Tommy Tucker the Thanksgiving Squirrel

With only a couple days left for Americans to remember that for which they are truly grateful, I decided to join the thankful throngs and entertain the same thoughts myself.  As I ponder the many things for which I am ever appreciative, I can't help but reflect on my travels.  I am not especially well-traveled but with the opportunity to explore other countries and other cultures, I am reminded that wacky tacky knows no creed, color, geographic boundary...nor species.

I was overjoyed when, in Kyoto, we stumbled upon a
staged family of Tanuki (Japanese raccoon dogs) going
about the rigors of daily life in feudal Japan.

I imagine that dressing and staging a whole tanuki family is quite the undertaking, but obviously this taxidermied bunch wasn't putting up much of a fight.  Imagine dressing a real, live squirrel!

Little Tommy Tucker, the muse and ward of  Mrs. Mark Bullis of Washington D.C., was
orphaned at birth.  With a wardrobe of thirty, couture outfits of Bullis' own design, Tommy
(and his French Bulldog) became a mild sensation in wartime America after his feature
in Life Magazine.
(Source)

I'm assuming that Mrs. Bullis named Tommy after the old English nursery rhyme of the same name:

"Little Tommy Tucker 

Sings for his supper.

What shall he eat?

White bread and butter.

How shall he cut it without any knife?

How will he be married without a wife?"

Don't let a squirrel fool you; it is entirely possible to eat bread and butter without a knife (plenty can be accomplished with  dull spoon - plus, arming a squirrel is never a good idea).  On the other hand, it is probably no small task to woo a squirrel wife while sporting a tartan-plaid pinafore; you might be wondering why Tommy, a boy squirrel, is dressed in such a feminine frock.  Well, have you ever tried to get a live squirrel into a pair of Sunday britches??!!!  You also might be wondering how one distinguishes a boy squirrel from a girl squirrel, anyway?  The answer is easy; check his nuts.

Dressed in his marketing ensemble, it appears that Tommy indeed sang for his supper.
Although what supper he would be getting from the butcher shop remains a mystery.
Frankly, I would be afraid to take my pet squirrel to the sausage company
during WWII when food was rationed and meat was scarce.
(Source)

After marketing, Tommy becomes a model for the latest in trans-rodent fashion
including ric rac, stripes, gingham, prints, and "a pleated, silk dress for company."
His credits include "professional model" but he looks a little squirrelly to me...
(Source)

All play and no work makes Tommy a silly squirrel.
Tommy was sure to make time for entertaining hospital-bound children while wearing his Red Cross uniform.
(Source)

All tucker-ed out at the end of a productive day, Tommy makes sure to
wash behind his ears and say his prayers before drifting off to dreamland.
(Source)

Once we had a baby bird fall into our spa and, after rescuing it from drowning and trying our best to foster it, it quickly earned its figurative wings in glory land.  I'm not really an animal person; while I could imagine nurturing the baby bird, I certainly couldn't imagine making it a full costume collection and taking it to the grocery store - and I have a pretty darn good imagination!

Have you ever adopted a wild animal into your family?  We may or may not have a tiny, baby lizard currently occupying the spare bedroom but as we have yet to feed it or sew a single stitch, I'm not sure that counts.  Nevertheless, when I count my blessings this Thanksgiving, I will definitely include Mrs. Bullis, Tommy, and all the others who make wacky tacky a full-time job.

"Hi-Heel Sneakers" - Tommy Tucker (1964)

For the cross-dressing squirrel who has everything! 

Happy Thanksgiving!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Coconut Curry Volcano

If someone asked you if you had a "ring mold," I dare say that your initial reaction would be to immediately make the earliest available appointment with your dermatologist.  Contemporary kitchens have all but abandoned the ring mold - in actual fact, an effective kitchen tool paramount in western culinary tradition until the advent of such highbrow, television programs as "Extreme Garnishing" and "Food Feng Shui" (check your local listings...or don't, it's entirely possible that I just made these up).

