In American culture, food is a lot like slang and pop music, in that it’s changed drastically over the years. Several American foods from the past come from a time of such different cultural, technological, and generational sensibilities that it can be hard to imagine encountering them today, let alone understanding their appeal. The following foods were once popular staples in the U.S. — but they might be difficult items to convince modern diners to try.
Not to be confused with the differently pronounced Hawaiian dish of marinated raw fish, poke salad (sometimes spelled “salet” or “salud”) was made of pokeweed, a wild leafy green that has grown in Appalachia for centuries. It was a simple dish containing the boiled leaves and stalks of pokeweed, along with bacon grease, and its preparation was crucial: Pokeweed is poisonous, so boiling the plant at least twice (with new water each time) was necessary to render the greens safe to eat.
Because of the abundance of wild pokeweed and its association with toxicity, poke salad was primarily eaten in impoverished communities, and it endured as a staple well into the 20th century. In 1969, Tony Joe White’s hit song “Polk Salad Annie” positioned the dish as an emblem of rural toughness and resourcefulness in the face of poverty. Nowadays, the easier-to-prepare and similarly seasoned collard greens have endured in place of poke salad, though there are some who predict that the local foraging movement may lead to a resurgence of cooking with pokeweed.
Turtle soup remains a delicacy around the world, particularly in China and Singapore, and it was a mainstay of fine dining in the U.S. from the colonial era through the mid-20th century. Sometimes described as a clear consommé with large diced turtle meat, other times a tomato-based broth thickened with a medium-dark roux, it was nearly always served with a glass of sherry to add to the dish. Turtle soup was once so prestigious that it was served at Abraham Lincoln's inauguration, and it was a favorite of President William Howard Taft. It also reliably appeared on menus throughout the country, including New York’s storied Delmonico’s.
Though the dish’s popularity was long and its pedigree high, its decline was quick, caused by a confluence of factors. Prohibition meant the sherry that provided a key seasoning flourish was no longer available. The rise of factory farming consolidated America’s meat production to beef, chicken, and pork, due to the easier processing methods involved with those meats. Anthropomorphic turtle characters appeared in the media and created an unintended perception shift against the idea of eating turtles. And finally, the green sea turtles the dish was originally made from were classified as endangered in 1973. Turtle enthusiasts switched to the more abundant snapping turtle, but turtle soup was all but nonexistent as a fine dining item by the 1980s.
Creamed chipped beef on toast was a breakfast food, also known as S.O.S. — an acronym for a profane (and even less appetizing!) name for the dish. This meal was made from sliced dried beef (a sort of bovine-based textural equivalent of pepperoni or salami) simmered in white gravy until softened, and then ladled over a piece of toast. The ease of preparation and long shelf life of its protein made it an ideal military ration — it appears in U.S. Army cooking manuals from as early as 1910 — as well as an easy meal for households seeking frugality. This made S.O.S. particularly popular in the 1930s and ’40s during the Great Depression and World War II, when conservation was front of mind. In the middle of the 20th century, S.O.S. was a standard menu item at most diners, but it began fading with the rise of nutrition consciousness around the 1970s — perhaps because it’s neither a health food nor as indulgent as the comparable biscuits and gravy.
Another 20th-century diner staple, the Limburger sandwich was a classic deli sandwich (read: a cold sandwich) of Limburger cheese and raw onion on rye bread. Limburger cheese was one of the five main cheeses produced in the U.S. during the late 19th and early 20th centuries (in addition to Swiss, brick, cheddar, and American cheese), and it was known to a point of infamy for its foul aroma. It was the subject of gags by Charlie Chaplin and the Three Stooges, and earlier, Mark Twain compared its odor to that of a corpse in his short story “The Invalid’s Story.”
Considering the already off-putting smell of Limburger cheese, the question may not be why a sandwich of raw onion and Limburger cheese is no longer popular, but rather, why was it ever popular? Perhaps its sharp taste was enough for the appeal, odor be damned. Or maybe eating it represented a sort of machismo similar to the spicy wings of today (with pungency instead of heat). In any case, changing tastes and the odorless convenience of sliced American cheese relegated the Limburger sandwich to a strictly regional rarity in parts of Wisconsin.
Vinegar pie is commonly placed in the category of “desperation pie” (or “make-do pie”), a Depression-era dessert made with basic pantry ingredients substituting for traditional ingredients that may have been unavailable or too expensive. Other examples of “desperation pie” include eggless sugar cream pie, green tomato pie, and oatmeal pie, which mimicked custard pie, apple pie, and pecan pie, respectively. In that context, the acid from the vinegar pie’s namesake ingredient would be a resourceful replacement for lemon.
The origin of vinegar pie wasn’t the Depression, though. A recipe for it appeared in Colorado’s The Herald Democrat as early as 1905, in cookbooks such as Maud C. Cooke’s Three Meals a Day starting in 1892, and in the 1874 compendium The Home Cook Book of Chicago. The dessert was around enough that perhaps there was more to it than sheer utility. In recent years, James Beard Award-winning chef Chris Shepherd revived vinegar pie at his Houston, Texas restaurant Underbelly, and it became the restaurant’s signature dish, with an appealingly contemporary presentation. But Underbelly closed in 2018, and with it, the vinegar pie reverted back to obscurity.
From a leisurely meal of eggs and bacon to the convenience of a granola bar or yogurt parfait, breakfast foods come in an array of options to suit every taste and lifestyle. While the word “breakfast,” meaning “to break one’s fast in the morning,” dates back to the 15th century, some of our favorite morning dishes date back thousands of years. In fact, researchers believe the earliest variations of pancakes and porridges were first eaten as far back as the Stone Age. But while some popular breakfast foods have evolved and endured, others that were once considered staples of the typical American kitchen have faded into nostalgic obscurity. Here are five foods that were once considered popular breakfast dishes.
