Saturday, November 26, 2011

ONWARD, UPWARD

Magical Hystory Tour: The Origins of the Commonplace and the Curious has changed its name and its url, too.

Continue to follow Another Side: American History Revisited at barrydenenberg.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

SPELLING BEES


Sewing, spinning, quilting, husking, apple and logging bees have been around since the colonies were, well, colonies. Predominantly female centered activities, they afforded the women a chance to get together and socialize. They weren’t only social, however: “In the 1760s spinning bees became more political as they were held to protest the importation of British goods, which were now being more heavily taxed” (see BOYCOTT). The ‘bee’ in spelling bee did not appear in print until the mid-nineteenth century but was almost certainly used orally decades before.

Quilting Bee, Northern
Blvd., Queens, Courtesy of
the New York Public
Library, www.nypl.org
Recent etymological scholarship has its doubts about the long held theory that the ‘bee’ in ‘spelling bee’ is a reference to the insect, a linguistic leap attributed to the “obvious similarity between these human gatherings [sewing, spinning…logging bees] and the industrious, social nature of the beehive,” a place where queens rule, drones drone, guards guard and the riffraff flit about all day bringing home the bacon, or in their case pollen, the location of which is communicated with a nice dance: the round dance, if it’s close by, or if “it’s complicated,” the waggle dance to express the distance and direction in relationship to the sun. Female frequent flyers can log up to two miles day, and the queen, of course, concentrates on laying eggs (up to 2,000 per diem, talk about a full-time job) and killing competitors (an activity familiar to all high school girls).

Honey Bee with Pollen,
The question is: If an association between the insect and these colonial bees isn’t the root of ‘bee’ in ‘spelling bee,’ what is?

The answer is elusive. According to the Scripps National Spelling Bee Bee Week Guide: “One possibility is that is comes from the Middle English word bene, which means ‘a prayer’ or ‘a favor.’ In England, a dialect form of this word, been or bean, referred to ‘voluntary help given by neighbors toward the accomplishment of a particular task…’ Bee may simply be a shortened form of been but no one is entirely certain.”

Deborah Read Franklin,
Common-Law Wife of
Benjamin Franklin,
What is certain, or almost certain, is that spelling bees began in the Northeast (New England and New York) and flourished alongside a mounting concern for language and literacy. Fearing that the country would splinter into separate linguistic enclaves, Benjamin Franklin, “...the Father of Purism in American English,” took action. He broached the idea of public speaking contests (complete with prizes) and in 1768, presented an iffy scheme for a new alphabet (with six new letters) in his A Reformed Mode of Spelling. According to Bill Bryson:  “ ...it is not clear whether he regarded his modified alphabet as a serious attempt at orthographic reform or merely as an amusing way of writing mildly flirtatious letters to a pretty young correspondent.” Frankly, we don’t know what to think.

Noah Webster, a puritanical Connecticut lawyer/teacher who believed that someday “North America [would] be Peopled with a hundred millions of men, all speaking the same language,” carried forth this patriotic quest for “one tongue.”  Webster’s American Dictionary of the English Language was quite influential, and his American Spelling Book a.k.a. the ‘blue-backed speller’)  “...went through so many editions and sold so many copies that historians appear to have lost track.” Priced at 14 cents, it “flew off the shelves.” Colonists snapped up somewhere between 60 and 80 million copies in his lifetime, making it the second best selling book in American history. (Of course, this was at a time when literacy was something Americans were concerned about.) Webster, who toured constantly preaching what he practiced, put it matter-of-factly: “Our honor requires us to have a system of our own, in language as well as government.”


The 1908 Play that Popularized
the Image of America as a Melting Pot,
http://en.wikipedia.org

America seemed to agree. Public contests as well as contests in the classroom (the loser swept the schoolroom and lit the fire in the morning, motivation enough during the winter months) spread, flourished and soon could be held up as proof that good spelling, and therefore, literacy, and therefore, stature in the community were not a function of caste or class but diligence.

Man with a Microchip,
http://www.flickr.com
In some small towns, spelling matches, held once a week, evolved into a form of entertainment for the entire community with most decked out in their Sunday best. (No one, of course, really had anything to do outside of chores and childbirth in those pre-transistor/microchip days.) New Englanders, always on the cutting edge, began to get bored with bees and moved on to other more sophisticated group activities, like spin-the-bottle. (Footnote: We were unable to track the origins of spin-the-bottle but can report that it thrives as we speak, and that, yes, there is an iPhone app for it.)  

