Kitsch-en Kounter: Putting The Cherry on Top!

I love maraschino cherries!  To me, anything can be made immediately more special with the addition of these supernatural delights (natural bounty enhanced by the addition of the food color, sugar, etc. makes them pretty darn super, am I right?).  I must talk about my love far too often because a few years ago for my birthday, a friend at work gave me a gallon jar of maraschino cherries.  A very happy birthday indeed!

See what I mean?
A cherry takes plain old pudding from
pedestrian to pleasing.

An ordinary cake is elevated by the very presence of cherries.

From puddings to Christmas Hams, maraschino cherries make EVERYTHING better!!!

Many years ago, under the auspices of some long-forgotten benefactor, my family got to eat at Club 33 at Disneyland.  Much of what happened that day is lost to time and poor memory, but the thing I remember most vividly is the fact that I was allowed to order a 7-Up (we rarely had the privilege of ordering anything but water) and in that soda was not one, but two, candied cherries - one red, one GREEN!  Oh, the hedonism!  I have yet to be diagnosed, but there must be some kind of syndrome/disorder where one can barely remember one's own phone number, but can remember the details of a single soft drink that was consumed more than twenty years ago!

Recently, I came across a recipe of mid-century origins for a maraschino cherry cake.  I am not a baker; I think it's because I don't like recipes very much.  I love to cook, but as insatiable as my sweet tooth might be, I find that my talents are better suited to the savory end of the culinary spectrum where measurements don't have to be so exact.  My love of maraschino cherries extends so far that I even incorporate them into savory recipes like my Pineapple Upside-Down Loaf.  Undeterred by natural inability to bake, I set out to make this cherry cake and make it (bake it) I did.

The cake was leaning...looks like I over-corrected to compensate

.

My mom said that an old family friend was the inventor of the maraschino cherry.  "That can't be," I thought to myself.  The maraschino cherry is as old as the maraschino cherry tree.  Indeed, he would have to be an OLD family friend as the maraschino cherry is named for the Marasca wine-soaked cherries of 16th Century Croatia!  It turns out, he was instrumental in developing the modern process for brining/curing/coloring maraschino cherries.  My debt of gratitude can never be paid.

Maraschino Cherry fun facts:

* In 2009, 8.86 million pounds of cherries were brined to create Maraschino Cherries. (Source)

* In America, 1.2 lbs. per capita of Maraschino Cherries are consumed annually. (Source)  That is about equal to their consumption of fresh cherries at 1.9lbs. (Source)

* Maraschino Cherry is a common name given by the FDA to any processed cherry in which the fruit has been "dyed red, impregnated with sugar, and  packed in a sugar syrup flavored with oil of bitter almonds or a similar flavor." (Source)

I would share the cake recipe that I used, but the fact is that the internet is just lousy with recipes for Maraschino Cherry Cakes and as promising as the recipe seemed this one didn't turn out as delicious as I had hoped.  It was tasty, but it didn't blow my mind.

I will take some of the responsibility because, as I mentioned, my prowess as a pastry chef has always left a little to be desired; in my mind it is because I have a hard time with "recipes."  I prefer being a tad more experimental than most baking recipes allow and I just can't seem to leave well-enough alone - this cake was no exception.  I replaced the called for walnuts with sliced, toasted almonds.  Doesn't cherry and almond seem like a more natural combination than cherry and walnut?  Don't get me wrong, old faithful walnut, I like you and your flavor profile is just tops in cookies, but almonds really "take the cake" if you know what I mean.  If I were to tweak this recipe more, I would triple the amount of cherries (at least) and throw in some more juice - I wanted a CHERRY cake!!!  

Yours until the next baking disaster adventure....

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Pistol Packin' Mama! A Mother's Day Tribute

Today's Woman - March 1952

Mother's Day is upon us and it can be tricky finding the right gift for mom.  Having a difficult time myself, I turned to the March 1952 issue of Today's Woman for inspiration.  

A Girdle?
Maybe, but how do I find out the correct size without spoiling the surprise?

A Weight-Loss Record?
Practical, but maybe telling mom that she needs to drop a few lbs. (40 to be exact) doesn't set the right tone for the occasion.  Also, it is hard to trust this "Wallace" character; weight loss is easy when you're just a floating head.

