The Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Sixties Cookbook (22 page)

Not your scene? Broil 5 lobster tails, brushed with melted butter, about 8 inches from the source of heat, until the meat is opaque, about 8 minutes. Remove the meat from the shells, chop it up, and you are ready to Newberg-ize the lobster.

The Name Game

Like many well-known dishes, Lobster Newberg was named for the person who invented it. Well, sort of . . . The dish was originated by Ben Wenberg, a patron at celebrity hangout Delmonico’s in the 1870s, and “Lobster Wenberg” ended up on the menu. When restaurant owner and customer had a falling-out, the dish was renamed
New
berg. Banana-fana fo unfair!

MATTERHORN FONDUE

MAKES 4 TO 6 SERVINGS

In the early Sixties, the biggest attraction in the country was Disneyland’s Matterhorn Bobsleds ride. The 147-foot-high attraction—a true
scale replica of the actual mountain in Switzerland—loomed large in both fun and food culture. By the mid-Sixties, fondue was a hit at home and in restaurants. Dating back to seventeenth century Switzerland, fondue is technically a mix of different cheese, wine, and seasonings melted and served in a communal pot. Today, there are all kinds of heated sauces that share the same name, including savory, fruit, and chocolate choices.

2½ cups (9 ounces) shredded Gruyère cheese

2½ cups (9 ounces) shredded Emmentaler cheese

½ cup (3 ounces), ½-inch diced Appenzeller cheese

4 teaspoons cornstarch

1 garlic clove, peeled

1 cup dry white wine (see Stick a Fork in It: Fondue Tips on opposite page)

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 tablespoon kirsch, Cognac, or brandy

A few gratings of fresh nutmeg

Freshly ground pepper, to taste

1.
Toss the Gruyère, Emmentaler, and Appenzeller cheese with the cornstarch in a large bowl.

2.
Rub the inside of a heavy-bottomed medium saucepan with the garlic; discard the garlic. Add the wine and lemon juice and bring to a bare simmer over medium heat.

3.
A handful at a time, stir the cheese mixture into the wine, stirring the first batch until it is almost completely melted before adding another. The fondue can bubble gently, but do not boil. Stir in the kirsch and season with the nutmeg and pepper.

4.
Transfer to a cheese fondue pot and keep warm over a fondue burner. Serve immediately, with dipping ingredients of your choice.

Stick a Fork in It: Fondue Tips

Fondue can be temperamental, unless you follow these tips.

• The fondue pot is really to keep the cooked fondue warm, and not meant for tableside cooking. Make the fondue in the kitchen, transfer to the pot, and then serve.

• The wine must be crisp and acidic, because if the wine is too soft, the cheese won’t melt properly. Pinot grigio is a good choice; avoid chardonnay. The lemon adds a bit more acidity; substitute white wine vinegar, if you prefer.

• Don’t let the fondue boil, or it will get grainy.

• Use all Gruyère, and skip the Emmentaler and Appenzeller, if you wish.

• When dipping the bread, drag it along the bottom of the pot to discourage the fondue from burning.

Swiss Secrets

The rise of Swiss food, particularly fondue, in the Sixties is another example of how international cuisine influenced American cooking. The classic cheese version first popped up on the American restaurant scene at Le Chalet Suisse in New York in 1956. It took off like an ignited Sterno, and by 1964, the restaurant’s chef was asked to create a chocolate fondue with Toblerone chocolate. Although one can theorize about how the increase of European food products in the marketplace helped fuel the fad, we believe Walt Disney had something to do with it too.

Every Sunday night, before Ed Sullivan’s variety hour, millions of people (and not just kids) tuned into Uncle Walt’s extravaganza of a television show. Disneyland was heavily promoted on the show, and the theme park was home to the ultimate roller coaster in the country: the Matterhorn. A towering replica of the real mountain in Switzerland (and the scene of some tense moments in Disney’s live-action film
Third Man on the Mountain
), with speeding toboggans racing through it, the first tubular steel roller coaster in the world was the Holy Grail of rides. Since cross-country travel was rare at the time, most kids could only dream of visiting the modern marvel. Did the Swiss food craze start because families had to make do with fondue? We say
ja
.