Spelling matches, unlike almost everything else, blossomed on the postbellum Western frontier (even in mining camps). In fact, they became a principal learning exercise in schools taught by many of those same New England teachers. 

The Midwest, by the way, may not have caught on to spin the bottle as soon as New England, but come husking time, some comparable extracurricular activity was clearly going on

Red Ears, Courtesy of Chiot's
Run, http://www.flickr.com
“It was wonderful how many red ears of corn there were in the husking, and how many red ears of another sort there were after the kissing. ’Twas the wee sma’(ll) hours of the morning when the husking bee broke up, and no telling how many sweet secrets were told that get the hearts of the lads and lassies to tingling as they wended their way home through the cool twilight.”

Extracurricular activities aside, a decade after the Civil War, folks were beginning to worry about spelling practices (with good reason; just read some of the letters and diaries of the day). Spelling reform appeared to be on nearly everyone’s agenda; everyone including Mark Twain, an advocate of simplified spelling, who penned his own A Simplified Alphabet (and simplified writing—a big fan of shorthand early on, he was the first author to write a book, Life on the Mississippi, with a “typemachine as he insisted on calling it”). Speaking in Hartford, Connecticut (where he lived) to students vying for the 1875 title, Twain, with tongue planted (as always) firmly in cheek, had this to say on the subject: 

“…I don’t see any use in spelling a word right, and never did. I mean I don’t see any use in having a uniform and arbitrary way of spelling words. We might as well make all clothes fit alike and cook all dishes alike. Sameness is tiresome, variety is pleasing” (see FAST FOODS).


Mark Twain, Courtesy of Prints and Photographs
Division, Library of Congress, USZ62-127284 

The same year that Twain spoke in Hartford, the first public spelling contest in New York City history took place at the Cooper Institute, where, fifteen years earlier, Abraham Lincoln, had jump-started his bid for the presidency. Things didn’t go well as the subhead revealed: AMUSING SCENE IN COOPER INSTITUTE LAST EVENING. It seems the contest was not organized or conducted properly, any number of issues arose, and the audience became “quite disputatory.” (The matches, especially, it seems, in the “old days,” were rather interactive.) Plus, audiences apparently were on the rise. Four thousand Philadelphians turned out for a contest, where a controversy erupted over the word ‘reseat,’ or was it, upon further hearing, ‘receipt’? 

Ralph Waldo Emerson,
http://en.wikipedia.org
By the turn of the century, spelling bees were in vogue in New York and New England again. Theater-going was, in some circles, considered improper, and you could only take so many of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s lectures. (In his own words, “A great soul will be strong to live as well as think.”) Besides, the admission price was right. Bees were cheap to produce—the game shows of their day—and thought to be “intellectual.”

Some matches would begin in the early evening and last till after midnight. Some got physical: In 1877, Nellie Wilson and Rosie McGrath fought each other in an out-and-out wrestling match. (Nellie ended up doing time.) In 1906, a thousand watched EIGHTEEN CONTESTANTS SPELL FOR TWO HOURS WITHOUT MISTAKE. In years to come, some contestants fainted.

If the language of the day reflected the culture, as in this 1908 headline: COLORED GIRL WINS SPELLING BEE, the language of Mary Bolden, the fourteen-year-old Cleveland girl referred to in the headline, you might say, reflected times gone by: “I didn’t enter the contest for personal glory, but to try and honor my school.”

Charleston at the Capitol,
Courtesy of Prints and 
Division, Library of
Congress, Photographs
A 1922 New York Times article observed: 

“In the long ago, when life was simple and milk was 4 cents a quart, social gatherings were frequent among neighbors who competed for honors in spelling…Certainly the indoor sport of spelling bees, so popular in the days when the schoolhouses were painted red, is worth reviving—as an antidote to jazz and frivolity.”

Sixty-one years later, Andrew Flosdorf, a thirteen-year-old, who would come to be known for his sportsmanship, if not his spelling, told the judges he’d received credit for a word that he’d, in fact, misspelled. (He had put an ‘e’ instead of an ‘a’ in ‘echolalia.’) The judges went to the tapes, and sure enough, he was right. During the flurry of interviews that followed the thirteen-year-old said that he “didn’t want to feel like a slime” and, besides, “the first rule of scouting is honesty.”



