A Calendar of Dinners with 615 Recipes, Including the Story of Crisco

This copy is actually the 14th, not the first edition. ( )

Written in the days before manufacturers had to substantiate any of their claims, Story of Crisco is a mashed-up monument to 20th century advertising tactics. Why take our chances with dirty old animal fats, when modern science has produced a clean, sweet, pure, perfectly digestible wonder food? Sure, they admit, people love butter. But have you ever eaten a stick of plain butter? Have you? The writers urge you to give it a shot, and then eat some straight Crisco. See? Equally bad!

It's simply impossible to imagine a more pleasant place than the gleaming, sterile, modern factory in which Crisco is produced, the book trills at us. In fact, the virgin purity of Crisco is such that it remains untouched by human hand until you yourself tear open the seal in the privacy of your own kitchen, after which it remains in an incorruptible state of grace, like one of those saints whose body never goes bad after death. Its purity is so inviolable, in fact, that you could endlessly reuse it, frying fish and then donuts and then salad and then fish again, and it would never be tainted by its contents. A miracle! Lest any non-catholic consumers have been put off by the imagery at this point, the book then assures us that Crisco is suitable for vegetarians and (in a peculiarly messianic twist) that it is also the food that the Hebrew Race has been waiting for for 4,000 years. How did we all get by in the Dark Ages Before Crisco?

The recipes range from the helpful (pie crust) to the dubious (Crisco fruit fudge), to the strangely tasty-sounding (curried egg and anchovy sandwich? I may try that one), in an effort to prove that Crisco is an essential part of every meal, from salad to dessert.

The illustrations are equally strange and delightful. Recommended reading for fellow cookbook fans and for anyone interested in highly manipulative ad campaigns.
( )