Category Archives: People Food

Prig – The Other Red Meat

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

MRS. RODMAN WANAMAKER, charming young socialite.

When I first saw this picture I thought “That’s Betty Draper” from Mad Men; WTF! Of course, it’s not Betty – this ad came out in the Fifties so it’s roughly the right era for Betty, but it’s just a coincidence, or perhaps its a testament to how well Mad Men did at getting the visuals right in the series. But one thing this woman shares with Betty is that she’s a prig.

All of the people in these ads are. In the autumn, they throw the old prigskin around, have nightmares about roast suckling prig in the spring (have to write about that one some time), and tell their children the story of the Three Little Prigs. This ad is a good example of putting lipstick on a prig (literally); for potential new customers these cigarettes must have been like buying a prig in a poke. “When prigs fly!” they might exclaim upon seeing these ads if they had an ounce of racial sensitivity in their priggy bones.

This is one of the Tareyton ads that tip the hint that the American Tobacco Company was aiming at the lower tier of the market with this campaign – the double references to low price and value are the giveaway. The patronizing cynicism of the ad is breathtaking; I have to admire its audacity.

Compositing woes: this card-carrying member of the Aryans From Darien is pasted in on top of a photograph of polo players whose sun is on the other side of the sky from hers. The box of cigarettes looks pretty bad too, but what’s up with those fuzzy binoculars?

What to do with Mrs. W? Perhaps we could feature her in Prigs In A Blanket, or one of the many, many versions of Prig’s Feet (on the East Coast, these are often sold as “DAR trotters”) but I think we have a better idea.

Prig Mayonnaise/Holier-Than-Thou Spread (excellent on the upper crust)

Makes roughly 1/2 cup

1 egg yolk
3/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup liquid prig fat, left from frying

Warm the prig fat enough to soften it to a liquid stage, but not to a high temperature.

Combine the yolk, mustard and lemon juice in the small bowl of a food processor or in a blender and process to mix. Season with salt and pepper.

With the food processor running, gradually add the fat until the mixture starts to stiffen. Once it starts to emulsify, you can add the fat more quickly. If the result is too thick you can add MCT oil, if you have some handy; it is tasteless and liquid at room temperature. Otherwise, you could add hot water. Taste and adjust the seasoning.

Deep-fry some fingers, salt them, and dip them in this magic sauce. You’re golden!


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 24, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: ,

Drowned Socialite

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

MISS DENISE LAWSON-JOHNSTON, of New York and London society. Empty headed as a bag of loon shit, this completely fabricated construct would have you believe she is sitting in front of a swimming pool and not in a photo studio. Discriminating in her choice of cigarettes, Miss Lawson-Johnston says “I even sit this way when no one is watching me, although that never happens.”

Shadows fall in three different directions in this pasteup from the American Tobacco Company – her legs, the diving board, and the umbrellas all have different shadows. This ad is more surreal than most of the Herbert Tareyton efforts from the Fifties; it reminds me of some of the scenes in JG Ballard’s Vermilion Sands, that portrayal of languid, bored rich people who sculpt clouds, sail “land yachts” on the desert and grow lethal singing flowers when they are not expiring from ennui or sports car accidents.

Pasteup or not, she still discriminates, but perhaps not only by choosing the cork tip of the Tareyton. I think the way to deal with her is to follow the lead set by Damon Knight in his classic food story from the 1950s, To Serve Man, and after thinking about how to approach Miss Lawson-Johnston, we decided to present her in her own habitat, that is – DROWNED, or marinated, as it is sometimes also called in cooking circles.

Drowned Socialite

1 large standing rib roast from a prime socialite (about 5 pounds, so you’ll need a socialite roughly the size of Ethyl Merman)

Drowning bath:
1 cup dry red wine
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon crumbled fresh rosemary
1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram
4 cloves fresh garlic, crushed

Spice mixture:
1 tablespoon fresh ground pepper
1 tablespoon paprika
1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon fresh diced, crushed rosemary
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Stir together the wine, onion, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, rosemary, marjoram, and garlic in a bowl.

Drown the socialite in the refrigerator for up to 24 hours, turning regularly. Remove when ready, a decision which is up to you.

Combine the spice mixture and rub it over the meat.*

Place the meat, fat side up, in a large roasting pan.

Roast in a 325F oven to desired doneness, allowing 1 to 3 hours for rare (140F internal temperature), 2 to 3 hours for medium (160 F internal temperature), or 2 to 4 hours for well done (170F internal temperature).

Transfer the meat to a cutting board. Cover with foil and let stand for 15 minutes before carving.

*Note: when baking, if you wish to add a nice touch and you have access to some ham, you can cut it into slivers and insert it into slits cut into the meat. If you don’t have ham, you can always use smoked actor; it amounts to the same thing.

