Home Cooks, Count Your Blessings

 The 1950s Kitchen Rulebook

Every now and then, the internet serves up a list that makes you stop and say, “Thank goodness times have changed.” Recently I stumbled across a set of 20 rules women were supposedly expected to follow in the 1950s kitchen. Now, we all know that if it’s on the internet it must be true — but even if only half of these were real, it was quite an era to learn to cook in.

I grew up in the 1950s, so I couldn’t resist taking a walk down memory lane to see how I measure up to some of these old expectations. Here are the twenty rules, along with my own modern‑day scorecard.


Dinner on the Table and Meat Every Night

The first rule insisted dinner be ready the moment the husband walked in. I dodged that one — no husband, and I worked outside the home for years. If I’d tried to meet that rule, takeout would’ve been my best friend.

As for meat at every meal? That one stuck. I grew up with it, and to this day I’m a committed carnivore. A vegetarian life is not in my future.


Canned Goods, Perfect Presentation, and Mild Spices

We had an entire basement wall lined with canned goods, even though we had a garden. I still keep a few cans around, but fresh has definitely taken over.

Presentation, though? That 1950s standard lives on in me. After putting effort into a meal, I want it to look good. Maybe that’s a throwback, maybe it’s just pride.

Spices were simple back then — salt, pepper, paprika, garlic. Honestly, those are still my kitchen staples, though I’m slowly branching out.


Leftovers, Dessert, and the Clean‑As‑You‑Go Kitchen

Leftovers were never disguised in our house — they were celebrated. When I was working, I planned weekend meals specifically to create leftovers for the week.

Dessert every night was also the norm. Sometimes it was just pudding or Jell‑O, but it was something sweet. I still like a little treat, though these days it’s more likely berries or an orange.

 

And the clean kitchen rule? That one I follow religiously. With a tiny kitchen, cleaning as I go keeps me sane.


Recipes, Meal Structure, and Children at the Table

I still follow new recipes exactly the first time, then tweak them later. And yes, the old “meat, starch, vegetable, bread, dessert” structure is still in my bones — though I happily skip the starch if I’m in the mood for two veggies instead.

Kids were expected to eat what was served. That was true in my childhood home, and I doubt I’d ever be the type to cook two separate meals.


No One Sees the Effort — and Cooking Was “Women’s Work”

I admit it: I prefer to cook alone. “Help” usually slows me down.

Cooking being a woman’s responsibility? That was the norm then, but thankfully not now. Just look at all the men dominating the cooking channels.

The idea that a woman’s morals were reflected in her meals? That one feels downright silly today. I never felt that kind of pressure — and I wish I could ask my mother what she thought of it.


Entertaining, Brand Names, and the Noise at the Table

Entertaining meant elaborate menus, and I confess I still fall into that habit. I always made sure there was plenty of food — no tiny portions at my gatherings.

Brand loyalty was huge in the 50s. I’m slowly breaking that habit, even though my brain still insists the name brand “tastes better,” even when it probably doesn’t.

As for quiet meals? Not in our house. Dinner was loud, lively, and full of overlapping conversations.


Repeating Meals, Waste Not, and the Cook Eats Last

Repeating meals was frowned upon, but leftovers took care of that. I repeat meals simply because I like them.

 

Throwing food away because it wasn’t pretty? Absolutely not. Presentation matters, but not that much.

And yes — the cook eating last was a real thing, especially on holidays. Mom always made sure every dish made it to the table before she sat down.


A 1950s Kid’s Takeaway

So there you have it — my rundown of the 1950s kitchen rulebook. Some habits stuck, some faded, and some never made sense in the first place.

What about you — did you grow up with any of these rules, or do you still follow a few without even realizing it?

The Great Marshmallow Roast: Celebrating National Toasted Marshmallow Day

The Toasted Marshmallow

Every year on August 30th, we celebrate one of life’s stickiest pleasures—National Toasted Marshmallow Day. It’s the perfect excuse to gather around a campfire, skewer a fluffy marshmallow, and test your patience (or your fire safety skills).

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There are two main schools of thought when it comes to marshmallow roasting. The first is the Golden-Brown Purist. These folks carefully hold their marshmallow above the flame, rotating it slowly like it’s a sugar rotisserie chicken. The result? A perfectly even golden crust with a soft, gooey center. These people probably iron their socks and alphabetize their spice racks.

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Then we have the Marshmallow Arsonists. You know who you are. You jam the marshmallow directly into the fire, watch it erupt into a sugar torch, panic, and then wave it around like you’re signaling planes to land. By the time the flames go out, you’ve created a charred husk filled with molten sugar lava. And yet, it still tastes amazing.

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Of course, the toasted marshmallow rarely travels solo. When paired with chocolate and graham crackers, it transforms into the legendary s’more. This humble creation is proof that life is better when it’s gooey, messy, and slightly over the top. One bite, and suddenly “just one more” becomes a campfire chant.

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But even eaten plain, a toasted marshmallow carries nostalgia. It’s childhood summers, crackling fires, sticky fingers, and maybe even a singed eyebrow or two. It’s the kind of simple pleasure that makes you laugh while trying not to burn your tongue.

So, however you roast—whether you’re a patient spinner or a marshmallow pyromaniac—today’s the day to celebrate. Grab a stick, light a fire, and toast to sweet, sticky chaos. Wet wipes optional, but highly recommended.

Snoopy

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What’s Your Favorite Easter Candy?

Easter is almost here. I remember Easter Sunday services. They were a big deal when I was growing up. We always had on our EASTER Sunday best.

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You see there was our Sunday best but on Easter we really went all out.

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We had hats (Easter bonnets) and white gloves and the first time I was allowed to wear stockings and pointy high heels was on an Easter Sunday. I remember one year Jackie Kennedy had made pill box hats the fashion so that year  I had  to wear one on Easter.

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I went to church every Sunday. I was active in the choir but my Dad only went to church on High Holidays…Christmas and Easter. I remember one Easter I had the Easter Sunday Solo. I was scared to death but so proud that both my Mom and Dad were in the congregation that day.

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After the church service we’d all stay for the traditional Easter Egg hunt.

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Up in the Adirondacks it was not unusual for snow to still be on the ground where there was shade. Snow banks and snow patches were perfect places for those colored eggs. I wonder if my old church still has Easter Egg hunts.

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Back home we got our Easter Baskets. They always had a chocolate bunny as the center peice but the really special Easter candy was a sugar egg. I never see them anymore. They were so pretty and delicate. They were almost magical.  Eventually the egg got eaten just like the chocolate bunny and the jelly beans but part of me always hated to eat something so pretty.

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As an adult I could almost believe that I dreamed it up but I remember the way the sugar melted on my tongue. It was like eating a sugar cube. But I could never find them anywhere. Then about 6 years ago I found them in a little candy shop in Old Saybrook , CT. I said I’d go back to get one at Easter but I never did.

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Recently I did a search on the internet and I found them. There weren’t too many places to get them and they are really expensive but they are just as beautiful as I remember.

So what’s your favorite Easter Candy?