Quotes from The Virago Book of Food: The Joy of Eating
I have only made carrot-and-raisin salad once, the day it was taught to me in seventh grade, but the memory of those bright orange shreds specked with raisins and clotted with mayonnaise has been unaccountably hard to shake. It's easy to understand why the recipe appealed to the teacher - carrots made it nutritious, raisins made it sweet, and mayonnaise made it a salad - but I can't explain why a combination I never hoped to eat again was able to lodge itself so firmly into the apparatus of my adolescence. Perhaps those endless Wednesday-afternoon classes, known by 1958 as 'Homemaking', had a grip on us that we hardly suspected at the time, codifying as they did a grim and witless set of expectations that loomed across the future like a ten commandments for girls. Eerily enough, this course, which purported to be about the real world, had nothing whatever to do with anything that happened in my home or that I had ever seen happen anywhere else. Why were they claiming life was like this? Who on earth wore pink cotton 'hostess aprons' or, worse yet, had to sew them?
Perfection Salad: Women and Cooking at the Turn of the Century