So, food.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a household run by people who had spent their college years in de facto poverty: it meant that both my mother and father had a lot of experience making meals for very little money that would feed them for several days and still taste of something worth eating.

We didn't go by cookbooks, in my house, except for things like sponge pudding or particular baked goods that required exact measurements to turn out right. I learned to cook basic food without needing a recipe, and how much is enough of this herb and that herb to throw into a dish by watching my parents--and by trial and error. Living on my own, cooking is a bit more complicated than it would be for more than one person: ingredients need to be bought in the right proportion and stored until needed, whereas in a household of three or more you don't need to worry about aliquoting your veg or bread or whatever into freezer-ready bits so it won't spoil before you can use it.

I've spent some time looking at cookbooks from the Lurid Vintage era of cookery, and what strikes me most obviously about them is that almost every meat recipe contains sugar. Here's a representative but fictitious example:

Polynesian South-Of-The-Border Cheesy Meat Roast Bake

Mix one pound of ground beef with half a pound of Velveeta (if using real cheese, add half a cup of vegetable oil and three drops of yellow food coloring). Add 1 one-pound can of pineapple tidbits, drained (reserve syrup). Mix in one cup packed brown sugar, half a cup of vinegar, two cloves, one quarter teaspoon of black pepper, and one can sweetened condensed milk. Mix to emulsify.

Grease a pyrex baking dish sufficient to hold the contents and pour in your meat batter. Bake at 350 for 2 hours or until pretty much done. 10 minutes before removing from oven, pour syrup from pineapple bits over meat and replace in oven to glaze. Garnish with radish roses. Your family will love it!

It's most obvious in the dishes made from pig--almost nothing pig-related in the fifties, sixties, or seventies was included in recipes without honey, brown sugar, molasses, more honey, or fruit syrup of some description. It's an interesting sociological point when you think of what you might say today if someone offered you Ham With Nectarines or Piquant Meat Ring (containing half a pound of refined sugar).

Tonight, for example, I had ghetto caprese salad consisting of chopped cherry tomatoes and fresh mozzarella cubes with a dressing of olive oil, salt*, black pepper, and basil. Followed by a chicken breast butterflied and stuffed with tarragon and marjoram and baked with garlic and onion. Neither of these dishes contained any form of sugar other than that included naturally with the tomatoes, and surprisingly enough I did not miss it. Perhaps the era of sweetened meatloaf has passed.

We can hope.

*okay so it was pink himalayan salt but don't judge me, that shit is amazing