Illustrations by Anna Rose
American cooking in the 1960s holds a soft spot in my heart, shaped by nostalgia for French cooking and food from my youth. Like many baby-boomer families in the Maryland suburbs, we ate mostly at home, fed by a working mother who got dinner on the table by 6 p.m. sharp. Mom’s cooking was simple, economical, and inspired by convenience. We ate meat loaf, glazed ham, macaroni, and canned peas.
Dining out, on the other hand, celebrated special occasions with food we seldom ate at home. At mid-century American steakhouses, my sisters and I unfolded cloth napkins and studied heavy padded menus with exotic French names like escargot and Chateaubriand, a romantic dish for two that I longed to order. Always, we shared shrimp cocktail, chilled on a bed of ice and served with lemon slices and cocktail sauce.
When I started dating, I continued to take cooking cues from Julia Child’s The French Chef, perfecting beef Bourguignon and chocolate mousse for the men I hoped to impress. Later, I moved on to Cornish hens stuffed with wild rice. A single small hen in the center of each dinner plate seemed, at the time, elegant and sophisticated.
These days, my husband cooks Cornish hens on our backyard Weber, and my bourguignon has evolved into a fragrant stove-top version with fresh ginger and thyme. But to this day, the appeal of mid-century dishes lingers, especially in December when holiday memories rev up my attachment. Some dishes are difficult to find in Memphis, like iconic Baked Alaska, served earlier this year at Acre. Some appetizers I still make at home — cheese straws and stuffed celery sticks topped with green olives. And still other dishes I discover dining out, either updated or made from original recipes. Here are some of my favorites to try.
Steak Tartare at the Capital Grille
Famed French chef Auguste Escoffier is credited with the steak tartare recipe that eventually ricocheted into 1960s restaurant history: raw cubes of beef with no sinew seasoned with salt and pepper, capers, chopped onion, parsley, and an egg yolk, also raw, served on toast. By the 1990s, more modern chefs reembraced tartare made with tuna instead of tenderloin. Happily, the Capital Grille stuck with inspiration from the original, but its three-layer stack is less scary. Yes, there are onions, and the chopped filet mignon is still raw. But hard-boiled egg subs for raw yolk, and on the side, grilled sourdough slices and a pickled deviled egg liven up the plate.
(6065 Poplar Ave., 901-683-9291)
“Mermaid” Salad at The Cove
Snappy iceberg salad topped with bacon, tomatoes, and blue cheese starred at mid-century restaurants nationwide, including the former Anderton’s, where a 1960s menu offered “Iceberg Lettuce Hearts with Roquefort Dressing” for 50 cents. These days, iceberg salads are a popular retool, but my favorite is The Cove’s “Mermaid” topped with diced pimentos and served with two dressings: traditional blue cheese and a bright garlic lemon vinaigrette. True to its roots, a glistening iceberg wedge anchors the plate with panache, much like The Cove’s kitschy nautical paintings and pirate ship bar reclaimed from Anderton’s before the building’s demolition.
(2559 Broad Ave., 901-730-0819)
Coq au Vin at Joes’ Restaurant
At Joes’ on Highland, order fried chicken — two pieces, white meat or dark — and garlic butter chicken thighs served with Jasmine rice. But by all means, don’t miss the restaurant’s Coq au Vin, a humble but delicious dish popularized in America by Julia Child’s The Art of French Cooking. Translated as “rooster in wine,” the quintessential French stew begins with chicken on the bone browned in onion and garlic and braised with mushrooms, bacon, and wine, typically burgundy. “Things come and go, but these simple dishes like Coq au Vin were stars for good reason,” says chef/owner Joe Spotts. “They were spectacular.”
(262 Highland St., 901-337-7003)
Brandy Alexander at Restaurant Iris
After repeated customer accolades, former general manager Jeff Frisbee convinced Chef Kelly English to give his sweet and creamy cocktail a permanent place on the Restaurant Iris menu. We are glad he did. More dessert than drink, the restaurant’s Brandy Alexander is a blended mix of brandy, vanilla ice cream, and Creme de Cacao served in a champagne coupe. Cold and a little frothy, the cocktail transports English back to the Community Grill in New Orleans, where as a child he relished milkshake-like mocha freezes. “Desserts should remind people of a time when they were happy,” English says. “And who didn’t love a milkshake growing up?”
(2146 Monroe Ave., 901-590-2828)
Green Goddess Dressing at Grove Grill
In 1923, San Francisco’s Palace Hotel featured Green Goddess dressing to honor English actor George Arliss, who starred in the play by the same name. Over subsequent decades, cookbooks included recipes, but it was the bottled version from Seven Seas that put the salad dressing on dinner tables across America. An exotic cousin to the era’s ubiquitous Thousand Island, the dressing’s minty green hue came from anchovies, tarragon, parsley, and chives. In Memphis, chefs are rediscovering the lovely lady’s charm both as a dressing and a dip. For instance, at Grove Grill, the Goddess dresses baby greens for a weekend fried chicken special, and shows up as a featured salad at lunch.
(4550 Poplar Ave., 901-818-9951)
Frozen fruit Salad at Mortimer’s Restaurant
The late Vernon Mortimer Bell opened the East Memphis Knickerbocker in 1955, and many of the landmark restaurant’s recipes live on at nearby Mortimer’s, the family’s follow-up restaurant. Today’s menu is studded with classics like stuffed flounder and trout amandine. But on a tip from Michael Donahue, a Mortimer’s regular, I order Frozen Fruit Salad, a dessert perfected over decades by cook Evalina Edwards. “She starts with egg custard, adds pineapple juice and marshmallows, and chills it overnight,” explains Bell’s grandson, Christopher Jamieson. The next day, Edwards folds in crushed pineapple and fruit cocktail and freezes the mixture in scoops. Plated as dessert with chicken salad, the glorious concoction then gets a pale pink kiss: cream cheese sauce colored by juice from maraschino cherries.
(590 N. Perkins Rd., 901-761-9321)
Old School Salmon Patties at Brooks Pharm2Fork
Chef Mac Edwards credits his brother for remembering their mother’s salmon patty recipe, a menu mainstay from The Farmer, his former restaurant, now served at his Collierville Pharm2Fork. “Mom made hers with canned salmon, but we use fresh salmon roasted with salt, pepper, and sage,” Edwards explains. Flaked into a bowl and combined with eggs and flour, the salmon is hand-shaped into 3-ounce patties, zig-zagged with Creole remoulade, and served two on a plate with braised greens and a creamy side of mac ‘n cheese. “Sixty-somethings don’t just order the patties for nostalgia,” Edwards says. “They are really good, and young people order them, too.”
(120 E. Mulberry St. in Collierville, 901-853-7511)