Mommy and Me Shampoo Goggles?
They seam ideal, but would they get here in time? And 15 cents for handling and postage?!!!
 What do I look like, a Rockefeller?

 

These gifts would be nice.  But I wasn't looking for just "nice."  I was looking for something that said, "I appreciate all the sacrifices you've made mom; I treasure the time that we get to spend together; I would not be half the man I am today without your careful and loving rearing;  I know it hasn't always been easy, but I hope I've made you proud; I love you, Mom."  Nothing quite says all of these things like an automatic handgun.

Don't relegate mom to "sales representative" for some crummy old dress manufacturer, give her the freedom to pursue the thrilling "night work" in "lonely places" about which she has always dreamed.

"Finally, my very own rod!  Thank you, Jimmy, for my WAC 'fetherlite;' now I can go work down by the docks!  That's right, with my low cost, triple safety, WAC 'fetherlite' I can plug an unruly stevedore or a dirty copper with relative ease.  It's just what I've always wanted!"

"Pistol Packin' Mama" - Bing Crosby & The Andrews Sisters

Unfortunately, the Western Arms Corporation is no longer an active dealer of firearms, according to this very thorough investigation of the company that I found online.  So, you'll just have to find a reputable dealer in your town or simply go to a bad neighborhood in your local area to find the ideal gift for your mom.  Remember, if you really loved her, you'd get her a deadly weapon. Thanks Today's Woman!  This is sure to be one happy Mother's Day!

"Bang Bang" - Janis Martin

A very heartfelt Happy Mother's Day to my own mom and all the other wacky tacky moms out there!!!  Make your mom proud and follow us on Facebook!  She'll be glad that you did.


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Hoopin' It Up!

I have threatened to give up on learning.  Sometimes I think that there is only so much information that my brain is capable of retaining and I fear that I am near max capacity with the essentials - movie trivia, the schedule of my TV programs, and how many ounces are in a cup.  Before I discontinue the learning process entirely, I just need to know one more thing, just one more thing and I'm done.  Since when did hula hooping become performance art?  

Not so very long ago, we went to a local "art walk," you know the kind - open galleries, vendors peddling their wares, artists, food trucks, music, hula hoopers....Hula hoopers?!!!  Yep, the headlining act for the evening was a hula-hooper...45 solid minutes of nothing but hoopin'.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate some fancy hoopin', but 45 minutes?  By minute seventeen, I was a little, shall we say, irritated.  

Show off!
(Source)

I could have walked away, but nothing gets me as committed to a one-sided standoff like my own irritation.  Was I irritated by the hooper's unbelievable stamina?  Was I irritated by the costume choice - vampire Rainbow Bright meets homeless, pirate/stripper/hippie/nurse?  Was I irritated by the inexplicable musical selections?  (My next project is a compilation album; the working title is, "Songs to Hoop By," but I'm actually leaning towards, "Hoop, There It Is").  Was I irritated by the fact that no matter how hard I try, I have NEVER been able to master the proper hula motion and therefore, in the last 30+ years have never successfully hooped?  Had I allowed the seething bitterness of jealousy to overcome the entirety of my being?

While it's never been in women's foundation garments, I have always
pictured myself being able to hula hoop for hours with the similar
carefree countenance  of these happy hoopers.
(Source)

In short, yes.  The fact is, I pride myself on moving with relative ease.  I love to dance and hula is in my family.  My mother's formative years were spent in Hawaii (hula lessons/performances were basically mandatory) and my brother-in-law, a native Hawaiian, has worked as a professional Polynesian dancer.  Okay, so the actual Hula and the Hula Hoop have very little in common, but come on, what gives?  Why can't I hoop it up?  My best guess has something to do with a pathetic combination of factors - the relative girth of my equator, damnable gravity, and the fact that for my entire life I have been plagued by nothing but an endless stream of faulty Hula Hoops (I am concurrently penning a strongly-worded letter to the higher-ups at Wham-O).