Savory or sweet, the ring mold is always fusing form with function.

As you might have gathered, as I page through old periodicals, I'm always inspired by photographs of the odd, if altogether festive, foodstuffs.  A common trend among the images is the use of the ring mold for everything from hearty beef stew to creamy custards.  The ring mold is a wonderfully-blank canvas on which to create mesmerizing mealtime masterpieces.  Disappointed that we have collectively turned our back on the ring mold, I decided to resurrect its use in today's kitchen - where I think we have strayed so far into post-modern food presentation that it is high time that the tide turn back to goofy, yet glamorous, dinnertime design.  The old advertisements that I found had me thinking that a cool direction to take the ring mold would be east...far east.  I thought a pan-Pacific theme would be an ideal culinary tradition upon which to build.  Given the shape of the mold and my general flavor profile, what else could I make but a COCONUT CURRY VOLCANO?!?!?!

Teaming with the theme, I laid the table with several remnants of
Chinese brocade that I had in the stash and topped it with bamboo
placemats and flatware, Asian figurines, Japanese dishes, mismatched
chopsticks, and fresh flowers.  I call it "Pan-Pacific Pastiche!"

It is probably best that one's food, particularly when it is curry based, never be associated with something so...eruptive.  Nevertheless, spicy curry in a rice-y ring spoke to the chop suey-flavored menus of exotic, mid-century restaurants; a volcano just seemed like the natural progression.

I've mentioned before that I detest waste - especially when it comes to food.  I'm becoming famous for my treatment of leftovers that leaves those eating totally unaware of the previous meal from which the current one started its life.  A curry was the perfect foil for the chunks of chicken and remnants of roast that needed to be repurposed at our house; it is also an ideal base for any leftover proteins and/or vegetables you might have on hand.

Coconut Curry Volcano
I was concerned that it would become a giant mess before I made the presentation but the sticky, densely-
packed, coconut rice straight from the ring mold created a wonderfully- impenetrable barrier.  Success!

MR TINY'S COCONUT CURRY

Ingredients:

1 14 oz. Can of coconut milk

1 Large onion sliced

2 Cloves of garlic minced

1 Medium yam or sweet potato cubed

2 Large carrots chopped (or a couple handfuls of baby carrots)

2 Potatoes (any variety) cubed

1 Tbsp. Sugar

2 Tbsp. Curry Paste (any variety)

2 Tbsp. Fish Sauce*

Chili flakes*

1 Bunch of cilantro/coriander chopped*

Any leftover protein (chicken, pork, beef, tofu)*

Shredded Coconut

Water

Rice (any variety, and enough to fill a ring mold) prepare as directed on package

Directions:

In a saucepan, boil carrots, yam, and potatoes until fork tender.  Drain and set aside.

Start a heavy-bottomed pot on medium-high heat.  Skim the coconut oil off the top of the canned coconut milk and add to the pot to use as your cooking medium.  Add onion and saute until translucent.
Add garlic and cook just until fragrant.  Add curry paste and chili flakes (to taste) and mix into onions and garlic (many of the spices in curry paste are oil soluble and need to bloom in the heat of the oil).  Add protein and cook until heated through.  Add coconut milk, sugar, and fish sauce.  Lightly rinse the coconut milk can and add about 1/2 can of water to the curry.  Add vegetables to the mixture.  Reduce heat and simmer until ready to serve.

Prepare rice in a rice cooker or according to package instructions (to underscore the coconut flavor in the curry, I added about 1/2 cup of shredded coconut to the rice).  Press rice into a ring mold prepared with cooking spray.  Unmold rice onto a serving tray, fill with curry, and garnish with cilantro.

Lava flow!!!

Although I am well known for my leftover makeovers, I have a strict policy against leftover leftovers.  Knowing that I had made quite a bit of food, I sent out a text message inviting several people over for a supper of Coconut Curry Volcano.  In response, one text inquired, "What does that mean?"  My only reply was, "Bring your bib and come on over!"

