*****
What was I trying to make? I'm glad you asked that question, non-existent reader. I was trying to make a homemade version of College Inn Chicken and Noodles, a food that people over 45 or so remember with great fondness; and that people younger than 45 or so don't remember at all.
For those of you who have never had College Inn Chicken and Noodles, it was a heat-and-serve hybrid soup-stew that came in a glass jar. Every supermarket sold College Inn Chicken and Noodles. It was one of my very favorite childhood foods.
I hadn't thought about this food for many years, but then I had a sudden craving for it. It's no longer sold in stores, but I looked it up online, wondering if Amazon or some other online grocer might offer it. I didn't find any chicken and noodles. What I did find was an Internet rabbit hole of 70s nostalgia focused specifically on food.
If you look at old cookbooks, then you'll see very clear documentation of the changing tide of food trends through the decades. Recipes for things that people ate in the 60s and 70s (Beef Stroganoff, City Chicken, Salisbury Steak, fancy Jello molds) have pretty much vanished from modern cookbooks, except for the occasional retro/mid-century cookbook or blog, which will either modify the recipe for modern, health-conscious palates; or print it in its original form (perhaps even reproducing the Good Housekeeping layout and type style ) with "can you believe that people ate this" commentary.
And that's OK, because things change. Fashions change, tastes change. I don't even like most of the popular foods of the 70s (pimento loaf--gross), but sometimes I want to look at a street that I used to walk down as a child, or eat a soup that I used to love, just to see if they're as I remember them.
*****
I never did find the College Inn Chicken and Noodles. But I found a message board, which I won't link to because some people will post dirty stories even on a soup forum. Weirdos. Anyway, smut notwithstanding, the message board was mostly a gathering place for comfort food nostalgia. Aside from College Inn (the most popular topic) the commenters also remembered chicken a la king and boil-in-bag sliced turkey and gravy, both of which were often served over toast. Apparently, lots of people also ate College Inn Chicken and Noodles over toast, too. I'm not sure why we never thought of this. A missed opportunity.
*****
One man wrote a several-paragraphs-long post. He grew up as the youngest of three children, with two much-older sisters who were already in high school when he started school. His school had a half-day every Wednesday and he had lunch with his mother at home on those half-days. The boy and his mother would eat bowls of College Inn or slices of frozen pizza while watching the mid-day news, followed by the mother's favorite soap opera. He wrote about how much he loved those Wednesday afternoons, and the time alone with his mother, who died of cancer when the man was in 6th grade. By then, his older sisters had grown up and moved out of the house, and his father worked until 5, so the young boy came home to an empty house every day. On Wednesday afternoons, he would heat up a jar of College Inn, turn on the news, and eat his lunch in front of the TV, watching the midday news and his mother's favorite soap opera.
I was sad for this poor little boy, so lonely for his mother that he clung to the Wednesday afternoon routine of lunch in front of a soap opera, because it made him miss her a little less.
*****
It's Friday night now, the Friday before Christmas. My older son, a college student and lifeguard at a county aquatic center, is at work; as is my husband, a police officer. My younger son, a freshman in high school, is often out with his friends on Saturdays, but he usually stays at home on Friday nights. We go out for dinner together, or we get takeout; and then we watch hockey or movies. It's become our routine, and these Friday nights are the highlight of my week.
My son is making cookie dough now. Inexplicably, he loves to make cookies. I say "inexplicable," because I hate to make cookies. But one way or another, cookies will be made this weekend because it's the weekend before Christmas and at our house, we always make cookies on the weekend before Christmas. And at Christmas, my son insists that we do what we have always done. There's no one more nostalgic than a teenager at Christmas.
I wrote most of this months ago. The "few days" that I refer to in the opening paragraph probably happened last February or March. I found it as I was digging through my piles of unfinished drafts, and it seemed appropriate for today. There are cookies in the oven and the Capitals are beating New Jersey. Merry Christmas.
If you look at old cookbooks, then you'll see very clear documentation of the changing tide of food trends through the decades. Recipes for things that people ate in the 60s and 70s (Beef Stroganoff, City Chicken, Salisbury Steak, fancy Jello molds) have pretty much vanished from modern cookbooks, except for the occasional retro/mid-century cookbook or blog, which will either modify the recipe for modern, health-conscious palates; or print it in its original form (perhaps even reproducing the Good Housekeeping layout and type style ) with "can you believe that people ate this" commentary.
And that's OK, because things change. Fashions change, tastes change. I don't even like most of the popular foods of the 70s (pimento loaf--gross), but sometimes I want to look at a street that I used to walk down as a child, or eat a soup that I used to love, just to see if they're as I remember them.
*****
I never did find the College Inn Chicken and Noodles. But I found a message board, which I won't link to because some people will post dirty stories even on a soup forum. Weirdos. Anyway, smut notwithstanding, the message board was mostly a gathering place for comfort food nostalgia. Aside from College Inn (the most popular topic) the commenters also remembered chicken a la king and boil-in-bag sliced turkey and gravy, both of which were often served over toast. Apparently, lots of people also ate College Inn Chicken and Noodles over toast, too. I'm not sure why we never thought of this. A missed opportunity.
*****
One man wrote a several-paragraphs-long post. He grew up as the youngest of three children, with two much-older sisters who were already in high school when he started school. His school had a half-day every Wednesday and he had lunch with his mother at home on those half-days. The boy and his mother would eat bowls of College Inn or slices of frozen pizza while watching the mid-day news, followed by the mother's favorite soap opera. He wrote about how much he loved those Wednesday afternoons, and the time alone with his mother, who died of cancer when the man was in 6th grade. By then, his older sisters had grown up and moved out of the house, and his father worked until 5, so the young boy came home to an empty house every day. On Wednesday afternoons, he would heat up a jar of College Inn, turn on the news, and eat his lunch in front of the TV, watching the midday news and his mother's favorite soap opera.
I was sad for this poor little boy, so lonely for his mother that he clung to the Wednesday afternoon routine of lunch in front of a soap opera, because it made him miss her a little less.
*****
It's Friday night now, the Friday before Christmas. My older son, a college student and lifeguard at a county aquatic center, is at work; as is my husband, a police officer. My younger son, a freshman in high school, is often out with his friends on Saturdays, but he usually stays at home on Friday nights. We go out for dinner together, or we get takeout; and then we watch hockey or movies. It's become our routine, and these Friday nights are the highlight of my week.
My son is making cookie dough now. Inexplicably, he loves to make cookies. I say "inexplicable," because I hate to make cookies. But one way or another, cookies will be made this weekend because it's the weekend before Christmas and at our house, we always make cookies on the weekend before Christmas. And at Christmas, my son insists that we do what we have always done. There's no one more nostalgic than a teenager at Christmas.
I wrote most of this months ago. The "few days" that I refer to in the opening paragraph probably happened last February or March. I found it as I was digging through my piles of unfinished drafts, and it seemed appropriate for today. There are cookies in the oven and the Capitals are beating New Jersey. Merry Christmas.
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