Random Disneyland trivia: one of us—we won’t say who—was actually a plaid-skirted tour guide at Disneyland back in the day, so we can confirm the rumors are true: there is actually a basketball court inside the top of the Matterhorn.

“DON’T MESS WITH MOM” TUNA AND NOODLE CASSEROLE

MAKES 6 SERVINGS

Sometimes, you just can’t mess with Mom. We considered updating this recipe, until we tasted the original, and were overcome by a pimiento-studded wave of childhood memories. This casserole was so easy to make it became a staple in many households, especially on Fridays during Lent.

Softened butter, for the casserole

6 cups (8 ounces) medium egg noodles

1 (10.75-ounce) can condensed cream of mushroom soup

¾ cup milk

2 (6-ounce) cans chunk tuna, drained and flaked

1 cup frozen peas, placed in a sieve and rinsed under hot water to lightly thaw

2 tablespoons drained and chopped pimiento (optional)

¾ cup crushed potato chips or croutons

1.
Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly butter a 1½-quart casserole or baking dish.

2.
Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the noodles and cook according to the package directions until almost tender. Remember, the noodles are going to be baked, so don’t overcook them. Drain and return to the saucepan.

3.
Add the soup, milk, tuna, peas, and pimiento, if using, and stir well. Transfer to the casserole and top with the potato chips.

4.
Bake until the edges are bubbling, about 25 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes, then serve hot.

CHILE RELLENOS CASSEROLE

MAKES 4 TO 6 SERVINGS

California cuisine was finding its footing in the Sixties, particularly with the introduction of Mexican influences into American food culture. Traditional
chile rellenos-stuffed
, battered, and deep-fried—is not the easiest of entrées to make for a party, unless you transform them into the oh-so-Sixties casserole form, as we’ve done here. This ultra-California dish is best enjoyed to the strains of the Beach Boys. A Malibu setting is entirely optional.

Softened butter, for the baking dish

3 (7-ounce) cans of green chiles, split lengthwise

2 cups (8 ounces) shredded sharp Cheddar cheese or Mexican cheese mix; divided

5 large eggs

1¼ cups half-and-half

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1¾ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

1 (8-ounce) can tomato sauce

1 tablespoon chili powder

1.
Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter a 13-by-9-inch baking dish.

2.
Spread half of the chiles in the baking dish and sprinkle with 1 cup of cheese. Top with the remaining chiles. Whisk the eggs, half-and-half, flour, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl to dissolve the flour. Pour into the baking dish.

3.
Bake until the egg mixture is puffed and beginning to brown, about 30 minutes. Mix the tomato sauce and chili powder in a small bowl. Spread over the egg mixture and sprinkle with the remaining 1 cup cheese. Continue baking until the cheese melts, about 5 minutes longer.

4.
Let stand 5 minutes, then serve hot.

CHAPTER 5

BEST SUPPORTING PLAYERS: VEGETABLES AND SIDE DISHES

I
n the Sixties, vegetables were often relegated to the background, not because of a national aversion, but limited local availability.

In a world full of exotic and organic fruits and vegetables, it’s easy to forget it wasn’t always that way. Before jet planes delivered blueberries from Chile to the neighborhood market in February, there could be a pretty long wait between fall and spring for fresh produce. In the meantime, potatoes, carrots, and their rather bland relatives had to do. This is why frozen veggies were such a food revolution—before that, home cooks had even less choice and were limited to their local farms, seasonal crops, and good harvests.

While the midcentury choices were basic compared to today, creative Sixties cooks often added cream sauces (and even more often, in the form of canned soup) to add a little oomph. Here are some of the best vegetable and side dishes of the era—proof that many moms did more than just spread cream cheese or peanut butter on celery sticks, sprinkle them with raisins, and call it a day (although on the days she did, we didn’t complain).