The first cold breakfast cereal, Granula was developed in 1863 in Dansville, New York, by James Caleb Jackson, a nutritionist who ran a health spa. Jackson believed that illnesses originated in the digestive system and that committing to a healthy diet could help cure sickness. He formulated Granula by baking graham flour into hard cakes and then crumbling the cakes and baking them a second time. The crumbled bits were then so hard that they had to be soaked overnight in milk to make the cereal edible. Dr. Jackson’s crunchy breakfast cereal was soon copied by inventor John Harvey Kellogg, who later invented corn flakes, who used a combination of cornmeal, oatmeal, and wheat flour to make his own version of Granula, which he called Granola — but only after Jackson sued him for using the Granula name.
A popular New England breakfast dish in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, milk toast may date as far back as the Middle Ages when bread soaked in liquid was known as “sop.” The contemporary version was made by pouring warm milk over bread that had been toasted, buttered, then cubed. The dish could be served sweet or savory, with the addition of sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon, or salt, pepper, and paprika. The word “milquetoast,” meaning a timid or ineffectual person, was derived from a 1924 cartoon character named Caspar Milquetoast, who was named for this mild, quintessential comfort food.
Canned versions of this classic American side dish can still be found on grocery store shelves, but it was once popular on the breakfast table, served alongside johnnycakes, a type of fried cornmeal pancake. In the 1886 cookbook Practical Housekeeping: A Careful Compilation of Tried and Approved Recipes, author Estelle Woods Wilcox recommends adding a few tablespoons of molasses and salt pork to a pot of beans and baking it for six hours or longer. Noting, “This is the Yankee dish for Sunday breakfast,” the author recommends the pork and beans be baked the day before, left in the oven all night, and browned in the morning, though they could also be eaten cold.
Whether breaded and fried as cakes or balls or served with cream on toast, codfish was once considered a popular breakfast food in American homes and luxury hotels alike. On its 1914 breakfast menu, New York’s Waldorf Astoria hotel offered codfish in cream for 50 cents, while Fannie Farmer’s 1916Boston Cooking-School Cook Book included recipes for creamed salt codfish, fish balls, and salted codfish hash. While those recipes called for picking codfish “in very small pieces, or cut, using scissors,” salted and cured shredded codfish was also packaged and advertised as a “dainty” and “sweet-flavored fish” whose price was “naturally high” because of the limited quantity of high-quality cod.
Breakfast hash has been around for centuries and is still enjoyed today, but it was particularly popular during World War II, when meat rationing required home cooks to get creative. Traditional home-cooked hash was made of “chopped cooked meat” and cooked vegetables (usually potatoes and onions) mixed with broth and fried on the stove. While it was served at lunch and dinner as well, hash for breakfast was an economical way to use up dinner leftovers and stretch those precious quantities of rationed meat by adding flavorful fillers. In wartime ads, Armour and Company, the first company to produce canned meat, reminded Americans that “our war needs make it vital now to save every bit of food left over,” and offered a free booklet called “69 Meat Ration Recipes” that included breakfast hash recipes using a variety of fresh and canned meats.
Egg cream sodas were once the effervescent star of New York’s soda fountain scene. Today, the drink is little more than a nostalgic novelty, served up occasionally at old school spots and retro-themed bars intent on keeping the classic alive. So what happened to this once-beloved treat?
At the beginning of the 20th century, soda fountains were a common sight and popular meeting place in New York City. The name described both the equipment — a tap that dispensed carbonated soda water — and the business, which often meant a place that served food along with the bubbly drinks. When they first gained popularity in the mid-1800s, soda fountain machines were primarily used in drug stores. Pharmacists mixed seltzer, seen then as a medicinal drink, with potent or bitter-tasting drugs to make them more palatable.
In the early 1900s, the fountains and the “soda jerks” who worked them moved on from serving just prescription drinks to a more tempting variety of sweets. As fountains proliferated in candy stores, ice cream parlors, luncheonettes, and department stores, carbonated water was mixed with fruit syrup, used to make ice cream floats, and featured as one of just three ingredients in an iconic New York City drink from the era: the egg cream soda.
Contrary to its name, an egg cream contained neither eggs nor cream. (No one is exactly sure where the name came from, though there are certainly lots of theories.) The soda was a mixture of chilled whole milk, seltzer water, and chocolate syrup (preferably Fox’s U-Bet Chocolate Syrup), whipped together to create a creamy, frothy, fizzy drink. It was one of the best-known drinks in the city at the time, but exactly how and when it made its way to New York soda fountains is the subject of competing theories. One of the most popular stories suggests that Louis Auster first whipped it up at his Lower East Side candy store around 1890. Auster made his own chocolate syrup and never revealed his recipe. Another theory involves the Ukrainian-born Yiddish theater star Boris Tomashevsky. It’s said that, while in New York in the 1880s, he may have asked a soda jerk to make a drink he had enjoyed in Paris — a “chocolat et creme.” Yet another story, detailed in New York Magazine in 1971, claims the egg cream wasn’t actually invented until the 1920s, and was the property of the uncle of sociologist Daniel Bell — Uncle Hymie’s recipe, however, did involve an egg.
By the 1920s, it’s estimated there were about 125,000 soda fountains serving up fizzy concoctions across the U.S. Egg creams were a defining staple of this era, especially in New York City — Louis Aster’s alone was so popular that he’s said to have sold up to 3,000 of them a day. But the egg cream’s popularity waned with the decline of soda fountain culture. By the 1950s, mass-marketed bottled and canned sodas had become the norm. Increasing car ownership and postwar suburbanization prioritized roadside eateries, and as independent drug stores were overshadowed by big chain stores, soda fountains became too costly to install and maintain. By the 1970s, soda fountain culture was all but obsolete, and so was the egg cream.
The egg cream remained a symbol of nostalgia for many New Yorkers and classic Americana aficionados for years after its demise. In 1991, the drink appeared in an episode of Seinfeld. Sesame Street boasted about Mr. Hooper’s egg cream recipe in episodes in 1978 and 1984. In 1996, New York music legend Lou Reed even titled a song “Egg Cream” on his album Set the Twilight Reeling. Traditional soda fountains have become a rarity, but in New York City, older establishments such as Ray’s Candy Store in Manhattan and the famed Jewish deli Russ & Daughters still serve classic egg creams. Modern interpretations have also popped up, as nostalgic eateries such as the Brooklyn Farmacy and Soda Fountain, built in an original 1920s apothecary, have put the quintessential New York beverage front and center.