HWÆT! The desire to snare and munch swimming socialites is ancient indeed, as this passage from Beowulf attests:

The warden of Geats,
with bolt from bow, then balked of life,
of wave-work, one monster, amid its heart
went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed
less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.
Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well
hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,
done to death and dragged on the headland,
wave-roamer wondrous.

And that’s before we even meet Grendel’s mother, but nobody would be likely to call her a socialite.



More people food:

Jockey Stew

Cervelles de Mondaine

Socialite’s Cheek in Mustard & Cream Sauce

Socialite’s Liver in Nut Sauce

Leave a comment

Posted by on July 22, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: ,

Jockey Stew


Mr. Peter Perkins, international 8-goal polo player, blah blah.

Possibly the worst of all of the composites that American Tobacco came up with for their “discriminating people” campaign, though there is strong competition; the entire building in the background is from another picture, the dog and the jockey have both been added to the lawn, and the lawn is just plopped on top of the background. There is also a shadow on the background which has no object to cast it (just behind the jockey’s leg on the left).  But bad compositing doesn’t even begin to compare with the message the ad sends, continuing the Herbert Tareyton series of coded wolf whistles to “discriminating people”, otherwise known as bigots.

What to do with this sporty figure? Here’s a totally paleo recipe for those occasions when you are able to get your hands on one. Note: the good “people” at the Zombie Test Kitchen didn’t care much for this recipe, saying it is “too frou-frou”. One must remember that most of the time zombies, when they speak, are actually saying “RRAAWW”.

Jockey Stew

2 1/2 pounds jockey shoulder or butt*, cut into 2-inch chunks
3 fennel bulbs, thinly sliced. Reserve some greens for presentation
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3/4 cup dry white wine
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary
2 teaspoons fresh oregano
3 tomatoes, chopped

* Works well with fox hunter shoulder or butt, too, if jockey is not available. Beagle not included.

Heat oil in Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add meat; sprinkle with 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon pepper. Cook until brown on all sides, 10 minutes or so. Add wine to the pan and scrape up any browned bits; lower the heat.

Add the fennel and onion. Sprinkle the garlic, rosemary, and oregano over the meat. Add the tomatoes.

Cover and cook on low heat for 3 to 4 hours or until you think it’s done. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve garnished with the reserved greens.

As a side note, the rather lean jockey meat makes excellent jerky, too. You can use the Beef Heart Jerky recipe for jockey easily. Jockey jerky is just jake!



Leave a comment

Posted by on July 21, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: , ,

People Food: Cervelles de Mondaine (Discriminating People and…BRAINS)

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

MRS. J. WILLIAM ROBBINS, JR., striking young socialite of Greenwich, Connecticut, blah, blah.

Could the racial subtext be any more obvious in this ad, yet another of the awful composites Herbert Tareyton (the American Tobacco Company) ran in the 1950s featuring pompously-named rich white people lording it over the rest of the Unwashed. (Photoshop would have helped them immeasurably.) Discriminating people prefer Herbert Tareyton, coupled with the selection and depiction of the people in the ads, made for a totally clear message without actually stating it; it’s ideal, in advertising terms. The intended audience: lower/middle class whites – that’s my guess, since otherwise they would never brag about the low cost of the brand, which they do in some of the other ads in the series; additionally, I think it’s fair to say that while people with any sophistication about the media might not buy the concept, bigots of any social class would probably approve and perhaps even purchase some as a result. I think this was a very clever campaign, one that succeeded nicely to judge by its longevity, and one that’s worth singling out for special attention. Maybe this didn’t come from Don Draper, but it could have come from his agency.

These ads make me want to…eat something, LOL.

Harken! Our friends from the Zombie Test Kitchen really like what we have done with Mrs. J. Robin Williams, Jr., because if there’s one thing that zombies don’t like, it’s overcooked food – or sometimes, cooked food at all. We’ve barely cooked these, just a little parboiling and then a quick sauté. As the ad says, THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT THEM YOU’LL LIKE. If you’re a zombie, anyway.

Cervelles de Mondaine (Socialite’s Brains)

Directions, Stage 1
1 striking young socialite’s brain (equivalent: 3 or 4 calves’ brains)
2 tablespoons vinegar
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 onion
1 bay leaf
2 sprigs parsley

Split the brain; wash the brain under cold, running water; remove the membrane. Cover with cold water and let soak 2 hours, changing the water twice. Drain and cover with fresh water; add the vinegar, salt, onion, bay leaf and parsley. Bring to a boil, cover and cook over low heat for 20 minutes. Let cool until you can handle it. If you want to pause here, leave it in the stock, covered, and refrigerate until needed.