*            *            *            *

  

In 1913, President Woodrow Wilson and his suffragette daughter, Jessie, attended a spelling match that pitted congressmen against journalists. Thirteen years later, Coolidge posed with several bee finalists. Politicians were now involved, and you know what that means: whining. In a post-game locker room interview after the second Congress v Media clash in 1930, the runner-up—a Representative accustomed to scapegoating, no doubt—attributed his loss to his reliance on such modern conveniences as secretaries and typists. 

 President Eisenhower reminisced with one winner about losing a bee as a boy. Others had the dubious honor of a meet-and-greet with FBI head J. Edgar Hoover.


Calvin Coolidge with the Finalists in the National Spelling Bee,
Courtesy of Prints and Photographs Division, Library of
Congress, USZ62-111740

Speaking of politicians, how ’bout that Ronald Reagan and his 1983 photo-op (see PHOTO-OP) with the National Spelling Bee Finalists and the resultant headline: REAGAN REITERATES HIS DESIRE TO ELIMINATE EDUCATION DEPT. “There is too much federal government in education,” President Reagan offered shortly before eliminating all education from education with his “every child left behind” policy.

Official Portrait of Prez
Reagan and Veep Bush,
1981, http://en.wikipedia.org
Bush the Elder, who believed that all good policy rhymes, e.g. his “Weed and Seed” education program, picked up where Reagan left off. In 1992, he sent his veep Dan “You’re no John Kennedy” Quayle to Trenton, New Jersey as part of a campaign to build support for his education initiative. Quayle-with-a-y sat in on a spelling bee between about twenty-five students. One of the sixth-grade boys wrote ‘potato’ on the blackboard, and the Vice-President incorrectly corrected the boy, pointing out that he had forgotten the “e” at the end. The incident became national news (natch) and a week’s worth of content on Late Night TV.

A local newspaper reported the boy’s views on the incident: “[It] showed the rumors are true—that he’s an idiot.”

As we’ve seen, newspapers gave spelling bees extensive coverage. In 1925, The Scripps National Spelling Bee was established, and by 1934, CBC was broadcasting the event coast-to-coast. Four years later, NBC transmitted the Harvard/Radcliffe v Oxford contest: AMERICAN SPELLERS BEAT BRITISH IN THEIR FIRST TRANSATLANTIC BEE.

Ed Sullivan & Two Beatles,
http://www.flickr.com
The end of the 1950s brought the Scripps National champ to the hugely (inexplicably) popular “Ed Sullivan Show.” Even so, TV execs were slow to see the “wisdom” (read profits) in this low budget (for them) programming. Finally, in 1994, ESPN, only just beginning to redefine the word ‘sport’ (as in  moneyball), began televising the final rounds (with contestants now required to follow the dreaded face time dress codes; bee shirt, some felt that some were competing in less than “telegenic” attire). In 2002, the Academy nominated “Spellbound,” which made Angela, Nupur, Ted, Emily, Ashley, Neil, April and Harry familiar faces, for Best Documentary. “TWO THUMBS UP!” blurbed Ebert and Roeper. Four years later, network television brought the National Spelling Bee to over nine million viewers. Today, it’s streamed live on the Internet.

The Bee has its fair share of eligibility rules and regs (e.g. you have to be a student of an officially enrolled school, who hasn’t yet turned fifteen and who has won a local final, and you can’t be a past winner of the national championship) spelled out in twelve bulleted requirements, eight being: “The speller must not bypass or circumvent normal school activity to study for spelling bees.” 


84th Scripps Spelling Bee Top Finishers,
By ScrippsBee, http://www.flickr.com

As if to prove the enforcement of this requirement: Some of the spellers appeared in a feature called “Part-time Spellers, Full-time Kids.” One was the winner of a UNICEF greeting card competition, another was a survivor of Katrina and a third sang in a local rest home. Others lent a hand at a local horse rescue ranch and planned to go to Tanzania to volunteer at orphanage for children whose parents had died of AIDS.

Mick Jagger & Keith Richards Not
Necessarily Singing "Loving Cup,"
http://en.wikipedia.org
Each year brings more and more contestants, as diverse as the words they spell, which have become harder and more international. A disproportionate number of the winners are home schooled—a fact with debatable implications. Three ties have occurred to date. (Finalists seemed to refuse to misspell and exhausted the available word list, if not themselves.) Many contestants are repeaters: kids who have competed in The National Bee two, three, four or even five times before. The winner gets nearly 30,000 in cash and an engraved loving cup (plus a Nook eReader). Past winners have, almost exactly, been half boys and half girls.