In the 1880s, plain metal lunch pails were a practical way for workers to transport and protect their midday meals. The utilitarian containers weren’t marketed for children, but it wasn’t long before parents, taking a cue from workers’ lunch pails, started reusing the metal tins used to hold cookies or tobacco for kids’ school lunches.
In the early 20th century, it was common for children who lived in rural areas to pack their lunch, while kids in urban areas who lived closer to school would go home to eat. The first lunch box specifically designed for kids, which made its debut in 1902, was shaped like a picnic basket and featured lithographed images of children playing. In 1935, the Milwaukee-based company Geuder, Paeschke & Frey produced the first character-licensed “lunch kit,” a metal, oval-shaped, lithographed tin secured with a loop of wire that served as the handle. The tin featured a new cartoon character named Mickey Mouse — and the lunch box as we know it was born.
The 1950s marked a major turning point for the evolution of the lunch box, as the humble container became a means of portable self-expression. In 1950, Aladdin Industries saw an opportunity to expand its lunch box sales by taking its signature plain steel box, applying red enamel, and embossing it with a decal of Hopalong Cassidy, a fictional cowboy on a popular TV series. The product was a hit, and competitor American Thermos soon followed suit by releasing its own cowboy lunch box, featuring full-color images of Roy Rogers on all sides. The company sold 2.5 million Roy Rogers lunch boxes in 1953, a huge increase in sales.
By the mid-1950s, other manufacturers jumped into the metal lunch box market, competing for the licensing rights to popular TV shows. The lunch box business grew to encompass a wide variety of entertainment tie-ins, making themed lunch boxes popular with both children and collectors. Though the original plain metal kits were intended to be used year after year by adults, bringing pop culture themes to children’s lunch boxes meant that kids would want a new one at the start of every school year. This planned obsolescence meant more money for manufacturers, who were further inspired to introduce additional styles and designs, such as lunch boxes with matching thermoses.
The lunch box business continued to boom, with 120 million lunch boxes sold between 1950 and 1970. In 1962, Aladdin Industries added stamped designs to their containers, giving their line of lunch boxes a unique 3D effect. As the cost of licensing rights became prohibitive, Aladdin introduced novelty domed lunch boxes with generic themes, such as pirates. It was around this time that manufacturers also started looking for alternatives to metal. Vinyl lunch boxes had a short run, but the cheaper material made them far less durable than metal lunch boxes. While themes such as Barbie and the Beatles did well, vinyl never came close to replacing metal.
Starting in 1972, molded plastic lunch boxes were added to the mix, offering consumers a wider range of options. The plastic lunch boxes were not only lighter and cheaper to make, but also allowed for greater variations in designs and sizes — though plastic, like vinyl, still couldn’t compete with the durability and visual appeal of metal containers. Lunch box usage also started to wane as more kids opted for hot cafeteria food, and by the late 1980s, the era of the classic metal lunch box came to an end. While Mickey Mouse was the first licensed character to be featured on a lunch box, the last themed metal lunch box, manufactured in 1987, featured Sylvester Stallone’s Rambo.
Even beyond their heyday, though, lunch boxes were such a significant part of American culture throughout the 20th century that they retained a place in our collective memory — and have earned a spot in museum collections, too. In fact, the Lunch Box Museum in Columbus, Georgia, is solely dedicated to the classic containers, displaying over 3,000 lunch boxes and 1,000 thermoses, from early miners’ pails to a Return of the Jedi-themed lunch box from the mid-1980s. The Smithsonian National Museum of American History maintains a smaller exhibit called “Taking America to Lunch.” That display highlights dozens of objects from the museum’s collection of lunch boxes and beverage containers from the 1890s to the 1980s.
Vintage lunch boxes found in attics and antique stores also can command hefty price tags from collectors. The 1935 oval metal Mickey Mouse lunch pail is valued up to $2,000, while a 1954 Superman lunch box could go for as much as $13,000. The value of a particular lunch box is determined by its condition; collectors are most interested in dent-free, scratch-free, rust-free containers. And having the lunch box’s matching thermos increases the overall value as well.
Though the popularity of traditional lunch boxes has waxed and waned over the decades, there has been increased awareness in recent years about the environmental impact of single-use lunch packaging. As a result, reusable and eco-friendly lunch containers have gained popularity. Consumers now have the option of a soft-sided lunch box — made of vinyl, polyester, and foam, which is a better fit for children’s backpacks — or international innovations such as bento boxes from Japan and tiffin containers from India.
Contemporary lunch box design is focused on a combination of style, substance, and food safety. Made from an array of materials, including hard and soft plastic, stainless steel, and sturdy canvas, new lunch boxes boast everything from built-in refreezable gel to easy-to-clean waterproof containers with drink holders. With such a wide variety of sizes, colors, designs, and personalization options, children and adults can express their individuality through their food containers. Even Mickey Mouse and Barbie are still around, and as popular with nostalgic adults as with young children.
In the fall of 1621, a group of Pilgrims and Wampanoag gathered in Plymouth, Massachusetts, for a harvest feast. This event celebrated the Pilgrims’ first successful corn harvest, a skill they had been taught by an Indigenous guide named Squanto, who helped the European settlers survive in the unfamiliar territory. The feast lasted for three days and occurred sometime between September 21 and November 11. The meal they shared is now considered to be the first Thanksgiving dinner, though the complicated legacy of this inaugural event can’t be ignored.
The Thanksgiving holiday today celebrates a myth of unity and friendship between Indigenous peoples and European colonists, but the reality is much more complex. While the Wampanoag did help Puritan settlers upon their arrival in 1620 and 1621, European colonists went on to massacre and displace millions of Indigenous people in the decades that followed. It’s a dark chapter in the nation’s history that we’ve only recently begun to reckon with, even as we celebrate gratitude and togetherness each Thanksgiving.
Another common myth associated with this holiday is the food itself. Today, more than 400 years later, dishes such as turkey and mashed potatoes are synonymous with Thanksgiving. But many of the modern holiday staples are more recent inventions. The first Thanksgiving dinner was notably different from today’s traditions, at least according to the scant historical accounts we have of the gathering, namely a letter from diplomat Edward Winslow and a letter penned by William Bradford, the governor of Plymouth Colony.