The girl on the right is my personal hero.  Hoopin' and eating?
Heaven must be missing an angel!!
(Source)

Yeah, I can swirl it on my arm and even around my neck.  Yeah, when I was much smaller, I could use it as a "jump rope," but I could never shake the feeling that I was my parents' biggest disappointment when they saw all of the other kids on the block - feet firmly planted, knees bent, moving in an otherworldly rhythm creating a deafening hum as the beans or rice or BB gun pellets (or whatever it is they put inside there) swirled in seemingly perpetual motion - and then saw me, probably picking my nose and pretending the hoop was a steering wheel on a giant car.

That would be me - the one looking for a hiding place in the armpit of a
girl and bracing myself for impact, afraid that the hoop would somehow
break free and hit me in the face.  "No, not my glasses!"
(Source)

Anyhow, all of this got me thinking about the Hula Hoop.  My tendency is to think of pop culture fads exclusively as historical relics. I am always operating under the mistaken notion of "simpler times, simpler minds."  But try telling yourself just how terribly-modern and sophisticated you are whilst performing "The Macarena."  The mere mention of "The Macarena" reminds us that we've all been unwitting participants in the pop culture paradigm at some point in history.  Sorry, sorry, to quickly get your mind off of "The Macarena," here are some fun facts about the Hula Hoop. 

* Based on an Australian design, Hula Hoops were trademarked by Wham-O, Inc. in 1958.

* In the first four months of production, over 25 million Hula Hoops were sold (more than 100 million 

   in the first year).

* The first Hula Hoop-themed song was recorded by Teresa Brewer in 1958.

"Hula Hoop" - Teresa Brewer (1958)

* The Hula Hoop was inducted into The National Toy Hall of Fame in 1999.

* Ball bearings were the original noisemakers added to the inside of the Hula Hoop after a drastic drop  

   in sales in the mid-1960's.

* The origins of a similar hoop being used for exercise/recreation date back to the 6th Century B.C.

* I am hopeless at hoopin'.

* Although it didn't really happen that way, The Hudsucker Proxy ingeniously used The Hula Hoop as   

   a device to tell the story of corporate greed.

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994)

* Some famous hoopers of yesteryear include Art Linkletter, Jane Russell, and Sue Lyon.

Art Linkletter showing kids that adults do the darnedest things.
(Source)

Jane Russell making it look easy.
(Source)

Sue Lyon's seduces James Mason in Lolita.
Not to get too deep (or too obvious, maybe?), but could they have chosen a more appropriate
 and effective tool than the Hula Hoop to communicate the danger of Lolita -
all the innocence of a child's toy and all the hip action of much more adult pastimes
(Source)

I guess I can stop learning now as my question appears to have been answered.  Judging by this vintage photograph taken from Life magazine, hoopin' has been a performance art from the Hula Hoop's earliest days.

A performer at a nightclub floor
show getting her hoop on!
Now that's my kind of art!!!
(Source)

Here's hopin' your hoopin' is a heapin' helpin' better than mine!!!

 

"Rock-A-Hula"

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Chow Time: Circus Do-Nuts

If you saw our recent post, Get Your FREAK On: Just Your Average Family Freak Show, you'll know that we are method party-givers.  We trained at The Party-Givers' Studio and we are dedicated to doing thorough research to hone our technique.  When it's party time, we live it, we breathe it, and we NEVER break character!  It was only obvious, necessary even, that we search out local haunts that would get us into a circus "headspace." 

Now that's a great sign!

The circus, as a theme, is rife with possibilities.  Imagine (sometimes it helps to close your eyes) a donut shop with a trapeze artist, a clown, a balloon-animal artist, an elephant, and a ferris wheel.  Now imagine a donut shop with a faux-mansard roof painted in the red & white stripes of a big-top circus tent and the complete and utter absence of a trapeze artist, clown, elephant, or ferris wheel.  The latter describes Circus Do-Nuts.  That might sound like a little bit of a dig, but given the exciting potential, the management at Circus Do-Nuts doesn't allow the theme become fully-realized. 

Don't you kind of want to paint the chef's hat with a rainbow
afro and turn the man wearing the striped pants and See's Candy
 dress into a clown?  A circus clown.

