Betty Lives!

August 14, 2007

The Eating in Bed Cookbook

Barbara Ninde Byfield

1962

Truthfully, until today I was never one hundred percent sure that this was actually a cookbook and not a book of humor with funny drawings. The introduction talks about the “secret, wholesome indulgence to eating in bed which perhaps explains why it has not received the uniformly good press of other things which go on in bed and which are certainly no less an indulgence” and the whole book pretty much continues in this hilarious, slightly snarky, suggestive tone. The chapter headings are “Postures and Procedures”, “Conversationalists”, “Consolers”, “Just Because You Love Yourself”, “Reducing in Bed”, “Eating in the Bathtub”, and “Poleaxers”. The recipes themselves are minimalist and more about the titles such as Meat Bawls in the “Consolers” chapter and Instant Oblivion in “Poleaxers”. The drawings are beautiful and clever and done by Ms Byfield herself: various characters sprawled out on the sheets or in the tub, blissed out and content or a bit mischievous.

Doug often doesn’t get home until long after I’m asleep and as this was shaping up to be one of those sad and lonely nights, I decided to make myself an Onion Sandwich and then Prone Pleasure for dessert, both from the “Just Because You Love Yourself” chapter. I have to say that while I was prepping my bed tray I felt really giddy, at which point I had an epiphany that this was actually a cookbook. This was exciting and it did feel indulgent to be preparing food to eat alone in bed! Especially an onion sandwich which I knew would be fabulous to me but deadly to others. About the onion sandwich, Ms Byfield cautions: “You had jolly well better love yourself before eating onion sandwiches. Afterwards nobody else will.” Who cares? Doug won’t even be home until midnight! Because there are only a few ingredients I went top-of-the-line on all of them: Vidalia onion, French butter with fleur de sel, fresh bread, and crumbled thick-cut Berkshire bacon. The edges of the sandwich, once stuffed, are buttered again and then rolled in chopped parsley (which goes a long way to offsetting the effects of the onion according to Ms Byfield). As I write this I am smiling at the memory of that sandwich and the sheer joy of eating the crunchy, salty, buttery, creation leaning up against my pillows. It was insanely good.

To top it off I made A Prone Pleasure for dessert which is described as a delicacy “suitable for those moods of self-congratulation, self-indulgence, and self-celebration which come upon us all from time to time and for which there is so little adequate outlet in the ordinary rough-and-tumble of everyday life.” Husband not coming home all week? Check. Un-validated mother of two small children? Check. Self celebration sounds about right to me. In this case it came in the form of a bowl of whipped cream into which you fold a jar of apricot baby food (yes!) and then add a dash of lemon juice and orange flower water. Ms Byfield says to “garnish this bit of frippery with the crumbs of in the bottom of a nearly finished box of peanut brittle” but since I don’t have such a box, and I don’t like peanut brittle, I tossed some toasted slivered almonds on top instead. Fantastic! Could anything possibly be more luxurious than eating a bowl of sweet whipped cream and baby food in bed?

There aren’t too many recipes in this book which are super interesting, but when the winter rolls around and Doug hasn’t been home in a week, I am definitely digging it out again.