While it’s difficult to know what exactly was eaten at the first Thanksgiving, it’s possible to piece together a menu based on these accounts and the crops that were available around Plymouth at the time. With that in mind, I, along with several friends, set out to recreate some of the dishes that were likely served at the first Thanksgiving feast.
The highlight of modern Thanksgiving meals is the turkey, but the inaugural harvest feast likely centered around roasted waterfowl. According to Winslow, the local governor “sent foure men on fowling” to collect meat for the meal. Though wild turkeys were present in the region, the centerpiece of a dinner at the time was more likely to be duck, goose, or a similar bird.
Ingredients
One 5-pound duck
2 ½ teaspoons salt
½ teaspoons ground black pepper
10 black peppercorns
4 medium onions
1 handful of parsley
2 cups of red wine
⅓ cup minced parsley leaves
1 teaspoon ground ginger
¼ cup dried currants
½ teaspoon ground mace
¼ cup cranberries
1 tablespoon sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
For our recreation, we used a recipe for roasted duck accompanied by a sauce made of cranberries and wine as found in the 2005 book Giving Thanks: Thanksgiving Recipes and History, From Pilgrims to Pumpkin Pie. Given there were no actual recipes written down at the first Thanksgiving meal, this recipe, as well as all the others I followed, recreates each dish’s authentic taste using ingredients that were likely available at the time.
Interestingly, this recipe calls for the duck to be boiled before roasting. Also, there’s no stuffing the bird like we do today — instead, it’s cooked in a broth with onions and parsley, lightly seasoned with salt and pepper, and then roasted over a bed of onions.
The result was a roasted duck that looked and tasted as if it had been created using modern cooking techniques. The skin was crisp and well seasoned, and though some of the meat was dry, the bird was largely moist and succulent. The sauce was a nice touch, providing a tangy and somewhat sweet complement to the bird.
It’s worth mentioning that there’s some historical argument about how much wine and sugar the Pilgrims may have had. They could have used what remained of the original provisions brought over on the Mayflower in late 1620, but it’s unlikely they had much of either available. Cranberries, on the other hand, were a seasonal highlight of local Wampanoag fare.
Samp
One of the first side dishes we tried making was samp, a kind of corn porridge. Based on a Wampanoag dish called nasaump — a traditional meal consisting of dried corn, berries, and nuts — samp was the Pilgrims’ attempt at creating a porridge with a consistency akin to modern oatmeal.
Ingredients:
2 cups coarse corn grits
4 cups water
1 cup milk
¼ cup sugar
We followed a simple recipe inspired by a description of the dish from the book Two Voyages to New England, written by English traveler John Josselyn in the 1600s. The recipe used corn-based grits, water, sugar, and milk. (I used cow’s milk, though it was more likely they used goat’s milk at the time.) The corn grits and water are stirred together until thick and warm, and milk and sugar are mixed in before serving.
The result was a thick, somewhat sweet, but otherwise rather bland mixture that was perfectly edible but largely uninteresting. On the table it looked like a bowl of mashed potatoes but boasted a thicker texture. Eaten on its own, samp was one of the more forgettable aspects of our meal, though it provided a nice and simple contrast to the tart sauce accompanying the duck.
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Seethed Mussels With Parsley and Vinegar
Seafood may not be common at Thanksgiving dinners today, but it was a major part of the first feast. The Pilgrims and Wampanoag likely incorporated local fish such as cod and bass into their menu, as well as various shellfish harvested from nearby waters. For our seafood element, we followed a recipe for mussels “seethed” in parsley and vinegar, based on a description found in A Booke of Cookerie, published in 1620.
Ingredients:
4 pounds of mussels
2 tablespoons butter
½ cup chopped parsley
½ cup red wine vinegar
¾ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
2 garlic cloves
For this recipe, the mussels are scrubbed clean while the other ingredients are brought to a boil. The mussels are then added and steamed until all of the shells are open, then immediately served.
One interesting note is that we used butter in this recipe, despite the fact that cows didn’t arrive in the region until 1623, a couple of years after the first Thanksgiving. In fact, there were few cows anywhere in the United States until the late 16th century, when several thousand were brought from Mexico into modern-day New Mexico. However, early colonial ships including the Mayflower brought over European goods such as butter and oil, so it’s possible that butter was on hand for the feast.
The seethed mussels were surprisingly close to what you’d find in a modern seafood restaurant. The sauce was similar to a white wine sauce, though we didn’t use any actual wine. Instead, the shells were cooked in red wine vinegar, which provided a nice tang, as well as butter for added creaminess. The mussels were tender and the fresh parsley contributed a nice light, peppery taste. Even though I’m not particularly fond of most shellfish, I found this dish surprisingly enjoyable.
Stewed Pumpkin
In the 17th century, pumpkins were known as “pumpions,” and were prevalent throughout modern-day New England. Often they were cut into dices and stewed until soft — but to make things simpler, we used pumpkin puree.
Ingredients:
4 cups pumpkin puree
3 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon salt
Much like the recipe for samp, we used a recipe for stewed pumpkin based on Josselyn’s description of the meal in the 1672 book Two Voyages to New England. In this simple dish, pumpkin and butter are added to a bowl and mixed together until the butter melts. During the cooking process, ingredients such as apple cider vinegar and ginger are also added in order to make the dish “tart like an Apple,” as per the recipe.
The final product had a very light tart flavor, but largely tasted like warm pumpkin more than anything else. As a fan of pumpkin, I enjoyed the taste, though it was rather one-note and uninteresting. In terms of appearance, the stewed pumpkin looked just like a bowl of sweet potatoes. (Potatoes weren’t widely available in America at the time, so they were left out of our meal entirely. Potatoes were slowly introduced stateside throughout the 17th century and first grown on a large scale in 1719.)
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Wampanoag Autumn Sobaheg
The fifth and final dish we prepared was a traditional Wampanoag stew known as sobaheg. This recipe comes from the same book as the roast duck recipe, Giving Thanks: Thanksgiving Recipes and History, From Pilgrims to Pumpkin Pie. It required the longest cooking time of any dish at nearly three hours, and called for venison (deer meat) as its central component. According to Winslow’s account, several hunters “went out and killed five Deer, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governor.”
Ingredients:
½ cup dried white beans
½ cup coarse grits
1 pound of venison
1 teaspoon salt
1 small acorn square
1 cup of peeled turnips
¼ cup powdered walnuts
This stew mixes venison, white beans, grits, squash (we used acorn squash), and turnips (which we substituted for the similar sunchoke). The meal cooks for several hours, during which it develops a thicker consistency, before being served in a bowl next to the main plates.
In my opinion, the sobaheg was the tastiest food we ate all night, a surprise given that it was seasoned only with salt. The soft and naturally sweet turnips and squash were a good counterpoint to the more savory venison flavor, as all the elements combined to create a hearty and warming stew.
On the surface, the dishes we cooked from the inaugural Thanksgiving were clearly lacking in both seasoning and leafy vegetation — at least by our modern standards. Still, the meal was surprisingly tasty. The dishes were all warm and filling, creating the perfect menu to consume during crisp autumn weather. It’s also surprising how modern many of the dishes felt, given they were cooked more than 400 years ago.
The fruits and vegetables we buy at the supermarket today often look very different from the produce of centuries past. Some 10,000 years ago, as humans shifted from hunter-gatherer societies to permanent settlements, the cultivation and modification of crops began.
Early farmers usually selected plants based on their harvestability and the size of their fruit. Over time, plants were crossbred to enhance their best traits, and this process gradually improved the taste, size, and yield of their fruit. Today, our modern produce tells the story of the coevolution between humans and the plants we eat.
Carrots weren’t always the vibrant orange we know today; in fact, the root vegetable originally grew in shades of purple, white, and yellow. According to popular legend, the carrot got its modern hue from Dutch growers in the 17th century paying tribute to William of Orange, a key figure in the Dutch fight for independence. Domesticated carrots originated with farmers in modern-day Afghanistan more than 1,000 years ago. Historians believe these early farmers began to breed carrots to enhance their carotenoids — their natural pigments — though whether it was to increase nutrition, to reduce the veggie’s inherent bitterness, or another reason altogether isn’t exactly known. These early modifications gave carrots a yellow hue, and hundreds of years later, Dutch cultivation deepened their hue yet again, turning them from yellow to dark orange.
According to genetic study, wild watermelon originated in parts of Africa, but it shared little resemblance to the sweet summer fruit we eat today. The most clear depiction of what the green-skinned gourd once looked like comes from a 17th-century painting by Italian artist Giovanni Stanchi. The watermelon looks similar on the outside to what we see in stores now, but the inside looks truly, well, wild: It featured a pale, rind-like flesh marked by swirling, recessed pockets of seeds. Researchers believe the fruit would likely have been sweet even in its early state, although not as sweet as the selectively bred bright-pink species we enjoy today.
Ancient Corn Has Been Compared to Dry, Raw Potatoes
Corn's ancient ancestor was teosinte, a grasslike plant that grew kernels in small, tough shells. Cobs weren’t peeled like they are today; the outer shells had to be hammered open, and the kernels are said to have had a starchy texture that resembled dry, raw potatoes. The transformation from teosinte to modern corn was a triumph of selective breeding by Indigenous communities in Mesoamerica. Researchers believe corn was first domesticated around 6,000 to 9,000 years ago in the Balsas River Valley of southern Mexico. Over time, the vegetable was cultivated to be much longer and have bigger kernels, a softer outer layer, and, of course, more sugar content, resulting in the golden sweet corn that’s now a staple crop around the world.
This popular tree fruit is beloved for its sweet, juicy profile, but it once had hardly any flesh — and what it did have was less juicy with a more earthy taste. Peaches originated in China; fossils indicate that they even predated humans. Originally, wild peaches were greenish and much smaller. The pit took up most of the space, the skin was waxy, and they had 4% less sugar than today’s varieties. Over time, peach cultivation traversed continents and cultures, each refining its best traits to give us the fuzzy, rosy treat we love today.
Bananas are easy to peel, nutritious, and sweet, but in their original incarnation they were tougher, stockier, and full of hard, black seeds. In fact, instead of the banana itself, people once ate the tree’s flowers or shoots. There are now more than 1,000 banana varieties, but the one we’re most familiar with is the Cavendish banana. It was named after English nobleman William Spencer Cavendish, the 6th Duke of Devonshire. Though researchers have traced the domesticated banana’s origins to Papua New Guinea, the Brits were key figures in the variety’s cultivation into the banana found in most grocery stores year-round.
Like everything else they do while in office, the food preferences of the United States Presidents are meticulously documented. The eating habits of the commanders in chief become the object of scrutiny, and can even help shape the popularity of certain dishes. Thomas Jefferson, for instance, is credited with introducing multiple recipes to the New World, including macaroni, ice cream, and French fries. John Tyler had a popular type of pie named after him, and Ronald Reagan was famous for keeping a jar of Jelly Belly jelly beans on his desk.
The 35th President, John F. Kennedy, is no exception. In fact, among the documents on his presidency preserved in the National Archives is a small recipe card featuring his family waffle recipe. Over the years, various cookbooks requested family recipes from the Kennedys, and one that was frequently shared was this waffle recipe, which JFK often requested himself from the White House chefs.
As a lover of both history and waffles, I decided to make these waffles for myself and see if I could bring the Kennedy experience to my own kitchen. Here’s what I discovered about JFK’s famous breakfast dish.
A breakfast staple dating back to ancient Greece, waffles are more than just pancakes with ridges. They were originally thin wafers eaten on special occasions, and, in another presidential twist, Thomas Jefferson was purported to have brought the first long-handled waffle iron to America. In the decades since, waffles have undergone several makeovers, from fluffy Belgian varieties to frozen Eggos. But no matter their shape or price, they are a quintessential breakfast dish.
It’s perhaps no surprise, then, that this recipe was so beloved by President Kennedy, who was a lover of the classics. According to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library, JFK was fond of a smattering of traditional meals, such as New England fish chowder, corn muffins, and chocolate. However, he was also noted as being “a small eater and he often had to be reminded that it was dinner time.”