Let it be said that I actually think Circus Do-Nuts is cool.  While it is definitely not the greatest donut show on earth, we truly appreciate any outlet of fried delicacies that maintains a charm and character that is so lacking in contemporary establishments of its kind.

The good bones are there including molded fiberglass chairs,
sherbet-colored formica....

...and checkerboard linoleum.

And then there's the donuts!

Are you getting tired of hearing me say that donuts (and practically everything else worth eating) are not on Mr. Tiny's current eating plan?  You are?  Well, trust me, not nearly as tired as Mr. Tiny is of not eating this delicious stuff!

My favorite part was the novelty toy vending
machine in the back corner of the shop.

Don't make fun of her...it only took her about
fourteen tries to put the quarters in.
Sometimes working a machine that is intended
for children can be really hard.

"Poo!"

We decided on the gag set - two whoopie cushions and a rubber spider.

If you're ever out and about in Torrance, be sure to check out Circus Do-Nuts.  It may not be the only place to buy donuts, lottery tickets, ice cream bars, and whoopie cushions, but for our money, it is the best circus-themed establishment in Torrance, CA at which to do so!

Circus Do-Nuts
1500 W Carson St
Torrance, CA
(310)320-7604


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

De Doo Doo Doo, De Dah Dah Dah

Well, Howdy!
Nope, that's not Temple Grandin dressed
for the Golden Globes; that's Mr. Tiny
dressed for The Doo Dah Parade!!!

Do you ever feel like a chicken (you'll come to appreciate the analogy later) running around with its head cut off?  Lately we have had so much going on (fun stuff, I'm not complaining too emphatically), that I feel directionless, exhausted, and powered exclusively by nervous energy.  Certain areas of my existence have suffered - sleep, cleanliness/organization, and blogging being no exceptions.

Mike probably has a cleaner bedroom than I.

Weary but excited, we woke early last weekend to participate in the second-annual Easy Acres Chicken Sitting entry in the 2012 Doo Dah Parade! 

You might remember the fun feathered fiasco of last year's Easy Acres entry as documented by our humble blog.  This year our theme was The Grand Ole Opry circa 1972.  Rhinestones, big hair, chickens, and a 1960 Cadillac Eldorado convertible were the order of the day.

Our Mistress of Ceremonies, Honky Tonk Queen, Grand Marshall, and
all-around Red Hot Chicken Picker, Anna, of Easy Acres Chicken Sitting

Deke Dickerson lent himself and his Cadillac to the festivities.
Have you see any finer fins than this?

Due to an allergy among our ranks, our usual flurry of feathers was forbidden.
That didn't stop the storm of sequins and confetti!

Chicken Head

Our flock

The Ladies who Parade

Yes, those are tortillas (hurled by rather-overzealous crowd members).
And yes, we did save them for our post-parade party - we served chicken tacos.

Every person's motives for parade participation are different.  Many people are there because they are part of a performance troupe.  Many people are there because there are too few parades in which to practice the drills of your Disco Drill Team.  While plenty of us were there just for fun, some people had a light, and a message, that they just couldn't hide under a bushel any longer.

"Cannabis Safer Than Alcohol"

She turned her sign just as the shutter snapped, but it read,
"Moms say legalize it!"
Marijuana? Prostitution? Gambling? Smokeless tobacco for children in wagons?
Not my mom - on any of those issues - just for the record.

The dominant theme this weekend was "fins and fowl."  After experiencing the grandeur of chickens and that '60 Eldorado, we motored down to San Diego for the Charles Phoenix show followed by a dinner at The San Diego Chicken Pie Shop and a two-car Plymouth show.  Two of our dinner companions drove their Plymouths and the fins couldn't help but be the star of the show!

The San Diego Chicken Pie Shop won for best execution of legume-based chicken mosaics, 

but I have to say that it doesn't hold a candle to our beloved, La Palma Chicken Pie Shop!

This is how the chicken....

...wanted to cross the road.

"Golden Commando Power"
My new catch phrase

I have absolutely no idea what this song means, but it says "do" and "da," and my lengthy preamble nothwithstanding, it's pretty much all I want to say to you.

"De Do Do Do De Da Da Da" - The Police

And just a couple more CHICKENS!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny