The Perfect Salad Women and Cooking at the Turn of the Century. Written by Laura Shapiro. Illustrated. 280 pages. New York: Farrar, Strauss, Giroux. $16.95. Laura Shapiro’s delightful new book sheds light on one of the strangest mysteries of my adolescence. This is Goldenrod Eggs, the first lesson in my 8th grade home economics class, where I hard-boil the eggs, separate the whites and yolks, mix the chopped whites into freshly made white sauce, and pour the white mixture onto toast. Brush on top and artistically top everything with crushed egg yolk. As far as I know, no one has ever eaten anything like that, so why would anyone eat it, especially while the boys were out in the shops learning useful things like carpentry and radio repair? It was unclear whether there was an obligation to cook. For the first time, I realized that adolescence is not the nadir of human existence, after all. If eggs like goldenrod define women’s work, the worst may be yet to come.
“Perfect Salad” offers rich historical background about goldenrod eggs as well as related culinary mysteries, including the famous salad of my youth: a molded jelly-o filled with canned grapes and tiny marshmallows. Masu. Both were products of the “scientific cooking” movement started by progressive-minded women near the turn of the century, and goldenrod eggs served their aspirations both socially and domestically. It’s quite symbolic. It is made from natural foods and there is nothing to suggest the act of eating. Second, it included white sauce, which was praised for its ability to make all food “classy,” clean, and American. Third, it is bland, textureless, and is an important characteristic of “scientifically” restrained foods. Finally, although Dr. Shapiro doesn’t stress this point too much, it took much longer to prepare than a regular weekday breakfast. Any lazy housewife can whip up eggs and toast them. Goldenrod eggs and their friends were a sign of “professional” housewives who cooked not to eat or nourish, but to demonstrate the deep rationality of modern domestic life.
There are two stories here, one about American food and one about American women, and the fact that they mesh so well is a testament to the challenges faced by American women at the dawn of a new millennium. It says a lot about the prospects and possibilities. Most occupations remained closed to women, but processed foods, ready-made clothing, and other conveniences meant housewifery was no longer an all-consuming occupation for women on the frontier. Faced with a dead end in their careers and an apparent void in their families, some middle-class women became feminists and social reformers. Some sought to transform housework itself into a rewarding scientific occupation. They, as they called themselves, soon invented scientific methods of cleaning, raising children, and cooking. And many looked forward to the day when specialized training in biochemistry, bacteriology, psychology, and perhaps the new management sciences would be a prerequisite for starting housekeeping.
Most of these attempts to apply “science” to everyday life were completely in vain. For example, scientific parenting meant breastfeeding babies in a planned manner and parents refraining from overt affection. But nothing could transcend the crazy dogmatism of scientific cooking. Blissfully ignorant about vitamins, fiber, saturated fat, and many of the other nutritional elements that plague us today, scientific chefs continued to develop foods they found appealing. It was advertised (i.e., orderly, color-coordinated, i.e., all-white meals were in vogue). Nourish (meaning rich in calories) and American (meaning dishes originating from New England, such as fish balls and baked beans). Those with weak stomachs should not be advised to study the history of American cuisine circa 1900. Because it includes culinary masterpieces like bean salad made with canned baked beans, onions, salad dressing, and whipped cream, and mashed Thorndike potatoes. Potatoes and bananas are stuffed into a banana peel, topped with parmesan cheese and baked.
