I loved going to my friend's house for lunch. Her mother made the best tuna salad and allowed us to put Utz potato chips on the sandwich. WOW

Owlie, great post. I assume you had outgrown the red-and-white cap by the time that picture was taken.

I'm confident you are going to bring back painful memories for most of us. Mine involved spending the night at David Spritzer's house and waking up to the smell of fried eggs, which I never--EVER--ate because they actually made me physically ill. As in hurling ill. (They still do and I'm so sensitive to the taste of a fried egg that in a restaurant, I can tell if the bacon was cooked near the eggs on the grill.)

Oh, the memories. I guess I was spoiled because even though my mom wasn't a gourmet cook, most everything she made was from scratch and tasted great. All my friends tried to wrangle invitations to eat at my house, especially on spaghetti night. My friends' moms were wonderful, and baked the most glorious desserts, but how I hated to be invited to dinner at any of their homes, where I faced the double travesty of spaghetti with Heinz ketchup (a sin against pasta and against Heinz ketchup); wet, slimy, runny scrambled eggs; and some kind of smelly, greasy, unidentifiable pile of glop that was supposed to be Hungarian goulash or beef stroganoff and which forced me to bolt from the table to the safety of home. The horror of the last hasn't faded over the years-- when I was in Buda a few years ago, having the worst birthday dinner ever, the main course was goulash. (It fit in perfectly with the rest evening.) I had to leave the table to compose myself.

My mother was a big health-food nut in the 19070s. Terrifyingly huge boxes arrived from Walnut Acres and other purveyors. Neighorhood moms gave out a signature treat to visiting children: mini Tootsie Rolls, starlight mints, Hershey's kisses, Toosie pops. My mother handed out brewer's yeast tablet and vitamin E capsules. Scared for life. (Oh yeah, and now that she is a grandmother, all of this has changed. Once gave my kids 5 popsicles in one afternoon. Faces were purple and orange, respectively, for a week. I seethe with resentment.)

I believe I combed my hair like that in the 1950's ( when I still had hair ). I know a guy who is in his late sixties who still combs his hair like that.

Oh, the trauma of lunch at a friends house. Having been taught to always be courteous and eat what was served you, I remember visiting a neighborhood friend who had moved to the next town and I was served Mac and Cheese from a can ( Franco American brand I think).

I ate it all but I had never seen it before and I never remember seeing it again after but I certainly never ate it again.

Porchetta again this weekend!

When I was 8 and eating lunch over my friend's house, I could not understand why the grilled cheese sandwiches his mom made still had the crust on them!
In my mind all people ate grilled cheese with no crust...just like Mom made them.

What the well-dressed little gentleman wears for lunch.

Mmmm...LEC, you are a person after my own heart.

At my best friend's house growing up, they literally put the 26 oz. container of salt out on the table at dinnertime. We would pour a few teaspoons of it into one palm, and then sprinkle it all over the buttered noodles and bun-less burgers. Loved it. As a "grown-up" living by myself it took me over four years to use up a 4 oz. shaker.

My mom was a cook-all-day-from scratch type. She could never understand why my favorite lunch at my friend's house was a fried bologna sandwich slathered with mustard. I think the appeal came from the fact that no parent cooked at that house....we kids just threw a stick of butter in a cast iron skillet, pumped up the heat, and threw in our Oscar Mayer bologna til it screamed and curled up on the sides. Thankfully, my tastes have evolved a little.

oops, I forgot to mention that the perfect beverage was served by us to us with those fried bologna sandwiches....Kool-Aid (the kind where you added 5 cups of sugar to a 5 cent package). At home, the ONLY beverage served with any meal was whole white milk.

ah yes, Kool-Aid. Remember it well. I didn't like the orange or grape, but all the others were good.

My parents would also get the gallon containers of Coca-Cola syrup and mix some of that with water for a non-carbonated cola drink. For a few years as a kid, that was about all I'd drink.

I don't remember too much about lunch at other kids' houses.

Growing up my mother always called Mayonnaise or Miracle Whip "Salad Dressing". One of my friend's mother asked if I wanted Mayonnaise on my sandwich, and I had no idea what that was. You want to talk about a mighty dry sandwich!

The best dish my mother cooked was tuna fish and rice with Velveta cheese. When I was eleven I was invited to dinner at a classmate's house. They lived above a restaurant on York Road near Belvedere Square. Her father was the chef. They fed me this wonderful, melt in your mouth meat. Years later I realized it was just a properly cooked steak. I can still taste it.

OMG won't talk to us anymore as OMG, other than through the Funtastics, I suppose?

