I hope you will indulge me as I venture into one more Obsolete Collection - this time the Food Division. You can find the first Obsolete Collection here; and the Retail Division here.
For the Food Division, I've chosen both the foods themselves and the means of delivery. Let me illustrate by moving on to the first category.
The Cafeteria
Oh, I'm sure that cafeterias still exist; there's possibly one in your local junior high school. But their popularity has declined.
For those not versed in cafeteria culture, let me explain that in each such establishment, you pick up a heavy plastic tray and push it along a set of rails that unites all the food stations and ends with the cashier. You help yourself to a prepared delight such as pudding, and at certain points you ask the attendant for an entree - say, mashed potatoes and meat loaf.
These places did have a sort of plebeian atmosphere, so they have fallen from favor with many people. For example, the art museum near where I live once had an excellent cafeteria, which they have now changed into a fancy restaurant and a lunch spot where you have to move among disconnected stations to find what you want. It doesn't work well, but then again - it's not a cafeteria! (Well, yeah, it is - only atomized.)
To memorialize this once-proud institution, we hear from Cal Stewart and his hayseed character Uncle Josh, via "Uncle Josh in a Cafeteria." Previously Josh visited a big city department store; this time he takes the train from his New England home to New York to visit a cafeteria - a questionable enterprise to be sure. The record is from 1919.
The Hot Dog Stand
In this section, I intend to honor specifically the hot dog stand, not the hot dog carts that clutter up urban sidewalks. (For all I know there are hot dog carts on the moon.) These stands were small buildings where you could get a dog, perhaps a burger, and something to drink. I can't remember the last time I saw such a place, although ice cream stands still abound.
Hot dog stands and the wiener itself have been celebrated in song for some time. Back in 1939, there was a popular number called "At a Little Hot Dog Stand," where of course two hearts met to enjoy an encasement of processed meats and fillers. The song was recorded by several artists, but today we have Dick Todd, the "Canadian Bing" complete with Crosby's mid-period mannerisms, in a charming rendition of the Sam Coslow-Larry Spier tune. Todd finishes by inviting the listener to his wedding celebration - at the hot dog stand. Big spender!
There are also songs honoring the frankfurter itself, so I've included a few of them. First we have Chris Powell and the Five Blue Flames in a 1949 record of "Hot Dog," in which they declare their affinity for this sausage, which to their taste has to be accompanied by a cola. A good record, but I wish they would have revoked that man's tenor saxophone.
Finally, a terrific 1935 disc from Texas' Roy Newman and His Boys called the "Hot Dog Stomp." It's advertised on the label as "Hot Dance" music, and so it is. The group is a string band with guitar, clarinet, fiddles and all the trimmings.
The Diner
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| A giant "EAT" sign is the universal insignia of fine dining |
Diners are still around, but few are the type that I am describing here. Like Chicago's Burlington Diner above, these were marooned old streetcars or Pullmans that were converted for the food trade. The interior presented a lineup of stools at a long counter. On the other side of the counter were the attendants and food apparatus.
Such diners often appeared in movies. The one that comes to mind is the Owl Diner in the
Goldwyn Follies of 1938, with short-order cook Kenny Baker serenading Andrea Leeds via the Gershwins' "Love Walked In." You can see the clip
here.
We have two songs today that are set in a diner. First is "Dinky's Little Diner" from 1946, with ex-Harry James vocalist Connie Haines. She was an expressive singer, but her diction isn't so good, so you may have a hard time following her. I did learn that Dinky fashioned his diner out of an old caboose.
You'll have less trouble following Harriet Clark as she tells her tale of finding love "At a Dixie Roadside Diner," which songwriters Edgar Leslie and Joe Burke located in Carolina because it rhymes with "diner," sort of. Harriet was the vocalist with the Charlie Barnet band. This comes from 1940.
The Automat
These days - and even back then - most people who are familiar with the Automat were exposed to it not in person but as a movie setting - such as Doris Day and Audrey Meadows carrying on a conversation through the Automat's windows in 1962's That Touch of Mink.
