Sarah Marshall

They're beautiful place settings.

And it's like a stage managed kind of a thing.

Pardon me.

I'm having a Ritz cracker.

Let's find a recipe, but you got to make it.

I mean, I mean, maybe it's good.

I don't know.

It's supposed to be very good.

And I mean, the thing with these recipes, too, is I think that they wouldn't have caught on in the way that they did if they weren't good.

That's a good point, because people do still make it.

Maybe not to everyone's standards, but I mean, I want to make it.

Let me read to you a little bit from MFK Fisher's How to Cook a Wolf, which was published in 1942 originally and is about kind of this question of how do you how do you feed yourself and others when things are scarce, basically?

Yeah.

And she writes, this is an introduction when it was reissued in the 50s.

There are very few men and women, I suspect, who cooked and marketed their way through the past war without losing forever some of the nonchalant extravagance of the 20s.

They will feel until their final days on earth the kind of culinary caution.

Butter, no matter how unlimited, is a precious substance not lightly to be wasted.

Meats, too, and eggs and all the far-brought spices of the world take on a new significance having once been so rare.

And that is good, for there can be no more shameful carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself.

And I feel like that also brings up one of the merits of box cake mix, which is that it's shelf stable and it's often extremely cheap.