pour over cereal. Stir until cereal is coated. Put sugar in large plastic bag. Add cereal mix. Shake well.

Source: Our 20th Anniversary Cookbook, Lambeth Co-operative Playschool Inc.

Battle of the Veggie Dips: Marlene vs. the Winnipeg Ceramic Club

Marlene's Vegetable Dip

Now that the warmer weather is here, many cakers will be coming out of hibernation, trading in their cowl neck sweaters for wedges and tube tops – and those are just the men. We’ll also start entertaining, which means airing out the basement, washing the toilet tank fur and polishing the Tupperware.

It also means putting on a spread. And while cakers, in general, aren’t vegetable enthusiasts, we’ll tolerate a veggie tray every now and then provided those veggies come with a side of saturated fat.

The Winnipeg Ceramic Club's Veggie Dip

I couldn’t decide which of these veggie dips to make, since they both looked pretty good. Marlene’s called for Cheez Whiz and the Winnipeg Ceramic Club recipe called for that caker elixir, Catalina salad dressing. So I made both, slipped on the wedges and invited a friend over to taste-test both.

It was a tough call, but overall, the Winnipeg Ceramic Club’s recipe packed more punch in the flavour department. It was the right mix of tang and sweetness. Having said that, I fell in love with the colour of Marlene’s dip and decided to paint my walls with it. Now I’m starting to worry about the smell when the first heat wave hits.


Marlene’s Vegetable Dip
½ cup Cheez Whiz
1 cup mayonnaise
sprinkle garlic powder
Cream well, serve with sliced vegetables.

Source: Our Favorite Recipes Cookbook, ICU/CCU The General Hospital Health Sciences Centre, St. John’s, Newfoundland











Veggie Dip
8 ounces cream cheese
½ cup ketchup
¼ cup Catalina dressing
1 tablespoon chopped onion
Mix together until smooth and creamy.

Source: Our Favourite Recipes Cookbook, C.F.B. Winnipeg Ceramic Club

Cheghetti

If you’re ever around Italian people, you know they’re passionate about three things: spaghetti, designer sunglasses and singing superstar Raffaella Carrà.

Please, fellow cakers, never tell Italians how we make spaghetti. Don’t say that we put oil in the water and throw spaghetti against a wall to check if it’s done. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of a lot of Italian words – and none too positive-sounding. Whatever you do, don’t mention Ragu unless you’re prepared to deal with a lot of hand gesturing.

Let’s keep this Cheghetti recipe between us. The Italians don’t need to know how much we love spaghetti with Velveeta. (Which, by the way, is the reason I can’t afford designer sunglasses since Velveeta costs eight cockadoodle dollars.) The Italians won’t understand it. They won’t believe it tastes good. But you and I know differently. In fact, my mom said this tasted better than her Macaroni Casserole. This is major.

P.S. Don’t forget to scrape the spaghetti off the wall.

¾ pound ground steak (See note 1)
1 large onion
1 green pepper
1 ½ cup cooked spaghetti (break up 1 and 2 inches) (See note 2)
1 small can tomato sauce
½ pound Velveeta cheese

Brown steak, onion and pepper. Add the cooked spaghetti, tomato sauce and ½ of the cheese, cubed. Place this in casserole and slice the remaining cheese on top. Bake 15-20 minutes at 350° or until cheese browns. Serve 4-5.

Note 1: I had to use ground beef because the Velveeta took up most of my budget.
Note 2: Break up the pasta before boiling it. It’s a lot easier that way. I’m speaking from experience.

Source: From Our Kitchens…With Love, Glen Ayr United Church Women