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Making the Waffles
I was confident when I set out to make these waffles. A longtime baker, I'd consider myself slightly above novice, especially when it comes to breakfast. Waffles hold a special place in my heart. They were the food I craved above all else when I stayed home sick as a kid. The first thing I registered for when I was getting married was a good waffle iron, and now it's one of my favorite weekend treats to make for my own daughter.
To my surprise, the hardest part of the whole experience began before I even heated up the waffle iron. I could not find cake flour. My grocery store shelves were stocked with all-purpose flour, bread flour, even gluten-free almond flour, but it took three Target runs to finally find cake flour, which, as I learned, has a slightly lower protein content than all-purpose flour, making it extra fine and light — ideal for waffle-making.
Aside from the flour, the ingredient list is pretty standard, though with slightly more flair than a traditional waffle recipe. Each ingredient goes one step further than you would find in a basic recipe. Buttermilk instead of regular milk. Separated egg yolks and whipped egg whites folded into the batter instead of a whole egg unceremoniously cracked in. Butter instead of vegetable oil. Reading the ingredient list alone gives you a hint to how fluffy and rich these waffles will be.
With that said, nothing in the recipe was too difficult, especially for an experienced waffle maker. Even a beginner could whip these up easily, as long as you pay attention to the recipe.
So, that being said, make sure to read the recipe extra carefully. There are a few tricky points, such as an extra tablespoon of flour on top of the 1 cup already in there, or 7/8 cup of milk, if you opt out of buttermilk. Also, expert chefs be warned: The baking powder, which is typically combined with flour at the beginning of a bake, isn't added until the very end. Those four heaping tablespoons will give the waffles an extra fluffiness, so just trust the recipe.
Also note that these are a bit more delicate than a thick boxed mix, so you'll want to spray your waffle iron and be extra careful peeling them from the heat.
Drumroll, Please…
The end result was light, fluffy, and delicious — not surprising given the work that went into them. Like each individual ingredient, the waffles themselves felt like an elevated dish taken to a slightly higher level.
There's no sugar in this recipe, which means these aren't the sweet dessert waffles you may dream about. But add fruit, whipped cream, or any other desired toppings and that will easily make up for it — though the recipe itself advises you serve with "hot maple syrup and melted butter." That's exactly what I did, and it was the perfect topping for these fluffy creations.
I can confidently say these waffles were much better than a box recipe, slightly better than a simple from-scratch recipe, but perhaps not quite reaching the peaks of gourmet brunch.
All in all, the process was a little involved and time-consuming, but the end result was a delicious, rich batch of hot and tasty waffles. If you have a White House chef at your disposal, you might request these every day. But for this mother of a toddler, I'll stick to boxed mixes and save these for a special weekend treat.
As early as the colonial era, the consumption of alcoholic beverages was a contentious issue in America. Drunkenness was generally frowned upon, and certain sectors of society believed that alcohol was nothing short of the devil’s juice. Tensions came to a head in the early 20th century, when the temperance movement (which advocated for moderation in all things), supported by groups such as the Anti-Saloon League, the National Prohibition Party, and women suffragists, convinced lawmakers to curtail what they saw as the calamitous and ungodly effects of alcohol.
The result was the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, ratified on January 16, 1919. One year after the ratification, the prohibition of alcohol in the United States began, and breweries, wineries, and distilleries across the country were shuttered.
Initially, the signs were positive. There was a significant reduction in alcohol consumption, booze-related hospitalizations declined, and there were notably fewer crimes related to drunkenness. But one thing never changed: Many people still enjoyed an occasional drink and weren’t willing to live completely dry lives. Enter bootleggers, speakeasies, and organized crime. The Prohibition era lasted until 1933, and marked a period of colorful characters, clandestine operations, and government corruption. Here are seven facts from this fascinating time in U.S. history.
The 18th Amendment prohibited “the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors” within the United States, but it didn’t ban the consumption of alcohol at home. So, during the one-year grace period before Prohibition began, people — those who could afford it, at least — began stockpiling wine and liquor while it was still legal to buy. Once the cellars had been stocked and Prohibition began, there was a notable rise in home entertaining and dinner parties — a shift that transformed America’s drinking culture in a way that’s still felt to this day.
Despite the constitutional law, certain legal loopholes existed that facilitated the acquisition of alcohol. Doctors could prescribe whiskey for medicinal purposes, making a friendly neighborhood pharmacist a handy source of booze — not to mention an ideal front for bootlegging operations. Religious congregations were allowed to purchase communion wine, which led to an increase in church enrollment. Winemakers, meanwhile, began selling “wine bricks,” rectangular packages of entirely legal concentrated grape juice that could be used to make wine at home. The packaging even came with a handy “warning”: “After dissolving the brick in a gallon of water, do not place the liquid in a jug away in the cupboard for twenty days, because then it would turn into wine.”
The main source of liquor during Prohibition was industrial alcohol, the kind of stuff used to make ink, perfume, and camp stove fuel. Bootleggers could make about 3 gallons of barely drinkable — and dangerous — “gin” or “whiskey” from 1 gallon of industrial alcohol. But industrial alcohol was denatured, meaning it had additives to make it foul-smelling, awful-tasting, and poisonous. And while bootleggers found a way to recondition the denatured alcohol into cheap booze — colloquially known as “rotgut” — that was drinkable, it was still capable of causing blindness or death. On average, about 1,000 Americans died every year during the Prohibition era from drinking tainted liquor. Many estimates put the number even higher, with up to 50,000 total deaths from unsafe alcohol during Prohibition.
Like thousands of other Americans, congresspeople and senators, including many of those who had voted in favor of Prohibition, often sought out illegal alcohol. One of their main suppliers was a bootlegger named George Cassiday, who started off supplying hooch to two House of Representatives members. Demand for his services soon increased, and before long he was making 25 deliveries a day to House and Senate offices. A dapper gentleman, Cassiday was easily recognized by his emerald fedora, and soon became known as the “man in the green hat.” He was arrested in 1930 and sentenced to 18 months in prison, but was allowed to sign out every night and return the next morning during his time in jail. The same year he was arrested, Cassiday wrote a series of articles for The Washington Post in which he estimated that 80% of Congress drank illegally.