Let me explain. In the Automat, rather than having the food handed to you cafeteria-style, you would be confronted by what seemed like hundreds of small windows, each offering a delicacy (or some such). You plugged coins into a slot so as to unlock the window of your choice. An attendant would then refill the station.
It's the sort of thing that appealed to me in my youth, so I did eat at one. I don't remember the food but I do remember reading a book I had just purchased from Scribner's, a gorgeous store on Fifth Avenue. So the Automat had to be around there somewhere.
Anyway, in New York the Automat was also referred to as "Horn & Hardart," its proprietor (see photo at top of section). The format was invented in Germany, I believe.
In 1965, musical satirist Peter Schickele decided to immortalize the chain with his "Concerto for Horn and Hardart," which married the solo horn with his own semi-musical invention, the "Hardart." This instrument was essentially a baroque Automat, where you plugged in your nickel and received a toy instrument that then would become part of the musical proceedings.
Schickele (in his persona of P.D.Q. Bach) started out by performing send-ups of 18th century music. The audience for this live performance sure seemed to enjoy it - you may as well. I've included an edited version of Schickele's introduction followed by the opening Allegro movement. This is from his first LP, from 1965.
Thanks to my friend Ernie for suggesting the Automat as a subject!
The Bakery
Where I live, the shops that call themselves "bakeries" sell fancy cupcakes, fancy bundt cakes or fancy macarons. They ain't nothing like the old Indianapolis shop you see above. For that, you go to a supermarket, but it isn't the same. Instead of the uniformed attendants you see above, you get a adolescent in a cat t-shirt and ripped jeans.
There aren't a whole lot of songs about bakeries, but the young Jo Stafford did record "Bakery Blues" with her "V-Disc Play Boys" back in 1945. The bakery is an elaborate metaphor concocted by writer George Simon, and Jo presents the tale smoothly. She did have a tendency to croon, though, which is not exactly idiomatic to the blues, or to the style of her "Play Boys," some of the finest traditional jazz musicians then active.
The Ice Cream Man
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| "Look like you're enjoying it. The photographer's paying." |
He used to crawl down the street in a white truck, tinkling a bell or playing a jingle. He had to go slow to get the kiddies a chance to cadge money from mom or pop. He was selling ice cream along with popsicles and a few other delicacies.
The ice cream man was a beloved character with the young ones, if not mom or dad. After all, children are price-insensitive, so he almost could charge whatever he wanted.
This stealthy purveyor of treats has been the focus of a few songs. Today's selection is the highly enjoyable
"Ivan, the Ice Cream Man" from the Kidoodlers, dating from 1939. Yes, this is a kids' record, but the Kidoodlers were a sophisticated novelty group that sang and played toy instruments, somewhat in the mode of
the Foursome with their ocarinas. The whole record is great fun.
Ice cream is and was primarily sold as a packaged good, and in the days before snob brands, one of the major players was Sealtest, first as a franchiser and later as an operator of a chain of dairies. One of Sealtest's mainstays was ice cream, until that business was acquired by Good Humor-Breyers, which discontinued the Sealtest ice cream business five years ago.
But back at mid-century, Sealtest was busily producing promo records, including the "Sealtest Ice Cream Polka," with jingle specialists the Lande Trio, Julie Conway and "Johnny Cole's Music." It sounds like lots of other polkas, but you could make that statement about lots of other polkas.
Finally, the original version of "I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream," from 1927. This odd tune takes you to the land of the Eskimos, as they were then known, and introduces you to a football team whose fight song is "I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream." Paul Johnson is your guide to this strange land. Warning: ethnic stereotypes ahead!
Leg of Mutton
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| "Guess what we're having for dinner!" "That better be pot roast!" |
And now we move on to some foods that have lost at least some of their market. (Actually, these are all foods that I roundly dislike, so I may be trying to hasten some of them off the market altogether.)
Mutton leg is definitely hard to find. Anyone who has had mutton can explain why - it tastes gamy. Mutton comes from older sheep; the more tender veal from the younger ones. At one time mutton was more widely available, when wool production was higher in the US, and thus there were more sheep.