Sukanya Roy,
In 2011, a Pennsylvania girl, Sukanya Roy emerged victorious after twenty rounds that saw 274 other contestants eliminated. Tracing the letters in the palm of her hand as she spoke, Ms. Roy spelled ‘cymotrichous’ correctly. As far as articulating how she felt, the eighth grader had this to say: “It’s hard to put into words.”

Speaking of which, here are the winning words over the last five years: ‘stromuhr,’ ‘Laodicean,’ ‘guerdon,’ ‘serrefine’ and ‘Ursprache.’ ‘Ursprache’ is “a hypothetically reconstructed parent language.”


Bibliography

“Scripps National Spelling Bee,” Bee Week Guide, 2008
“American Spellers Beat British in Their First Transatlantic Bee,” the New York Times, Jan. 31, 1938
Boorstin, Daniel J.; The Americans: The Colonial Experience
Brinkley, Alan; The Unfinished Nation: A Concise History of the American Nation
Bryson, Bill; Made in America
—————; Mother Tongue
“Colored Girl Wins Big Spelling Bee,” Special to the New York Times, Jun. 30, 1908
“Congress Humbled in Spelling Bee,” Special to the New York Times, Mar. 30, 1930
Denenberg, Barry; Lincoln Shot: A President’s Life Remembered
Emerson, Ralph Waldo; “The American Scholar,” http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/emerson/essays/amscholar.html
“Gothamites Spell, But Not in Calico,” New York Times, Jun. 2, 1908
Maguire, James; American Bee: The National Spelling Bee and the Culture of Word Nerds
McCrum, Robert; The Story of English
“Misspeller Is a Spelling Bee Hero,” New York Times, Jun. 9, 1983
Nieves, Evelyn; Spelling by Quayle (That’s with an ‘e’), Special to the New York Times, Jun. 17, 1992
The Random House College Dictionary
Read, Alan Walker; “The Spelling bee: A Linguistic Institution of the American Folk,” Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, ed. Percy Waldron Long, v. LVI, 1941, 495–512
Randall, Emilius Oviatt and Daniel Joseph Ryan; Ohio: The Rise and Progress of the American State, v. 3, 1912
“Reagan Reiterates His Desire to Eliminate Education Dept.,” the New York Times, Jun. 7, 1983
“Spellbound”; DVD, Sony Pictures
Stoddart, Alexander; “Spelling Bee Coming Back,” the New York Times, Feb. 12 1922


“In the 1760s,…”; www.garrisonhouse.org/spinningbee
“...obvious similarity…”; the Scripps National Spelling Bee Bee Week Guide, 6
“One possibility…”; Ibid
“…the Father of…”; Boorstin, 278
“…it is not…”; Bryson, Made in America, 53
“North America….”; Boorstin, 271
“…went through…”; Bryson, Mother Tongue, 155
“Our honor….”; Bryson, Made in America, 76
“It was wonderful….”; Randall, 20
“…typemachine…”; Bryson, Made in America, 94
 “…I don’t see…”; Read, 507
“A great soul….”; Emerson, 1
“I didn’t enter….”; Special to the New York Times, “Colored Girl...,” 7
“In the long ago,…”; Stoddart, 77
“…didn’t want to…”; New York Times, “Misspeller Is a…,” A14
“…the first rule…”; Ibid
“There is too….”; New York Times, “Reagan Reiterates...,” A19
“[It] showed….”; Nieves, a23
“Two thumbs…”; Spellbound DVD Sony Pictures
“The speller….”; Bee Week Guide, 7
“…a hypothetically…”; The Random House College Dictionary, 1447

Friday, September 23, 2011

FAST FOOD


At first, it wasn’t ‘fast food.’ It was ‘fast food service,’ as in Fountain and Fast Food Service (the name of a big trade mag in the fifties). Gradually, the word ‘service’ fell out of style (etymologically), and as early as 1954, you could find ‘fast food’ alone, as in Fountain and Fast Food. Seven years later, the mag’s execs took the gloves off and renamed it Fast Food.

But, as the saying goes, that was then.
  
This is now: Americans spend over $150 billion dollars on fast food a year—65% of the worldwide total. The top ten fast food chains have redefined ubiquity with over 80,000 locations in the United States and close to double that figure, globally. Carbonated soft drink advertising budgets are astronomical, and as their sales expand exponentially so does the American waistline.

We’ve supersized ourselves, and theres no end in sight.

