They’re Stealing Our Black Essence
Meanwhile, in the world of deep thoughts and scholarly devotion:
A new video has surfaced of students this past week at Evergreen State College yelling and ranting about everything from “racist white teachers” and “white-ass administrators” to “black power!” during a so-called “meeting” with President George Bridges and other college administrators. Apparently, the activists are not pleased that this recording made its way to the internet at large. One of the demands listed by Evergreen students… is that something be done to resolve the “theft” of the video: “We demand that the video created for Day of Absence and Day of Presence that was stolen by white supremacists and edited to expose and ridicule the students and staff be taken down by the administration by this Friday.”
I have my mom’s 1952 Good Housekeeping Cookbook. It has all sorts of straightforward information: a whole chapter listing what to do with leftovers, a chapter on garnishes, a chapter on cooking for one, a chapter on cooking for two, a chapter on pressure cooking ( the crockpot hadn’t come along yet), a chapter on marketing. There’s a very useful chapter on how best to carve various meats and fowl at the table, called (quelle horreur!) “When He Carves.”
When you use this book you are saddened by what’s been lost. There are recipes involving raw eggs, which are no longer safe to consume in the U.S., and paragraphs assuring the reader than any meat with a U.S. Department of Agriculture stamp has been inspected by same and is safe to eat. This was true in 1952 but isn’t now. Now the meat packer inspects his own meat and reports the results to USDA. That’s much more efficient, you see.
I had “Little Black Sambo” too, and don’t recall much about it, but I am quite sure it took place in India, not Africa? His parents who sent him on the errand, whatever it was, were Mumbo and Jumbo, and after the tigers chased each other round the tree until they turned into butter, the family happily chowed down on pancakes. So Sambo outwits the tigers–the Indian tigers–and everybody lives happily ever after. I don’t understand why this is considered insulting to persons of black African ancestry. Shrug.
@Darleen
My dad worked a year for the Military Industrial Complex in L.A. during the mid-’60s. Sambo’s was our go-to post-church restaurant for Sunday lunch. I think the one we patronized was on Brookhurst(?) in Anaheim.