My mom's cooking, ... well, I've gone over her love for 60's frozen and canned foods. But she did have a way with grilled cheese and tomato soup (Campbells) on a cold and rainy day.

My neighbors, the hipsters across the street with the pic of Blaze Starr behind their bar, had HUGE bottles of Pepsi or Coke at their house that they served icey cold. We only had juice or koolaid (sp?) so I thought I'd died and gone to heaven over there!

When we were little my introduction to pizza was Chef Boy-Ar-Dee out of the box. I refused to eat it and always had a burger while the rest of the family ate it. At about 16, I had a slice from the first pizza joint in town, and thought I was in heaven.

yo yo yo Yum Po

I'm representing for them blogsters all across the world
Still hitting them corners in them low low's girl
Still taking my time to perfect the beat
And I still got love for the streets, it's the O-W-L

Love the outfit. He looks like a junior waiter at the Greenbrier.

The picture is not me. Given my fashion-forward toddler years that get-up is a fashion don't. I love the combination of misery and white boy, white shirt, white drink, and white bread.

Word, OMG. Thank goodness --having that hussy abscond with my bacon tiara and having you disappear from this blog would be two devastating blows too many for one day.

Does anyone remember Fizzees from that era? It probably ruined my tooth enamel for life.

Always looking out for you and others YP. Owls are by nature very moody solitary creatures and quite savage when provoked. Sometimes we just need to sit in our trees and be. Let me know if any English bounders are too much for you. How devious of him to change his name to something tasty. He should pay you royalties. Back to the Being-branch. I think I'll read some Sylvia Plath now. I feel a fever dream coming.

Owl is right, the kid looks like he's getting yelled at, or just had a spanking.

Old Phil, I remember those pizza-in-a-box kits. They weren't that great, but it was my only exposure to pizza until the teenage years.

RayRay, remember the Ice Cream Tree (where Zorba's is now) and their pizzas? We used to scarf them down. Especially since the small was like a buck, so for us it was a personal pizza.

Fizzies, the name is vaguely familiar. I guess they were the pre-cursor to Pop Rocks.

Remember Lik-Em-Aids? Those straws filled with mostly sugar and some flavoring added?

Fizzies? Were they the tablets composed of sugar and hydrochloric acid (not really) you put in water?

or pop rocks?

Mr McIntyre needs to show that boy how to put on a bow tie properly.

Dahlink, we're having a happy Fizzies party!

One of Mom's best dinners was creamed peas and tuna on toast. We could only have it when Dad was away on a business trip because he didn't care for it.

I think I've been a quinine addict since the age of nine. I used to steal one of those little bottles of Schweppes Bitter Lemon my Dad used as a drink mixer, pour it in a paper cup, and put it in the freezer.

Bitter Lemon mixer

A very rare find in these parts. If found, usually in the small bottle six packs rather than the liter containers in MD.

Yeah his bowtie bothered me too. I think he grew up to be a serial killer. Bad bowties will do that. At least he's not wearing a dickie.

How about a nice Hawaiian Punch?

I think I still have nerve damage in my shoulder from that.

Didn't it come bliue? Blue fruit punch? Ouch, stop hitting me.

My friend Sherry's mom used to make us peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches with jelly! Oh the sugary crazy. White bread natch.

I have a scary memory of her mother (sorry if this gives anyone the willies) opening a tin of Vienna sausages and making hors d'oeuvres for us with saltines and spray cheese. Just look away now if you have a weak stomach. Sherry used to drink the Vienna sausage juice from the tin.

Ahhhh... avert your eyes.

Oh, gods. Pizza in a box. Yet another thing my father always burned.

He really was an awful cook. His spam studded with cloves surrounded by apple sauce, then burned was a culinary lowpoint.

He broiled Canadian bacon once, and swear it was still on fire when he put it on my plate.

Meals at my friends' homes were always a culinary delight, as I was never allowed to have any of that stuff at home, including: fried anything, fried chicken, chicken fried steak, pan fried bologna, microwave burritos, any kind of sweet stuff, frozen pizza, jiffy pop popcorn, kool aid, any kind of soda, steak 'ums sandwiches, little debbie snacks, spaghetti-os and ravioli, mini egg rolls and mini pizza rolls, doritos.... all that kind of stuff.

I do remember, however, being stuck with some pushy lady friend of my mom's (from new york, of course) one weekend, who tried to make me eat eggplant and make my sister eat watermelon. she forced us to after we refused. and we both ceremoniously barfed all over her kitchen table, my sister at breakfast, me at dinner. good times.

Good night Elizabeth.

I hope that neither of us are up at 2 AM tonight.