According to John Seabrook writing in The New Yorker, “By the nineteen-nineties, obesity reached epidemic proportions.” In some states three out of five adults are overweight. Our children are in even worse shape: Childhood obesity has tripled since 1980. Tripled. Diabetes is now the seventh leading cause of death in this country, and giant food conglomerates have silenced many of their critics simply by offering them high paying jobs.

“For consumers, the result is confusion, misinformation, and lack of protection against health claims that are unwarranted and at worst are false,” stated Marion Nestle, the preeminent authority on the politics of food. Indeed, she adds: “...food choices are political as well as personal.”

How exactly did we get here?

Ironically, some of the founding fathers of fast food—Fred Harvey, for one—would be ashamed.



I.  The Food Chain


Hamburgers

With a respectful historical nod to the Big Three Fast Food Precursors—clams, oysters and corn on the cob—let’s begin with the mother of all fast food: the hamburger.

Mongol Soldiers, “History of
the World” by Rashid al-Din
http://en.wikipedia.org/
As we know, Mongols were always on the go: invading, conquering, pillaging, plundering and what not. No way was their cavalry-based, bowlegged army going to stop, gather up branches, build a fire, unpack the pots and pans, set the table and prepare dinner. Not only that, dismounting was thought to be sacrilegious (and something only sissies did). One raw, all-beef-paddy, grabbed out of a handy pouch and shoved into their mouths ‘al fresco’ constituted their four squares.

In the 13th century, in the throes of the Mongol invasion of Rus’, the Russians dubbed this meal-on-wheels ‘tartar steak,’ ‘tartar’ being their name for their mounted invaders. (The term would be later be Frenchified to ‘steak tartare.’)

Upton B. Sinclair, Courtesy
of Prints and Photographs
Division, Library of
Congress,
B2-132-11
A century or two later (give or take), German ships brought ‘steak tartare’ back to Hamburg, where the Germans (who were much more civilized and who, apparently, had kitchens)—call them visionaries—cooked it.

By the 19th century, the German take on steak tartare had crossed the Atlantic, where more inventive American street vendors began to greet immigrants with the Hamburg steak placed between two slices of bread—an idea that may have gone over well enough with German immigrants and other slobs, but not with ACTUAL AMERICANS, who, thanks in part to Upton Beall Sinclair’s 1906 graphic exposé of the meat packing industry, wouldn’t be caught dead eating ground meat. Not yet.


Hot Dogs

Sausages, a.k.a. frankfurters (as in Frankfurt, Germany) and wieners (‘wien’ being Wienese for Vienna), vended from pushcarts before Robert E. Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, would go on to be sold at fairs and amusement parks across America. Charles Feltman cobbled together a cart with a charcoal stove that could boil sausages set in a kettle before he left the Fatherland for America, and in 1867, not knowing what kind of trend he was about to set, began selling hot sausages placed in a bun on the beach at Coney Island.

Members of the Exalted Order
of Hot Dog Fanciers,
Courtesy
of the New York Public
Library,
www.nypl.org
Feltman’s German Gardens, his restaurant, became so popular that he had a staff of 1,200 at one point.

In 1916, a Feltman employee named Nathan Handwerker was rethinking the hot dog. (A term invented either in 1901 at the Polo Grounds, where the New York Giants played baseball—Harry Magely Stevens, the director of catering, seems to have had a hand in the creation of the bun and possibly the introduction of mustard and sauerkraut—or five years later, when a 29-year-old Hearst newspaper chain sports cartoonist named T.A. “Tad” Dorgan, reacting to rumors that the meat came from dogs, drew a dachshund—a dog favored, supposedly by German butchers—inside a bun.)

Hot Dog Stand, Coney
Island, Courtesy of Prints
and Photographs Division,
Library of Congress,
USZ62-55753
Nathan opened (and, you could say, took) a stand of his own on Coney Island, charging half of what Feltman did: five cents. He parlayed his success into his (surprisingly not eponymous) chain: Nathan’s Famous. (The chain took its name from a popular song of the day, not its founder.)

“Problems soon developed… with the recurrent rumors that hot dogs were unhealthy fare, filled with rotten ground meats and an array of chemicals. As business began to dwindle because of this scare, Handwerker hired a group of college students, dressed them as physicians complete with stethoscopes, and positioned them outside his stands during the lunch hours eating hot dogs.  Soon the slanderous claims of poor quality were countered with rumors that all doctors from a local hospital were eating at Nathan’s, so therefore the food must be healthy.”