Haunted George versus The Volcano
He liked it so much that he had two helpings -
after washing his hands and saying grace, of course.

Then again, his shirt kind of says it all...

The next attempt at the Coconut Curry Volcano will definitely include a more-organic, more-volcanic shape (out of brown rice maybe).  We're developing a better presentation as well, with the interactive experience of making the volcano erupt (still hammering out the details of that one).  Until then, enjoy this appropriate musical interlude.

"Volcano" - The Three Suns

Speaking of presentation, get a load of MUSIC MIKE!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Betty Crocker's ColorVision Cake

Usually, I don't go in for boxed cake mixes.  Sure, they can be doctored to achieve scratch-ish results; although, by the time one does the doctoring, it is just as easy to measure one's own dry ingredients to achieve a superior product.  No really, I'm not a cake snob (well, maybe a little...but it would be unforgivable to not have a refined palate after consuming such an unholy amount of baked goods).  It's just that if I'm going to put in all the effort of baking a cake, I simply want it to be the best cake possible.

Everywoman's Magazine - April 1952

Inspired by the cover of Everywoman's Magazine from April 1952 (doesn't every man have back issues of Everywoman's lying around?), I decided that enough time had passed since my last cake-baking fiasco to give the whole thing another go.  I didn't even have to "See pages 50-51 for Everywoman's April Cover Cake Recipe;" all I had to do was flip the magazine over to find a recipe perfectly suited to my abilities (fingers crossed).

Betty Crocker's ColorVision Cake
The instructions are simple: prepare a box of Betty Crocker's Yellow Party Cake Mix as
directed on the package, add just three tablespoons of your favorite Jell-O flavor (in
powdered form), and bake as directed for a "new kind" of spectacularly-hued cake.
  That's...well...a piece of cake!

I am in love with Technicolor.  I find it hard to articulate but in my mind the whole world used to appear in Technicolor.  I don't mean that in reference to a popular color palette; I mean that, based on the countless movies I've seen, I would expect that, given the opportunity to go back in time, I would find a world of texture and color much like the advertisement above - saturated but soft, intense but hazy, bold but bashful.  I know it isn't so; I know that the colors and textures we this year are the same as yesteryear but it's nice to dream!  I figured the closest I'd get to my bold vision of color was a Technicolor cake in the form of Betty Crocker's ColorVision Cake.

Feeling a bit like a hypocrite, having just preached an entire sermon on my preference for scratch cakes, I decided to be true to Betty Crocker circa '52 - prepared cake mix to the rescue!  Using one box of cake mix and one box of Jell-O, I followed the instructions to the tee.

Or as closely as I could...
Searching the pantry for Jell-O, I came a cross a yellow
cake mix of a different manufacture.  Surprised that it was
still within the "Use By" date, I figured that it would be more
prudent to use the cake mix I already owned rather than go out
to buy a new one for the sake of brand loyalty - economy first!

I love peach-flavored everything - candy, soda pop, ice cream.  Thusly, I felt the choice of peach gelatin was truly inspired...until about halfway through the process.  Given the myriad of color/flavor options available to create a TECHNICOLOR CAKE, I went with the one that was, for all intents and purposes, REGULAR CAKE colored!  I actually had a box of Jolly Rancher, green-apple-flavored gelatin dessert in the cupboard and I still went with peach!  I am a peach fiend!

I read somewhere that creating an aluminum foil snuggie around the cake
pans results in cake layers that are less-domed...I thought I'd give it a shot.

In doing a little internet-based research, I discovered that Betty Crocker's website still offers the ColorVision Cake cake among its current catalog of recipes.  I also noticed that a few alterations to the recipe had occurred over the last 61 years.  Firstly, the new recipe calls for a white cake mix; that one actually makes sense as a white cake will allow for a more accurate representation of the desired color.  Secondly, the icing recipe underwent a complete overhaul moving from a Swiss Meringue to a more traditional buttercream.  A flavored buttercream would have been much easier but again, I intended to see this cake through just as 1952 Betty would have wanted me to.

