Every Sunday, Side/Dishes will showcase a recipe from an out-of-print or defunct (or vintage – call it what you will) cookbook.
Today we have the Stonecroft Ministries’ Family Cookbook, a vintage 1976 binder assembled and marketed for women of the Stonecroft Ministry congregation.
Based in Kansas City, MO, Stonecroft is a Christian international evangelical ministry aimed at empowering women through Christian testament, global outreach, and leadership training.
Side/Dishes does not endorse or in any way affiliate with this organization; I’m just posting this as an example and examination of a cultural object – it appears to be a fine example of (predominantly or entirely white, Northern European settler-derived) Upper Midwestern “Church Supper” culture, which itself has many regional and sociocultural intersections.
An outdoor Bar B Q of tube steaks, buns, bread, milk (?), and bananas (?!), prayerfully considered. This photo can be dated to within three or four months of the time in 1975 that the New York Daily News perhaps libelously considered that Gerald Ford had prayerfully considered New York City to drop dead.
Those bananas were likely shipped to the U.S. on Dole owned-and-operated refrigerator ships, floating cryostorage for a vertically-integrated produce empire customized to handle all aspects of the cargo loading process, from plantation to crane, reefer to store.
Indeed, those are clonal Cavendish bananas, ripened to stage 6 yellowness by storing the bananas at precisely 57.5 degrees, Fahrenheit during shipment – a unit of temperature known to industry insiders as a “banana.” Not a single finger ripened aboard the banana boat that ferried those delicious bananas to that Arcadian picnic scene – probably right as the bananagate scandal was unfolding…while in Honduras, military rule nationalized the country’s devastated banana industry from seed to rail, wrecked in the melee of Hurricane Fifi-Orlene, which killed up to 8,000 and displaced half a million in that Central American nation.
Bananas, milk, hot dogs, buns, bread, and prayerful praying.
None of these dishes have particularly appetizing names, especially the last of the lot, the hickory cheese loaf – basically carbo-loading that smells like a house fire.
As always, let me know if you consider giving any of these candidates a vote – prayerfully or not.