Directions, Stage 2
4 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup minced onions
2 tablespoons chopped celery leaves
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Dice the brains. Melt the butter in a skillet; sauté the onions and celery leaves 5 minutes. Add the brains; sauté 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and Worcestershire sauce. Serves 3-4 or one zombie. (Note: zombies don’t have an appestat.)

From The Complete Round The World MEAT Cookbook, by Myra Waldo; this book would have been a contemporary of the socialites featured in these ads, and it would certainly be high on the list of favorite zombie cookbooks, at least when they could have been bothered.

More fun people food on the way! Stay young and monstrous.


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 20, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: , , ,

Socialite’s Cheek in Mustard and Cream Sauce

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Can’t read the fine print? MRS. WILLIAM G. McKNIGHT, charming New York socialite, blah, blah, appears in yet another astonishingly bad pasteup from the Herbert Tareyton cigarette company in the 1950s. Does she look good enough to eat? Not to my taste, anyway, but let’s suppose she did; what could we do with her? Without discriminating, I mean.

This is an old British recipe, the British having had socialites for a considerably longer time than the Yankees. It used to be called Curate’s Cheek as well, referring to that part of the curate which was likely to be the toughest, it having spent so much time sitting down in idleness; this says a lot about how they viewed their curates. Those unfortunates with no easy access to curates’ (or socialites’) cheeks made do with lowly ham. Our modern socialites are much more active and their cheeks are likely to be somewhat more exercised with concomitant changes in muscle texture so you will have to evaluate the cheek in question to decide how you want to treat it. Forthwith, the recipe.

Socialite’s Cheek in Mustard and Cream Sauce
This is a very easy recipe to prepare, wonderfully quick for those times when you need something special but have only limited resources to work with. Fit for kings and commoners, this dish never fails to please. Even the team in the Zombie Test Kitchen likes this one! (Although to be fair, they are not overly picky, but they do prefer raw cuts.) Because it uses sugar, this recipe is not strictly paleo and should probably be reserved for special occasions. Serves 4.

1/2 cup brown sugar
1 3/4 tablespoons English mustard powder (or French, if your socialite est du monde)
1 pound cooked (cured) cheek (ham will work in a pinch), thickly sliced
1/2 cup heavy cream
Watercress, for garnishing the socialite’s cheek

Preheat the oven to 300 F

Mix the sugar and mustard in a small bowl. Place the cheek in a small ovenproof dish and sprinkle about a tablespoon of the mustard and sugar mixture over the cheek slices. Put any remaining mustard and sugar over the top slice and add the cream.

Bake uncovered for 20 minutes and then covered for another 10.

Put a little watercress on each of the socialite’s cheeks before serving them.

That’s all there is to it! Have fun, bring out your inner child, and stay young and monstrous.


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 19, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: , , , , ,

Socialite’s Liver In Nut Sauce

Many people are repelled by the flavor of liver, which is a shame, as it is one of the most nutritious meats you can eat. Mrs. Tyrannocaster doesn’t like it much, while I am a well wisher in the style of The Simpsons – I don’t wish it any specific harm. But Mrs. T has found a recipe that is tolerable even for her, and I actually like it:

Socialite’s Liver In Nut Sauce

I don’t have any photos of the dish (cooked liver always looks gray when I photograph it no matter what I do; I’m really a lousy food photographer) but here’s an image of a perfect organ donor in its prime:

Can’t read the text? Mrs. Harry B. Mathews, the former Agnès de Saint-Phalle of Paris and New York society. Discriminating in her choice of cigarettes, Mrs. Mathews says: “I like the cork tip and better taste of Herbert Tareyton.”

Socialite’s Liver In Nut Sauce/Fígado
(If you can’t find a socialite you could use beef or calf’s liver instead, but debutante’s liver is even more delicious, though somewhat harder to acquire.)

1 pound socialite’s liver
3 tablespoons oil (we use tallow, lard, coconut, whatever is handy)
3/4 cup chopped onions
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup ground walnuts, pecans or almonds
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind (DO NOT SKIP)
1/2 cup chicken broth

Rinse the liver, cut in narrow strips, and dry on paper towels.

Heat the oil in a skillet, sauté the onions and garlic 10 minutes. Add the liver; sauté until no pink remains. Mix in the nuts, salt, pepper, lemon rind, and broth; cook over low heat 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Serves 4

This dish is very good, and it makes it a lot easier to get into organ meat. It’s also pretty easy to fix, which is a plus, and the lemon rind adds a nice element; it’s one of those things that, once you taste it, makes you realize that you’ve been missing it all along. I will have more to say later about the socialites that Herbert Tareyton was sucking up to in the Fifties, but for now,

Stay young and monstrous.



Posted by on July 9, 2014 in Corporations, People Food


Tags: , , , ,