As you might imagine, there are few songs that mention this meat, but I did find one called "Mutton Leg" from tenor saxophonist Illinois Jacquet and band, from 1947. The riff tune is by Count Basie and trumpeter Harry Edison, but the name is in honor of trombonist Ted Donnelly, whose nickname it was. Jacquet plays the piece as fast as possible without running out of the grooves. I enjoyed the solos by baritone saxophonist Leo Parker and the young J.J. Johnson on trombone.
Liver
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| "Woof - liver!" |
In my view, liver is only suited for dogs. Trouble was that my mom would cook it up - for the dog AND her.
Liver is apparently a great favorite with the canines (and some people), although my mother's pooch actually preferred boiled kidneys. I learned early to stay out of the kitchen when the fire was under the kidney pot. A more disgusting smell is hard to imagine.
There actually was a song about liver (if not boiled kidneys), and predictably it involved a dog. "Jump, Fritz, I Feed You Liver" was recorded in 1924 by Billy Jones and Ernest Hare under their own names for Columbia and OKeh, and as the Happiness Boys for Victor. I've chosen a competing version from the English label ACO by the Webster Brothers, who have particularly ripe falsches Deutsch accents. Warning! Ethnic stereotypes ahead (and liver)!
Bologna
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| Swift had it all going on in 1956 - sausage, hot dogs, bacon and bologna |
When I was young, there were few things I detested more than bologna (invariably pronounced "baloney" around here), unless it were its processed meat cousins Dutch loaf and chopped ham. My sense is that bologna's popularity is on the wane, although that may be wishful thinking.
Bologna was popular enough in 1930 to inspire "The Bologna Song," which is in the nature of an elaborate ethnic joke with the Flanagan Brothers getting the best of their companion - a "Hebrew," as they identify him. Warning - ethnic stereotypes ahead!
Buttermilk
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| Not even a famous cow could get me to try buttermilk |
I'm sure there are people who like buttermilk, but by gosh, I'm not one of them. I don't think it's as popular as once upon a time, and may be even less so after I explain to you that it is fermented milk. The thought of it makes me sweat like Elmer the cow above.
Surprisingly, I found two songs with "buttermilk" in their titles. Let's start off with the better-known tune, "Ole Buttermilk Sky," written by Hoagy Carmichael and Jack Brooks for Hoagy to sing in the 1947 film Canyon Passage. There were several popular versions of this song, but I've selected the one by its composer. The piece was nominated for an Academy Award, but lost out to Judy Garland and "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe." Judy on the rails was tough to beat.
I never figured out what "buttermilk sky" refers to, so I asked the great god AI for enlightenment. "The small, puffy white clouds that make up a buttermilk sky are often said to resemble a pattern of clabbered milk." OK, so what is clabbered milk? "Clabbered milk is a type of cultured milk product that's made by letting unpasteurized milk thicken and sour through fermentation." You can have it.
The second song is something of a bonus - a lively tune called "Buttermilk Polka" by Chet Ososki and his Blue Diamond Orchestra. A pleasant diversion probably from somewhere in the 1950s.
Pigeon
I was looking at a fancy restaurant menu from the 1850s, and was surprised to find pigeon on the bill of fare. Perhaps I shouldn't have been. Back then, passenger pigeons were so numerous that in some places the flocks blotted out the sun. They were so easy to kill that all a hunter had to do is shoot at the flock and be sure of hitting something. The passenger pigeon was extinct by 1914.
As you might expect, few if any songs survive extolling the pigeon, so I have resorted to using a song called "Bayou Pigeon," which is not a song about a bird in the swampland, rather about a small, unincorporated place on the bayou in Louisiana. It comes from Lou Millet, a Baton Rouge musician who ran Lefty Frizzell's band for several years. Lefty probably got Lou a Columbia contract, thus this very accomplished record.
These selections all come from Internet Archive, as fermented by me. The sound is by and large very good.
