Peg Bracken - The I Hate to Cook Book: 50th Anniversary Edition

Original Work Copyright 1960 by Peg Bracken

50th Anniversary Edition Copyright 2010 by Johanna Bracken

Foreword Copyright 2010 by Johanna Bracken

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Grand Central Publishing

Hachette Book Group

237 Park Avenue

New York, NY 10017

Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

www.twitter.com/grandcentralpub

First eBook Edition: July 2010

Grand Central Publishing is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The Grand Central Publishing name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

ISBN: 978-0-446-56894-4

This new edition is dedicated to

John Ohman,

the love of my mothers life.

What can I say, except thank you?

Jo Bracken

W hen my mother wrote The I Hate to Cook Book in 1960, hers was a world with too few hours, not enough days, and never enough time. To handle the demands of being a full-time writer, full-time mother, and full-time wife, she wrote from 4 a.m. to 9 a.m., a habit she continued long into her golden years, as she laughingly called them.

My mother passed away in October of 2007. (And oh, how she would hate for me to use that phrase. Using two words where one would do, let alone not being direct in ones dialogue, was not something my mother could bear. I can hear her now: Johanna, dont beat around the bush. I died. Just say so!) Little did she know when she left this world and entered the next that while much has changed, those things that truly gave birth to the concepts in her book are still much the same as those our mothers faced in 1960.

True, you may now find your husband doing the cooking as often as youll find yourself in the kitchen (that is certainly the case in my house). And thanks to my PDA, and MP3 and DVD player, I can now do four things at the same time (and feel guilty that Im not giving any one of them my full attention). But while we have seen some amazing advancements over the last fifty years in computers, science, medicine, and a host of other areas, the one thing we have not been able to accomplish is adding more hours to our twenty-four-hour day. That, and the cure for the common cold, continue to elude even the best and brightest among us!

Writing the foreword to this anniversary edition of The I Hate to Cook Book was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. First, I am not a professional writer (my hat is off to anyone who decides to follow in the footsteps of his or her parents career) and second, for the first time in my life, my mom wasnt there to proofread what Id written. So I thought: What can I share with you about my mom? And the result is this foreword.

The I Hate to Cook Book was born from a group of professional women who would have been much happier sipping martinis with their husbands than spending the cocktail hour in the kitchen, slaving over a hot stove. These friends decided to share their pain (and surefire recipes) with the hope that they could get back at least a portion of that cocktail hour (and keep their families from going on strike at the same time). Two hundred recipes and a good number of Household Hints later, The I Hate to Cook Book went to press.

My mother never thought of herself as a cook, though she was, in fact, a great one. She saw herself as a poet and a humorist who just happened to fall into cooking. The reason The I Hate to Cook Book is as timely now as it was in 1960 is because, simply put, it will make you smile, it will make you laugh, and you can do that while whipping up a meal that your family will enjoy and still find time to run a few miles or enjoy that glass of wine while you watch the sun set.

When this book was originally published, there was not a lot of concern about the use of butter and cream in recipes, unless the concern was that it had been left out by mistake! In the 1960s you didnt hear people discuss their arteries at dinner parties. Discussion often centered on what of brand of cigarette to buy, not on the evils of smoking. So while butter, cream, and sour cream will be found in many (okay, most) of the recipes, you can certainly replace them with milk, yoghurt, low-fat sour cream, or a butter substituteif you must. Or, as with Chicken-Rice Roger, a recipe I have undoubtedly made once a month for a good part of my life, you can leave the butter out altogether, and no one will be the wiser.

My mother had the utmost respect for those she called good cooks who like to cook. Her famous phrase about them was Invite us over often, please. And stay away from our husbands. But Mom told me regularly she was just thankful she didnt have to be one. And while age has taught me great appreciation for my mothers cooking, growing up the daughter of The I Hate to Cook lady had its trials and tribulations. There was, of course, continual recipe testing, not only for her nine books but also for her newspaper and magazine columns, as well as testing other peoples recipes. And naturally, I had my favorites: Stayabed Stew, Chicken-Rice Roger, Sweep Steak, Lovely Lamb Shanks, Skid Road Stroganoff. There was the embarrassing moment of sitting with friends, watching television, when my mothers television commercial came on with her friendly but heavily Missouri accented Im Peg Bracken, and I hate to cook line, and I attempted to disappear into the folds of the couch. And of course there was the continual barrage of questions: Is your mom a good cook? Whats it like to have a famous mother? (Gee, I dont know. Why dont you ask someone who does? was my usual response.) But with my mothers fame came an unexpected guest in our home: vegetables, of the frozen variety.

Through the eyes of a now-fifty-four-year-old, who would be a better spokesperson for frozen vegetables than my mother, the woman at the forefront of getting women out of the kitchen as quickly as possible? Birds Eye hired my mother as their spokesperson because their products were much like my mothers recipes: quick and tasty items you would have in your freezer (much like the ingredients for the I Hate to Cook Book recipes) for any last-minute meal decisions. But in the eyes of a then-twelve-year-old who envied her friends white bread sandwiches (yes, I had wheat) and iceberg lettuce salads covered in ranch dressing (at my house, it was romaine with only enough oil and vinegar to kiss each leaf), a new frozen vegetable delight every night was inexcusable. Throw some tuna and curry into frozen creamed onions, bake it, and voiladinner? Spinach Surprise with Portland Pilaff? Really, I thought, just who was she trying to kid?

Fortunately for me, my mom, a notorious animal lover since birth, had given in to my nonstop whining for a dog, and as soon as we settled into our scenic northern California home, found an oversized canine to join us: Ralph, our Saint Bernard.

Being an eat it first, ask questions later kind of dog, Ralph loved most vegetables. Those he didnt like somehow found their way into a napkin, which was then tucked into the cushion of the dining chair to be removed at a later time. Id like to think that Ralph, like most wonderful household pets, helped keep the peace in our home, as my mother did not accept much complaining on my part when I saw a new frozen vegetable surprise on my plate. More than once my mothers rejoinder rang in my ears: Just be quiet and eat it. Its going to put you through college. And sure enough, they did! More than eighteen commercials (Ralph and I even made a cameo in one) certainly assisted in covering the cost of college tuition, even in the 1970s.