That wouldn’t be the last time that the medical profession would be employed (willingly or unwillingly) by the fast food purveyors in the hopes that appearance would triumph over reality—again.


Et. Al.

Pizza (“Pizze Cavere,” or hot cakes, in Neapolitan dialect) was peasant food, eaten with a knife and fork. The first pizzeria in the Land of the Free opened on Spring Street in New York City’s “Little Italy” neighborhood in 1895, but it was the American GIs who had been a part of the liberation of southern Italy, who insisted that restaurants add pizza (as well as meatballs and spaghetti) to their menus.

French fries are so named because of the French culinary technique of cutting potatoes (and other vegetables) into narrow strips. A notable example of the presence of French fries in early America is brought to us by Thomas Jefferson, whose French chef prepared potatoes “…in the French manner” for a White House dinner.


Thomas Jefferson Portrait by Sully,
Courtesy of the New York Public Library,
www.nypl.org

Before the centurys end, round fries, or chips, were born. Just over two decades later, in 1921, Earl Wise Sr., a Pennsylvanian grocer, used overstock and his mother's recipe to prepare the first batch of Wise potato chips. 

Soda Fountain Counter in Drug
Store, Courtesy of Prints and
Photographs Division, Library of
Congress,
D417-404
Which brings us to dessert, or, to be more specific, ice cream….

Washington ate it and so did Hamilton and Jefferson (although never together).

By 1850, Sarah Hale’s ‘Godey’s Lady’s Book’ (see THANKSGIVING) was suggesting that, “A party without it, would be like breakfast without bread or dinner without a roast.” A quarter of a century later, the ice cream soda made its debut in Philadelphia, and in the 1890s, carbonated water (soda water) was not served on Sundays so some fancy toppings were concocted, and the idea of the Sunday, or sundae (the “ae” was an affectation), was here to stay.

Louisiana Purchase Exposition,
Ferris Wheel from the Gardens of
the French Pavilion,
Courtesy of
Prints and Photographs Division,
Library of Congress,
USZ62-104910
At the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition, or more informally the St. Louis World’s Fair, one of the fifty ice cream vendors ran out of containers and appealed to a nearby pastry guy, who rolled his waffle-like product into a conical shape creating the ice cream cone. 

That same year a pharmacist’s assistant came up with the banana split, and fifteen years after that, an Iowa school teacher and sometime candy store owner made the most important discovery since fire: CHOCOLATE WILL STICK TO ICE CREAM. He named the result the “I-Scream-Bar,” which his partner, Russell Stover, soon changed to “Eskimo Pie.” 


Grand Basin and Festival Hall Illuminated, Louisiana
Purchase Exposition, Courtesy of Prints and Photographs
Division, Library of Congress,
USZ62-59644

Speaking of sticks, in nearby Ohio, an ice cream parlor proprietor, experimenting with a new kind of ice cream bar, decided to counter his daughter’s criticism that it was “too messy” by putting it on a stick. By 1923, he was selling them from a truck complete with bells that signaled the “Good Humor” man was in town. (Eleven years after that, a test car driver named Tom Carvel began selling soft ice cream from a machine he invented.)

Sadly, we know don’t know much about the first malted, milkshake, ice cream sandwich, root beer float or frappe. What we do know is that Robert Green’s will stipulated that he was the originator of the ice cream soda and that egg creams never contained eggs or cream.



II.  The Food Chains


Harvey House

Food itself was, obviously, a key element in the evolution of fast food America. But, where you ate played an even more important role in the process. To chart that course, let’s begin with Fred Harvey, a Brit, who came to America in 1850. A mere lad of fifteen, he landed a job off the boat as a dishwasher that paid two-dollars a week. (Lord knows, [you pay] some dues gettin’ through.”) It took him six years to throw in the towel, turn his back on Manhattan and head down to New Orleans, where he reckoned he’d strike out on his own.

American Progress, John Gast,
http://en.wikipedia.org
Within a year, he opened a café, married, fell into debt (on account of the café), contracted typhoid, recovered from typhoid and set off for St. Louis, where he wouldn’t stay long. 

You see it was in St. Louis that Fred heard stories about the West, and anyone who heard about the West—its land, its gold and the opportunities it held—had no choice but to go.