My great aunt Esther was the first person I knew to have an Amana "radar range" and a Polaroid camera, the one with the flash blubs that shot out like hot coals. She was a retired Russian teacher in Tamaqua PA. Despite her awesome new kitchen tech the only thing I ever remember her making was the world's best pot roast, gravy and something called Brownstone Front cake. Mmm... tasty all the way around. She wouldn't be caught dead making junk food in fthe microwave. I have no idea why she had it.

My first experience with "weird food" was when my playmate's mom invited me to stay to lunch. Mrs. Klein made bologna sandwiches on rye, with real mayo. I'd never eaten anything but white bread, and what Mom called mayonnaise was actually Miracle Whip. This was in the 50's, when kids were raised to be polite, so I ate the sandwich and thanked her for lunch. But, when I went home, I told Mom about the weird-tasting brown bread and funny-tasting mayo. She just laughed and shook her head. Now, good rye is one of my favorite breads, and I use Miracle Whip VERY sparingly.

Fried tripe sandwhiches on white bread with ketchup. And hominy fried in butter with salt and pepper. Not to horrible if you like Bridgestone on white!! Thanks, Owlie. I've spent about 40 years trying to get that image out of my head. I love my mom, but...There's not enough therapy for me to ever get over this.

My mother was ahead of her time. We ate all sorts of whole grain breads, not the ubiquitous Wonder Bread. But she did allow us to have Fizzies, which were sort of like colored Alka-Seltzer tablets you dropped into water to watch fizz.

Lissa, your family was a culinary minefield! You must have been strong to survive.

Dahlink, Mom wasn't a bad cook, it just bored her horribly, so I took over the cooking (among other things) when I was 8 or so.

Mom did have a healthy food phase in the early 70's that wasn't very tasty, though. There was wheat germ sprinkled on top of everything (including ice cream) for a few months there.

Bourbon Girl and Lissa,
Your comments have me laughing out loud here at work. Luckily I'm the only one here at the moment.

Thanks!

PCB Rob,
I had totally forgotten about The Ice Cream Tree! Ahh good times, good times.
Another thing that I loved was going to Reads and getting a danish that they would put in a little steamer box.

Thank you OMG. As long as you are still watching over us, all is well. I appreciate your offer; Lord M is quite amusing in this new incarnation -- the "sweeter side of the English biscuit" indeed! If he can dispatch that hussy imposter and present me with the porky grail, he will have done much to redeem his earlier alter ego.

As for you, ditch the Plath, curl up with BG, and read aloud together from a more pleasing book -- may I suggest "Totally Herotica?"

I fondly remember being introduced to real Mexican food at my friend, Delilah's house when I was about 5. Her mom made us burritos with homemade tortillas and homemade refried beans, or on other occasions, spicy pork tamales. Delilah's family also introduced me to goat meat at one of their family cookouts. Mmmmmm, I wonder if they still live there....

MMMMMM ... Barbacoa

TerrierMom - Loved the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches (no jelly though). What an odd word marshmallow is. I mean, just look at it. What IS it supposed to mean? Sorry, I digress.

Bourbon Girl, everything you could not eat is pretty much what I grew up eating. My mom worked evening shifts, so she was usually gone by the time we got home from school. So dinner was up to us kids or Dad. So if dinner wasn't a bowl or two of Count Chocula cereal, it was a pizza/fast food/hot dogs, etc...

anybody ever have the famous Kraft mac and cheese, Campbell cream of mushroom soup, and tuna creation better known as tuna noodle casserole? Oh, and sometimes it had frozen peas in it....

Dahlink, we had fizzies. I wasn't as in love with them to eat as to just disolve them and watch 'em in the glass.

Trixie,
Way back when the Pharaohs were kings of the Nile confections were made from Marshmallow plants, hence the name.

Dahlink -- I remember Fizzees as the tablets that never did quite perform as advertised -- they wouldn't dissolve completely in the prescribed water amount, leaving a Tang-like sludge on the bottom of your glass and a weak carbonation. Those who aren't familiar with Fizzies can learn more at this webpage. Interesting side note -- Fizzies were developed by the Emerson Drug Company, the Baltimore-based folks who brought you Bromo Seltzer.

Joyce,
We had the tuna noodle casserole a lot when I was growing up. Peas were usually included as well.

Kraft mac and cheese (Kraft dinner) was also a featured item on my Mom's menu. We talked about that a lot on Owl's Funtastic Thursday post last week I think.

Wait a minute, did you mean all three mixed together?

That's the nature of the casserole Rob. Glurph. At least my mother did anything like that. Sure she killed a guy in Reno just to watch him die, but you know.

