On the Iowa State campus is one who personifies the perfect male. His name cannot be divulged; his popularity with the opposite sex has already reached a high enough peak that any added publicity would increase the number of his feminine admirers to unmanageable amounts

Bernds, Marie

English

On the Iowa State campus is one who personifies the perfect male. His name cannot be divulged; his popularity with the opposite sex has already reached a high enough peak that any added publicity would increase the number of his feminine admirers to unmanageable amounts.</p

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Mr. Eligible Bachelor Asserts, ~~Men Crave Real Food~~ O N THE Iowa State campus is one their culinary skill are men. Before who personifies the perfect male. marriage they seek to char:m the un-His name cannot be divulged; his wary male with food; after marriage popularity with the opposite sex has al- they seek to keep him agreeable and ready reached a high enough peak that contented by the same means. any added publicity would increase the With these things in mind, we opened number of his feminine admirers to our interview with Mr. Eligible Bachelor unmanageable amounts. by asking him his opinions about food Therefore, in reporting this interview and how it should be cooked and served. with him, we must call him by a de- Although at first somewhat astonished scriptive rather than an exact title, by the question, he soon admitted the and refer to him, appropriately enough, importance of the subject, and his pro-as Mr. Eligible Bachelor. found observations about what men like He is the composite of all the men to eat began to fill our notebook. girls have ever dreamed about. He is "You know," he began, "lots of wo-tall, handsome, charming, polite, ath- men seem to think that food is only to letic and intelligent. He has a car, wears look at. They think the highest praise a Tux beautifully and knows all the anybody can give some food they have right answers as well as the right ques- prepared is 'Isn't it pretty!' Maybe tions. He has the smoothness of Wil- women just want to sit and look at food, liam Powell, the virility of Gary Cooper, but I know for a fact that men like to the wit of Robert Montgomery, the dash eat it. of Errol Flynn, the well-bred air of "Don't think that I mean food shouldn't Franchot Tone, and in addition, the elus- look nice, be arranged attractively and ive something that has made Robert so forth. I'm just begging for a little Taylor, America's adored one for 1937. moderation. People get so fanatic about To ask such a paragon of all desirable the subject of 'pretty food' that they qualities a mundane question about his don't care whether the stuff tastes good opinion on foods required some audac- or not. ity. At first it might seem inappropriate "They apparently begin to think of the that such apparently unromantic sub- people grouped around the dinner table jects as bread and butter or steak and as an Art Jury rather than as a hungry onions be chosen for discussion with congregation, craving something that such a romantic individual as Mr. Elig- looks, smells, and IS good to eat. I tell ible Bachelor. you, men like food edible; they don't However, the old proverb to the ef- care if it's a little ugly." feet that the way to a man's heart is Here a sad look came into Mr. Eligible through his stomach, served as the in- Bachelor's eyes, as if he were recalling spiration for the interview. Not only some melancholy incident in the past. home economics students, but women Presently he spoke again. "You know," everywhere are ·learning to cook-cut- he mused, "there was once a girl, a ting their fingers as they pare a parsnip pretty nice girl, and I liked her very and tip-toeing softly around the kitchen well. Then, one day, I went to a St. while the sponge cake in the oven de- Patrick's Day party at her home. She cides to rise or fall. The purpose of all had taken great pains with the spread. this effort is as often directed towards Everything possible had been done to the pleasure of the male as is a neat carry out the idea of the Irish shamrock job of finger-waving, a frilly dress, an and St. Patrick. artistic m~keup, or a well-aimed wink. "I didn't mind the green bread, green 1'he joy of a cook is not in her prod- ice cream, green cookies, green candies ucts as much as it is in the pleasure they and green soup, but when I saw the give to others. Perhaps most often the green mayonnaise on the salad and the persons women wish to impress with little open faced sandwiches with curv-10 by Marie Bernds ing bits of green cheese on them, fixed up to look like the snakes that St. Pat-rick chased out of Ireland, my heart turned slowly sick within me. "I wonder where that girl is now," he said. "I couldn't bear to see her for a long time after that. "What's the trouble?" he asked me plaintively. "Do women like to work and slave for hours over something that will be eaten in a couple of minutes if it serves its proper destiny? Do they care for art more than they do for eating? If they must slave over making super-artistic effects, why can't they take up china painting or soap carving or some-thing like that? Why can't they con£ne their efforts with food to making some-thing that's good to eat and looks it?" Apparently, these were merely rhet -orical questions, for without stopping for a reply, Mr. Eligible Bachelor rushed on. "Once I was almost engaged to a girl," he reminisced. "In fact, one night when I was invited over to her home for dinner I intended to pop the question and hang my fraternity pin right then and there. She announced proudly that she had made the dinner, so alas! I knew by the time the meal was over that I could not ask her to be my wife. Consider first the pork chops she served! True, they were Frenched and were decorated with lovely mauve frills of paper at the ends. "I could have stood that bit of femi-nine vanity if the chops had been cooked right. But they were slightly scorched on the outside, slightly raw in the cen-ter, and the things had stood so long that they were in a greasy, cold condi-tion by the time they reached the table. It's bad enough when a good cook goes in for these colossal artistic effects, but when a poor cook tries to conceal her cooking by a paper frill, it's unbearable. "And talk about concealing," he con-tinued mournfully, "you should have seen how that girl concealed a tomato. A perfectly good tomato, mind you. A tomato is a beautiful thing, to my way of thinking; in itself, it pleases the ar-tistic sense and at the same time arouses the appetite. A tomato has