The original icing recipe is as follows:

The remaining powder from the Jell-O packet
2 egg whites
1 C. granulated sugar
1/8 tsp. cream of tartar (I had to eyeball that one.  Is there an 1/8 tsp. measure?  If there is, it wasn't on my measuring spoon ring.)
1/4 C. Water

Combine all ingredients in the top of a double boiler and beat on the high speed of an electric mixer or with rotary beater until icing holds stiff peaks.  Remove from over boiling water and beat about one minute longer.

I don't have a hand held mixer so I used a whisk and then transferred the
contents to a stand mixer to whisk further.  Until just now I couldn't for the
life of me figure out why my arm ached for the rest of the day.
I'm obviously out of shape, whisking and otherwise.

That's what we in the business call a "stiff peak."
The icing ends up being a frothy hybrid of meringue and
marshmallow creme - kind of interesting, kind of unusual.

So much for the aluminum foil "snuggie"
Exaggerated only slightly by the angle of the photo and the hack job
 I did with the icing, this ColorVision Cake was seriously doming. 

What better to treat you with
 than candy peach rings?

For the filling I went rogue.
Determined to use what I had on hand (a cup of white chocolate morsels and some sweetened condensed
 milk), I created a faux ganache, adding both food coloring and some of the dissolved peach Jell-O. 

If there is a theme, in this instance "processed and peachy," I'll run with it.
I served the cake with a dollop of whipped cream and some sliced, canned peaches. 

The Top 5 Realities of Making Betty Crocker's 1952 ColorVision Cake:

1. It takes a lot more than a few scoops of powered gelatin to make something a ColorVision Cake.  Disappointed with the colors (partially my fault for choosing peach), I added a heck of a lot of food coloring to every step (cake, filling, and icing) and still wasn't amazed by the color.
2. I am not a frosting guy anyway, but the foamy meringue/marshmallow creme thing really wasn't doing it for me.
3. Next time (although I have it on good authority that there will not be a ColorVision Cake next time) get wild.  There are unusual flavors, colors, and combinations that can be achieved with Jell-O and I went with something pretty mundane - next time green apple or nothing!
4. Cakes never look as great as they do in the pictures.
5. One should always bake cakes from scratch.

Have you tried any old recipes lately?  Have you had any baking disasters/triumphs about which we should know?  What's your favorite flavor of Jell-O?  Will you give the ColorVision Cake a try?  If you do, please let us know how it turns out.

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: The Luck O' the Irish

It is possible that I've mentioned it here before, but my paternal grandparents were absolutely enchanted by the Emerald Isle.  Having seen The Quiet Man (1952) one too many times, my Yugoslavian grandfather and his Swiss wife named their kids Patrick Joseph, Jeffrey Logan, and Michael Anthony. If they'd had a daughter, there is no doubt in my mind that her name would have been - now you have to imagine this in my best John Wayne impression - "Mary Kate....Danaher."  Yep, they totally would have changed their last name to accommodate the ruse.

The Quiet Man (1952)

A wonderful movie starring John Wayne & Maureen O'Hubba Hubba...err...O'Hara

Committed to their charade, we were raised on a strong Irish-American diet of corned beef, boiled potatoes, and malarkey.  Carrying on in the faux-Irish tradition, I decided to turn to the March issue of Every Woman's Magazine from 1952 (the very same year that The Quiet Man was released) for some wacky tacky St. Paddy's inspiration.

Every Woman's: The Woman's Guide to Better Living - March (1952)

I was anything but disappointed to find a fitting recipe for our type of St. Patrick's Day festivities (totally devoid of actual Irish heritage).  I daren't fiddle with the traditional fare, but our dessert course allows for the taking of some liberties; Mary Alden's St. Pat's Peppermint Candy certainly fit the bill. 