“For West,” as Robert Penn Warren observes, “is where we all plan to go some day. It is where you go when the land gives out and the old-field pines encroach. It is where you go when you get the letter saying: Flee, all is discovered. It is where you go when you look down at the blade in your hand and the blood on it. It is where you go when you are told that you are a bubble on the tide of empire. It is where you go when you hear that thar’s gold in them-thar hills. It is where you go to grow up with the country. It is where you go to spend your old age. Or it is just where you go.”
  
Fred Harvey,
http://en.wikipedia.org
But, the West wasn’t the one-size-fits-all, easy-to-assemble, Horatio-Alger-from-rags-to-riches American Dream quick-fix miracle (see ACID TEST) that Fred and so many others sought.

His lot scarcely changed. He took on odd jobs and worked as a mail clerk for a spell, until in 1876, he became freight manager. 

By then, he had settled down in Leavenworth, Kansas with his four (surviving) children. All the while, he continued to travel the rails, as much a muse for him as for Woody Guthrie.

Appalled by the poor quality of food available to travelers, he thought more about health and wellness, came up with the idea that launched the first high-quality restaurant chain, approached the fledgling Atchinson-Topeka-Santa Fe line and shook on the deal.

Founded in 1877, his Western eateries served Atchison-Topeka-Santa Fe passengers and blazed the path for the not-so-high-quality chains that would follow.

Harvey House, Santa Fe Station,
Courtesy of Prints and Photographs
Division, Library of
Congress,
USZ62-118086
“A conductor circulated the cars on a Santa Fe train speeding toward a meal stop at a Harvey House, asking if a passenger preferred the more expensive dining room meal, or the a la carte service of the lunchroom. These totals were wired ahead from the next telegraph stop, enabling the Harvey Girls, chefs, busboys and House staff to prepare for the arrival of the train. Tables were set, the food was prepared, coffee was hot and ready the dining room was ready to leap into exact and efficient service as the train rolled into the depot.”

Harvey’s forty-seven Harvey Houses, staffed by comely, clean, intelligent and justifiably famous Harvey Girls, were immaculate. The girls lived in supervised dorms (with a 10 p.m. curfew) paid for by Fred Harvey, along with their travel expenses. (According to Film Critic Leonard Maltin in his review of the 1946 Judy Garland movie: “Westward expansion brings with it Fred Harvey’s railroad station restaurants, and proper young waitresses who have a civilizing influence on rowdy communities.”)


Twenty El Tovar Harvey Girls in Evening Uniform,
c1926, http://www.flickr.com


Horn & Hardart

In 1888, Horn, a twenty-seven-year-old born into a food family (two of his brothers ran restaurants), opened a quick service lunchroom in Philadelphia with his mother’s financial support and posted an ad for a partner with a restaurant background.

Stained Glass Horn &
Hardart Facade, Courtesy
of the New York Public
Library,
www.nypl.org
Hardart, a thirty-eight-year-old waiter in another lunchroom (who had worked in and around restaurants for twenty-five years and counting), wrote I’m your man on a torn bag that he found and mailed it. 

He was.

The two formed a partnership, discovered the new German technology for a waiter-less restaurant and in 1901 opened the first Horn & Hardart Automat on Chestnut Street in Center City Philly.

“The horseless carriage, the wireless telephone and the playerless piano have been surpassed…. Artistically it is a glittering, though effective, combination of plate glass, marble tiling, weathered oak wainscoting and hammered brass trimmings. Practically, it is a boon to thousands of hungry business men and women,” according to The Evening Bulletin.

That was only the beginning: In 1912, five more Horn & Hardarts opened—four in the City of Brotherly Love, one on Broadway in Times Square. By 1933, there were forty-three in New York City. (Ventures to Boston and Chicago failed for a variety of reasons.)

 1165 Sixth Ave., Courtesy of
the New York Public
Library, www.nypl.org
“The Automat expressed something essential about capitalist America. Here ‘the process of pushing food into the American stomach’ had been ‘carried to the point of virtuosity.’”

Urban and urbane, Horn & Hardart Automats took the self-service cafeteria concept and ran with it. They were not only efficient and inexpensive; they were an art deco feast for the eyes. 6” x 8” stainless, glass window compartments that looked like letterboxes in a Ridley Scott post office covered one wall, and if “What you see is what you get” wasn’t their credo, it could have been.