Al Capone’s Oldest Brother Was a Prohibition Enforcement Agent
Al Capone was the most famous of all the gangsters who came to prominence during the Prohibition era. Capone’s brothers Frank and Ralph were also mobsters. Then there was James Vincenzo Capone, the oldest of the Capone brothers, who later changed his name to Richard James Hart. He took a decidedly different path than his siblings: He became a Prohibition agent. He was, by most accounts, a daring and effective law enforcer, whose tendency to carry two ivory-handled pistols earned him the nickname “Two-Gun” Hart.
The End of Prohibition Made U.S. Constitutional History
Prohibition was, ultimately, a failure. At least half of the adult population wanted to carry on drinking, the policing of Prohibition was marred by contradictions and corruption, and with no actual ban on consumption, the whole thing became untenable. So, on December 5, 1933, the 18th Amendment was repealed by the 21st Amendment, bringing about the end of the Prohibition era. The 18th Amendment made constitutional history, becoming the first — and, to this day, only — constitutional amendment to be repealed in its entirety.
If for some reason you yearn for the days of Prohibition, you can always vote for the Prohibition Party. Yes, the anti-alcohol party, formed in 1869, still exists. Not only has it championed the cause of temperance for more than 150 years, but it’s also the oldest existing third party in the United States. And while the Democrats have their donkey and the Republicans their elephant, the Prohibition Party’s mascot is the camel — an animal that can survive without drinking for almost seven months.
From gastropubs to college campuses, alcohol is present wherever people socialize. But liquor, beer, and wine didn’t just pop up overnight. These libations have a rich history dating back millennia. In fact, alcoholic beverages even predate many ancient civilizations — the earliest known fermented drinks date back as far as 13,000 years ago, when a beer-like porridge was brewed in a cave near modern-day Haifa, Israel.
In the many centuries since, booze has played a pivotal role in countless cultures. It’s been used as currency, cultivated in monasteries, and even distilled by America’s first President. So grab your favorite cocktail and keep reading for five facts about the history of alcohol.
Grape-Based Wines Originated in Modern-Day Georgia Around 6000 BCE
The winemaking industry as we know it began more than 8,000 years ago, with a group of farmers in a region of the South Caucasus now home to the country of Georgia. It wasn’t France or Italy that first turned grapes into wine, but rather residents of an ancient site known as Gadachrili Gora, a Stone Age village just south of modern-day Tbilisi. Archaeological excavations uncovered pottery fragments dating to the Neolithic period that contain residual wine compounds such as grape pollen and starch. These large vessels — early versions of a popular Georgian wine vessel known as a Qvevri — were decorated with depictions of grapes, further suggesting their use in winemaking. It’s believed the vessels were used for fermentation, aging, and serving all in one.
The ancient Sumerian people of Mesopotamia (near modern-day Iraq) created the first recorded evidence of barley beer around the year 3400 BCE (though beer likely dates back thousands of years earlier). In the centuries that followed, these early and popular beer-like beverages sprung up throughout the region. Few cultures at the time loved a brew to the degree of the ancient Egyptians, however; they treated the beverage as a key component of their everyday diet, as many meals consisted of just beer and bread. Wine was also popular in Egypt at the time, though it was often reserved for members of upper-class society, making beer more popular among those in the working class. Workers along the Nile River were even paid with an allotment of beer, as it was considered safer to drink than water from the polluted river. These libations were often flavored with additives such as dates and olive oil, only adding to their deliciousness at the time.
Champagne Pioneer Dom Pérignon Was a Benedictine Monk
Though he’s best known today for being the namesake of a famous fancy Champagne brand, Dom Pérignon was once a humble Benedictine monk living in 17th-century France. Pérignon was born in 1638 in France’s Champagne region, and though some sources erroneously credit him with inventing sparkling wine, he undoubtedly helped improve its production methods while living at the Abbey of Hautvillers. Pérignon made his way to the monastery in 1668, and at the time, Champagne’s wines were deemed inferior in color, quality, and flavor to products from the more popular wine regions of Burgundy and Bordeaux.
Pérignon worked to improve the region’s winemaking reputation — he invented a press to make clear wine from dark grapes, and reintroduced corks as reliable seals for bottles. Ultimately, however, it was Pérignon’s work on a process known as “méthode champenoise” (roughly translating to “the Champagne method”) that solidified his legend. He sought to better understand how the region’s cold weather impacted wine, and how the buildup of carbon dioxide caused certain bottles to explode. Pérignon went on to produce fizzy wines that the French were initially less fond of, but proved to be extremely popular with his English customers.
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George Washington Ran a Successful Whiskey Distillery
The history of whiskey long predates the United States, as the first written record of any whiskey liquor dates back to 1324 in a medieval manuscript known as the Red Book of Ossory from Kilkenny, Ireland. Over the next several centuries, the liquor expanded internationally, becoming one of the most popular alcohols in America. In 1797, one very famous American opened up a whiskey distillery of his own: the first President of the United States, George Washington.
After stepping down from the presidency earlier that year, Washington was encouraged by his plantation manager James Anderson to use the vast expanse of his Mount Vernon estate to open a whiskey distillery. Anderson believed doing so would be a wildly profitable endeavor, and he was right. A stone house large enough to contain five whiskey stills was built on the founding father’s estate in October 1797, and by 1799 the distillery was producing nearly 11,000 gallons of the liquor. That’s a sizable chunk larger than the 650 gallons produced on average by other Virginia-based distilleries at the time, making Washington’s distillery among the largest in the nation. Mount Vernon produced whiskeys flavored with additives such as cinnamon, not to mention some apple and peach brandies as well. The distillery forwent the bottling process, instead delivering the drink to local merchants in 31-gallon wooden barrels. Unfortunately, Washington passed away in 1799 right as the business reached its apex, and the distillery ceased operations shortly thereafter.