I was sold by the first check mark; "So easy - youngsters can make it!"  I 'll take Mary Alden's word for it.
If a youngster can do it, then chances are I will think I can do it and then be shocked at my own ineptitude!

As it turns out, May Alden was not only the Director of
Home Economics for the Quaker Oats Company, she
 was a successful cookbook author.
Mary Aden's Cook Book for Children is now on my wishlist!
(Source)

Full disclosure:  I used generic crispy rice instead of the called for Quaker
Oats Puffed Rice; I didn't even know they still made the stuff.  Crispy Rice may
be an adequate substitute but "Shot from Guns" it ain't!  Looking more like
Fruity Pebbles than Rice Krispies, I decided in retrospect that I should have
shot the works on name-brand cereal and upped the Irish ante with Lucky Charms! 

As per usual, the outcome of my culinary effort is decidedly less spectacular than my initial desire.  Although, I'm not sure what I had hoped for as my St. Pat's Peppermint Candies look very similar to Mary Alden's.  And really, how life-changing are crispy rice squares supposed to be anyway???

One thing I might change for future St. Patrick's Day sweets is crushing
the peppermints finer.  Allowing for larger pieces of candy (so more of
the green would show) also allowed for the possibility of a broken crown!

Because Mr. Tiny is hopping a boat for a weekend wedding, we decided to celebrate St. Patrick's Day a little prematurely and everybody dug in; the consensus was that Mary Alden had a pretty bright idea when she added crushed peppermints to the standard, rice square recipe.

By the look on his face, I knew I had at least one raving fan!

Do you get creative with your Rice Krispie treats?  What is the craziest thing you've ever added to the mix?  Whether your St. Patrick's Day is spent with all the "traditional" fixings or with a few pals down at the pub, we hope that this March 17 brings you all the luck of a rabbit's foot, a penny, and a four leaf clover!

"I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover" - Art Mooney

Cheers & Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: Clean as a Whistle!

California Living: The Magazine of Western Homes & Gardens - November, 1947
Nothing quite says "California House & Gardens" or "Western" like
a living fashion plate at Rockefeller Center in New York City.

So you thought soap carving was a pastime relegated to inmates at your local correctional facility with the end result being a "shank" or a faux handgun?  Tut, tut.  According to one Ms. Lilliace M. Mitchell, "Soap's A Lot of Fun," and soap carving is the ideal activity "for your next party."  Interested?  Read on.

"Soap's A Lot of Fun"
I think I can identify almost every one of the hand-carved figurines above:
rabbit, Springer Spaniel, penguin, somber duckling,
what the baby of a rooster and a moose antler would look like,
breeching dolphin or banana split, woodpecker with a pompadour 

Don't fret over that empty knick-knack shelf!
For a dollar's worth of Ivory and an evening's worth of fun, you can fill that shelf
with handmade beauty!  Don't forget to coat each carving with clear, nail lacquer.

"Here is an example of what you may be able to accomplish after a sufficient amount of practice."
I'm glad we're not setting the "bar" too high, but I think we should leave the carving of nude,
bathing figures to the inmates.

I will be bold and issue a preemptive "You're welcome," for supplying you with the smash hit of your next smart dinner party or apres-theatre soiree.  I can just imagine the looks of astonishment you will receive when you afford each guest his or her own bar of Lifebuoy or Lux and the "stray nails," "discarded manicure implements," and "pen points no longer used for writing."  Certainly, neither you nor your party will soon be forgotten!

Giving "Clean as a whistle" a whole new meaning!
Ah, yes, but how clean is a whistle?

I am not immune to the thrill of soap carving!  I grabbed a
 cake of Lever 2000 Fresh Aloe and carved a fully-functional
soap whistle.  Perfect for the times when one slips and falls
in the shower.