absolutely April, 1937 nothing to be ashamed of. "However, here was this poor tomato all covered and plastered with cream cheese, made to resemble a white rose. The girl had evidently spent hours in an attempt to make the cheese look like rose petals. But all of her work seemed sort of pitiful to me. I would much rather eat a tomato than a white rose any day!" Poor Mr. Eligible Bachelor looked quite distressed as he recalled the to-mato incognito; he sank into a deep reverie and we were about to creep out and leave him with his sad thoughts, when he called us back. "One more thing I'd like to get off my chest," he said, "and that's how women like to starve men in the name of dainti-ness. They like athletic men; they like tall, dark, and handsome men with bulg-ing biceps. But they don't seem to rea-lize that such a man requires more food than does a ninety-eight pound female. They serve a man a fruit salad, a lamb chop, a parsley garnish (art again!), a radish, and a decrusted slice of toast, and expect him to retain all his manly quali-ties on such a low caloric diet." At last a lighter mood seemed to cap-ture Mr. Eligible Bachelor. His troubled frowns disappeared, and he seemed able to detect at least a glimmer of humor on the subject. "I must seem an awful beast," he said, smiling charmingly and looking devas-tatingly like Robert Taylor. "Here I am criticizing some of the best qualities that women have. Nothing helps a woman to become attractive as much as her daintiness and her ability to improve on the bountiful gifts of na-ture. I guess my only legitimate com-plaint is her occasional immoderation. "In the case of food, I just wish she would remember that men consider food as something primarily meant to be eaten. If she must be dainty, she need not starve her male guests in the midst of plenty; and if she must be artistic, she need not forget that a fried egg, however inartistic, is undeniably more appetizing than an artistic oil painting." As we left this attractive man, he said finally, "Please don't think me unrea-sonable. I'm just pleading the cause of edible food." And his attractive manly dimples showed as he smiled in fare-well. Pacl~ a Sense of 1-lumor In Your Picnic Hamper D ID you ever get up at 5 o'clock on a Sunday morning, put on your oldest slacks and last year's ox-fords, and, with something to eat, tramp 'way out beyond any signs of people to watch the early sun? Or maybe you would rather take a group of friends and your supper and hike out to Sunset Rock to watch the sun go down? If you have done neither, then you are indeed unfortunate, but you have a real thrill to look forward to. Perhaps you don't like quiet picnics; then get the "gang" together, take an afternoon off to find a new picnic place, play hide-and-seek or drop the hand-kerchief to your heart's content and sing the old high school pep songs or the latest, noisiest popular song from the "Hit Parade." Picnics have several requirements of one kind and another, the first one of which is always food. Almost everything tastes good at a picnic. What if the weiners do fall in the fire, or the steak does get burned around the edges? Just eating out-of-doors gives everything a distinctive flavor. But here are ideas for something different that LaVonne Moret obtained from Girl Scout Camp. For instance, "Sunrises" made from graham crackers with toasted marsh-mallows and canned apricots between them are a grand idea for early morning picnics. Then, if you want something more difficult, take a skillet, some ready-mixed pancake flour, milk, and bacon. When your fire is made, heat the skillet and fry on one side in it a piece of bacon, pour in the flapjack batter you have just mixed, and presto! flapjacks of the highest grade! On these first rate pan-cakes eat a first rate spread called "pooh The Iowa Homemaker by Helen Clark butter." It is made by creaming butter and mixing it with ·honey. For a rather large group, a delicious stew is made by browning hamburger and onions and adding vegetables. A can of tomatoes gives sufficient liquid. Another dish is squaw corn, made by mixing canned corn with onions and ba-con. To make "angels on horseback" wrap a strip of bacon around a cube of brick cheese and hold this on a forked stick over the open fire. When the bacon be-gins to brown and the cheese to melt, take the "angel" from the fire and put it between two slices of rye bread. Our old standby, the sandwich, may be changed innumerable ways. Try mixing honey and peanut butter for a filling. And have you toasted sand-wiches on the end of a forked stick? They're delicious. Little sausages would be grand with the flapjacks and served with fresh fruit your meal would be complete. Fruit is a picnic food that, like weiners, never grows old. There i::; only one essential regarding food-have plenty of it! Never was there a really superb picnic where everybody didn't wear old clothes. If you didn't bring your last summer's culotte and slacks back with you from vacation, write home now, so you'll have them the first time you or any of the gang feel picnicky. Wearing an old twin sweater set and your heavy sport coat is a good idea for the first picnic of the spring when the snow is barely gone and there may be a storm tomorrow. There are very few Iowa State coeds who do not know that sports oxfords go most places well and that nothing is more out of place than dress shoes at a picnic. So, if you respect the feelings and patience of the rest of the gang, wear sensible shoes. If you're going on a gay, crazy party out in the woods, use a little ingenuity and hunt for some new games that will set the party going. Keep everyone busy, if at nothing else than gathering firewood. With your food and old clothes, be sure to take along your sense of humor. Things happen at picnics-things like ants in the food and scorched coffee-that require a little overlooking. Then too, you may have to tramp up rough hills for seeming miles to find a good shady spot. What if someone does splash muddy water on you or even push you in the creek. No man likes a poor sport. The old, trite adage about "laugh and the world laughs . . . " certainly can be taken on picnics to advantage. Nothing is more fun on a spring day than a picnic with your own special gang, all of them good sports, with plenty to eat and a good place in which to eat it. 11 

Mr. Eligible Bachelor Asserts, "Men Crave Real Food!"

https://lib.dr.iastate.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2843&amp;context=homemaker

Mr. Eligible Bachelor Asserts, Men Crave Real Food!

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