I'm really pleased that the post got so many people to share so many (repressed) memories. I thought it was a bit of a throwaway when I wrote it. For those who remembered things best left in the past, well, Recovered Childhood Lunch Trauma (RCLT) is the least serious form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Thanks again for commenting.

It may be that many of us grew up in households where our parents were doing the best they could, at the time, to provide for us. It might have been not so good taste-wise, but at least they tried. We should be thankful for their efforts.

Thanks Mom and Dad!

Really great topic, Owl, thanks!

Fl Rob, yup. The casserole consisted of Kraft dinner mixed with tuna, mixed with cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas and then baked until brown and bubbly. This was not part of our "usual" weekday dinner line up. It was "special"....

I'm totally winging this but I think that there was a period where we had more faith in technology than technological knowledge of nutrition

[Oh god here he goes again. I really preferred him when he was emotionally and physically destroyed and drawing on genuine memories rather than his pseudo-intellectual meanderings}

I think that a lot of mothers thought that technology was good and healthy because that's what they were told. The old ways were bad. After all the old ways created Stalin, HItler and Pat Boone. Faith in technology is paramount in the US. But I digress.

RCLT?? Did I mention above that the lunch of fried bologna sandwiches was served at the friend's house whose same (new york) mother tried to shove eggplant down my throat and whose husband joe (i'm not kidding) sat around all day in a stained wife beater drinking budweiser cans with their uber slobbering bulldogs and yelled at us unintelligably and gave his own son the sort of wedgies that included hanging him by his wedgie on the banister post? It was lunch and brutality all in one, guaranteed.

Memories.... light the corners of my mind...misty watercolor memories....

Major swerve alert. Owl Meat Gravitas (good one, OMG!) wrote: I think that a lot of mothers thought that technology was good and healthy because that's what they were told. The old ways were bad. I was born when the doctors considered breast-feeding inferior to the bottle, and babies had to be put on a feeding schedule. I will always be grateful to my mother for defying the doctors twice--first by breast-feeding, against their advice, and second for switching me to a 3-hour schedule instead of the 4-hour schedule the pediatrician recommended. He finally did concede, "Oh well, maybe she is a 3-hour baby," when Mother pointed out that I started to cry an hour before each carefully scheduled feeding. Now I think I'll wander over to the Mommy blog.

I can't believe we've gotten this far without anyone mentioning Tang and that astronaut candy that came in a rope...space food?

BG, Even though I've heard that story at least once before, it's still funny. Now tell them the part about your cousin who collected glass figurines and her gentlemen callers. B>)

Astronaut candy? I don't remember that.

Tang? Evil just evil. Let me take a wild guess at the ingredients: sugar, citric acid, ascorbic acid, artificial and natural flavors, and orange color. Drank a boat full of it. It was a beacon of technology. Freakin' astronauts drank it.

Didn't they have grape Tang too?

And you could "make" Tang yourself as a kid like a real bootstrapping American cowboy. Technology ruled. Still does.

◄:o)╥╥~

Bourbon Girl - now I think we know what drove you to drink.

snacks at my house consisted of fruit, animus, and guilt. Mmmm....

I laughed out loud. Then I realized that I didn't write it. Wry memories of dysfunctional childhood snacking is my bailiwick Mr. Gravy. Plus you left out a chain-smoking mother. I'm watching you.

Laconically yours,
David Sedaris

◄:o)╥╥~ !!! Party Animal?Or is that for me? I likey!

Yep, there was a grape Tang. Ick.

I used to mix the orange Tang with just enough water to make it sludge-like, then eat it with a spoon.

Space food. My memory is that they were like a long, tasteless tootsie roll.

Word up y'all
this is Grand Master Tang representin'
for the Space Drink Coalition.
Tang ain't gone
be here all the time (Still)
hittin' them corners in them low-lows girl (Still)
Wanna bust on Tang?
Don't go there girl 'cause
the Vitamin C gonna knock you out.

Feel the magic of Tang

Tang was nasty.

BG, your recall of the guy in the stained wife beater pounding the Buds is classic, in an Archie Bunker sorta-way. I hope you and your sis didn't go over there too much.

They also had a grapefruit Tang.

I think that a lot of mothers thought that technology was good and healthy because that's what they were told. The old ways were bad.

Oh, yeah. The 50s and early/mid-60s were all about "modern". "Old-fashioned = very bad.

Bird, I like you better when you have a little substance.

Bird, I like you better when you have a little substance.

And your response, Bird?

So that's where the Wu Tang Clan got their name. How wholesome.

Thanks Eve. Don't get your hopes up, there's not much substance in here, it's just monkeys in kayaks.

Next week: The Killing Fields – Lunch Pol Pot

B>), please don't go there.

That was a joke.

Thursday's child has far to go.