Indeed, soap IS a lot of fun!  Happy Carving!

BONUS: A timely, cartoon featured in the article.

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: Going MarioNUTS!!!

Much like my life in general, my collecting is unfocused and totally lacking in direction.  Unfortunately, I am unable to limit myself to any specific time period, product or manufacturer.  In essence, I am a hoarder - the modern incarnation of Red Foxx as Fred Sanford  - dealing in junk but also wallowing in it.  The real trouble is that I am surrounded by enablers.  For example, the kid sis was driving around looking at garage sales one day and, stopping at a promising home, she found two issues of Children's Activities Magazine. With a sure understanding of the breadth of my aptitude, the depth of my skill level and the limits of my attention span, she bought them for me.

Children's Activities was published from 1940 - 1948 

and was the model for and precursor to Highlights Magazine

A collection of Children's Activities that is

currently available for purchase on eBay.

I was thrilled upon flipping through the well-preserved pages of my copies of the May 1940 and October 1943 Children's Activities to see that nary a puzzle was completed nor paper doll cut from either issue.  Fatefully, I thumbed a bit further and stumbled across the coloring pages.  To my horror, I found a reckless disregard for coloring inside the lines and a total lack of propriety when it came to realistic representations of colors as they exist in nature.  Furthermore the directions said, "Little Brown Bear is wearing his new orange blouse and blue tie."  Why then would this little miscreant give the Little Orange Bear a green blouse and a red tie?  I paused, recognizing that these pages were more than likely colored in the throes of WWII, and gave the kid a break.  Moreover, I realized what a treasure it was to have these colored pages.  In my eyes they enhance the value of the magazine and document the history of the original owner, namely Darrel McCurdy of Wichita, Kansas.  Every now and again I will return to the pages of Children's Activities and find a real brain teaser -  I still haven't found the train hidden somewhere in the picture of grandma's attic.  On a recent visit to the magazine, however, I found a project complete with instructions on how to create a marionette out of peanuts.  If that isn't fodder for wacky tacky-ana, then I don't know what is!!

I embark on the journey of projects like this with one thought in mind - they were designed for a small child to accomplish.  Surely I, a grown man, could make quick work of this marionette.  I knew I would be performing apres-dinner spectacles the likes of which the Von Trapp children could not even dream!  As it turns out, my crafting skills are marginal at best and the peanut marionettes were a challenge.

Really, who would think that finding peanuts in the shell would be one of the most difficult parts of this endeavor?  Thankfully, the 99cents store came to the rescue!  For the handles we used paint stirrers - free at The Home Depot.  In the end, this was our least expensive wacky tacky project - if one assigns absolutely no value to time! 

Four hours later, the "marionuts" were ready for prime time!

Mary gave her marionut a snappy turban and named her An-nut Funicello.

Ever the rule follower, I adhered rather closely to the illustration in the 

magazine, only straying far enough to add a jaunty bow tie to Tony Ben-nut.

 

 

A special prize awaits you at 3:44

I'm not quite sure that we are of the same caliber as Mr. Bob Baker and his theatrical troupe of marionettes, but I do offer a warning to the Von Trapp children - überwachen Sie Ihre Rückseiten!!!  (literal translation of "Watch your backs, suckas!!!" - according to the translator on my computer)

Yeah, I'm talking to you!

Ideas for your marionut:  Don K-nuts, Marie Antoin-nut, Presi-nut Obama, Edward Nut-on,

Desi Ar-nut, Peanut Pan, Oprah Wingnut - the possibilities are endless!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

**SAD UPDATE: The YouTube Gestapo took away the cleverly-edited soundtrack to our puppet video citing potential copyright infringement.  No matter how often we argue the "fair use" card of such songs as "I've Got No Strings," "I'll String Along with You," and "Funeral March of a Marionette" (a song probably in the public domain), they say no dice.  One of these days we'll get around to re-scoring our Mario-nut Masterpiece.