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American Doctors Prescribed Alcohol During Prohibition
From 1920 to 1933, the manufacturing and sale of alcohol was strictly forbidden in the United States — except in the world of medicine. With Americans desperate to acquire libations by any means necessary, a clever workaround was devised by the medical industry. During Prohibition, the U.S. Treasury Department authorized doctors to write prescriptions for alcohol, which in turn led to liquor being prescribed as a “cure” for ailments ranging from indigestion to cancer.
These boozy prescriptions cost around $7 (roughly a little over $100 today), half of which was paid to the doctor to write the prescription, with the rest going toward actually acquiring the medicinal pint. Even British statesman Winston Churchill took advantage of this loophole, acquiring a doctor’s note for alcohol use during a visit to America in 1932. His doctor Otto C. Pickhardt wrote, “Churchill necessitates the use of alcoholic spirits especially at meal times,” allowing the Brit to skirt past America’s Prohibition laws and imbibe as he pleased. The prescriptions proved to be a massive moneymaker for the medical industry before Prohibition was repealed in 1933 by the 21st Amendment.
A cocktail is an alcoholic drink that combines one or more spirits with other ingredients, such as bitters, juices, syrups, or tonic water. Depending on the ingredients, the flavor profile of a cocktail can be sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, or even salty. There is a mind-boggling array of ingredient combinations and names, and the libations can be served over ice, at room temperature, or on fire. Concocting one can be as simple as blending gin and tonic water over ice and adding a wedge of lime, or it can be a splashier, more involved affair, such as the Long Island iced tea.
The creation of the cocktail was inspired by punches that combined spirits, fruit juices, and spices in large bowls. Historians suspect these punches originated in the early 17th century with British sailors, who would use local ingredients from India or Indonesia to create their own alcoholic beverages. While beer would spoil during a long voyage, the addition of sugar and citrus to spirits would help preserve the punch.
In a world once dominated by beer and wine, these diverse and flavorful punches were a novelty, and the trend took off. Mixed drinks began as a way to serve a crowd of sailors or aristocrats, and evolved into individual concoctions that played with different combinations of ingredients. Today, the cocktail’s nearly infinite varieties make it the chameleon of alcoholic beverages, limited only by imagination and the ingredients on hand. The art and science of drink-making continues to be driven by innovative mixologists who create new recipes and put their personal stamp on traditional drinks that date back centuries.
The word “cocktail” was first used to describe a mixed drink in 1803. It appeared in a U.S. newspaper called The Farmer’s Cabinet, though the article didn’t include a definition of what constituted such a drink. The earliest definition of “cock tail” appeared in the May 13, 1806 issue of The Balance and Columbian Repository, which offered this description: “a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters.” The term gradually came to reference any kind of alcoholic mixed drink, and sometimes the word “cocktail” included a modifier — for example, “gin cocktail” — to specify a drink’s primary ingredient. That said, the mixing of ingredients traditionally associated with a cocktail predates the use of the word. In the 18th century, drinks combining a spirit, sweetener, water, and bitters were known to be imbibed, and bitters were often sipped for medicinal purposes.
The origin of the word “cocktail” is as muddled as a mojito. One possible explanation links the word for a mixed drink to a British reference about “cock-tailed” horses — that is, a horse whose tail has been docked or clipped to signify it was of mixed breed. Other theories include a mispronunciation of the French word for egg cup, “coquetier,” which was used as a drinking vessel by the New Orleans apothecary who created the famous Peychaud’s bitters. Some say the name comes from mixing the dregs of spirit barrels, known as “tailings,” and selling them at a low price. Yet another theory posits the name came from a horse breeder’s practice of inserting spices, specifically ginger, into the rear end of a horse in order to make the animal appear more energetic. However it came about, a cocktail by any other name would still taste delicious.
The old fashioned whiskey cocktail, usually referred to as just an old fashioned, is considered by many mixology experts to be the original cocktail. In fact, the 1806 definition of a “cock tail” is the basic recipe for an old fashioned, minus the orange peel, which came later. In the late 18th century, when imported wine was expensive in the U.S., domestic rye whiskey became the drink of choice, and its harsh taste could be mellowed with the addition of water, sugar, and bitters. The simple recipe was designed to make low-quality whiskey tastier. Of course, this predecessor of the modern cocktail didn’t get its name until decades after its creation. As new versions of the whiskey cocktail (and other mixed drinks) became popular, it’s likely that bartenders and enthusiasts of the original version would make the distinction by referring to the “old-fashioned” recipe.
Starting around the middle of the 19th century, Americans fell in love with cocktails. During this “golden age” — which lasted until Prohibition began in 1920 — a number of mixology guides were published, most of them written by well-known bartenders who worked in popular clubs and hotels. These celebrity bartenders had fans and rivals and turned mixology into a form of entertainment. “Professor” Jerry Thomas, as he was known, is considered the “father of American mixology” and was the first mixologist to take an oral tradition and put it in writing. His book,How to Mix Drinks: Or, the Bon-Vivant’s Companion, was first published in 1862 andincluded directions for mixing over 600 drinks, many of them acquired on Thomas’ travels through Europe and America. The result was a compilation of traditional and obscure cocktails, including the Philadelphia fish-house punch, Baltimore eggnog, Italian lemonade, as well as Thomas’ own signature creations, such as his flaming Scotch cocktail, the blue blazer.
Prohibition may have ended the golden age of cocktails, but the popularity of mixed drinks has shown staying power. Cocktails remained popular in various forms ever since, from the speakeasies and cocktail parties of the Prohibition era, to the tiki bars of the 1940s and '50s, to the three-martini lunches of the '60s. A decline occurred in the late '60s and '70s, followed by a resurgence beginning in the 1990s. Modern pop culture icons such as James Bond, Carrie Bradshaw, and Don Draper have helped immortalize their favorite drinks (a vodka martini, cosmopolitan, and old fashioned, respectively), and savvy restaurateurs have reinvented Prohibition-era speakeasies. On social media, celebrity mixologists and “cocktail influencers” introduce the next generation of cocktail enthusiasts to exciting new trends, such as extreme beverages that burn, cool, or tingle, contemporary twists on the classics, and inspired mocktails that bring all the flavor without any of the booze. Shaken or stirred, frosty or aflame, cocktail culture endures.