Customers could see their sandwiches; salads; hot or cold dishes; desserts; and drinks, which included booze and piping hot coffee, spouting from dolphin-shaped, well, spouts. (Not-so-dumb-waiters delivered hot foods from the unseen kitchen, below. You couldn’t see it all yet.) The simple instructions were posted:

977 Eigth Ave., Courtesy
of the New York Public
Library, www.nypl.org
“INSERT COIN OPPOSITE DISH DESIRED. PULL HANDLE BELOW, AND RETAIN CHECK DELIVERED. WHEN DISH APPEARS IN ADJOINING APPARATUS, INSERT CHECK. YOUR ORDER IS ELECTRONICALLY COMMUNICATED AND AT ONCE FRESHLY PREPARED.”

The customer need only lift the glass and remove the dish.

(“The failure of the automatic restaurants appeared to stem from a number of causes: instructions too complicated for the average customer, unappetizing microwave-heated food, speed no better than that of a conventional fast-food outlet, and prices no lower than conventional competitors. By the late sixties, the automatic restaurants had been largely forgotten....”)


163-5 East 86 St., Alterations Completed, 1936,
Courtesy of the New York Public Library, www.nypl.org


White Castle 

At around the time that Horn & Hardart was opening in Times Square, Walter Anderson was having his way with a meatball....

Anderson, a short-order cook in Wichita, Kansas, made the leap from meatballs to flattened, ground meat. Lore has it that Walter, who had “had it up to here” with meatballs—they were just taking too long—vented his frustration by smashing one of them, half-cooked, onto the grill.

Fact has it that “…a flattened patty smothered with onions, seared on both sides and served on a bun instead of bread slices…” was soon a hit at the diner, where Anderson worked. From then on (and in all likelihood, before then), Walter “experimented with grilling…in a variety of ways, molding the meat into different shapes and serving it with an assortment of condiments.” In 1916, he opened his own joint, a “remodeled” shoe repair store.

Broad Street in Wichita, Kansas,
1874, Courtesy of Prints and
Photographs Division, Library
of Congress, USZ62-87441
It wasn’t long before he opened two more and hooked up with Bill Ingram, a Wichita real estate and insurance man with a flair for sales. (It’s unclear exactly when and how Anderson and Ingram met, maybe through a local organization. Maybe Ingram just introduced himself. He undoubtedly made it his business to know folks.) Ingram’s mission soon became: “…to break down the deep-seated prejudice against chopped beef.” Talk about noble goals. He and Anderson began The White Castle System of Eating Houses (Bill named it) and the world, for better, or probably for worse, would never be the same. (So long, Upton Sinclair.)

“The hamburger finally became popular in the 1920s because of the intensive marketing campaign by an upstart restaurant chain in Wichita, Kansas.” So popular that, in 1937, The American Restaurant Association proclaimed the hamburger and apple pie America’s favorite foods.

Standardization became the rule of the day. Each White Castle looked like, you guessed it, a white castle, ushering in the early years of branded architecture.

White Castle 616 Washington Ave,
Southeast, Minneapolis, Minnesota,
The whitewashed exterior housed a Spartan layout: a specially designed grill (in full view to offset any fear or doubt that this “castle” could be a “greasy spoon”), some “here’s your hat, what’s your hurry” stools set around a stainless steel counter and menu that only offered hamburgers (a local butcher shop would deliver meat twice daily), pie, coffee and Coca-Cola. (Invented by Dr. John Pemberton, a former Confederate soldier turned Atlanta pharmacist, as headache remedy and “brain tonic,” Coca-Cola took its name from two of its ingredients: cocaine-bearing coca leaves and kola nuts. After Pemberton sold his secret formula in 1888, caffeine took the place of cocaine and showed America the real meaning of ‘addictive.’)

A brochure boasted that: “When you sit in a White Castle remember that you are one of several thousands; you are sitting on the same kind of stool; you are being served on the same kind of counter; the coffee you drink is made in accordance with a certain formula; the hamburger you eat is prepared in exactly the same way over a gas flame of the same intensity; the cup you drink from is identical with thousands of cups that thousands of other people are using at the same moment…”

A Woman in Front of a Levittown
House, http://www.flickr.com
The American concept of SAMENESS was born.

(Which, at least, made Zooey Glass happy. After an announcer for “It’s a Wise Child” brought up housing developments, “....the little Burke girl said she hated houses that all look alike—meaning a long row of identical ‘development’ houses. Zooey said they were ‘nice.’ He said it would be very nice to come home and be in the wrong house. To eat dinner with the wrong people by mistake, sleep in the wrong bed by mistake, and kiss everybody goodbye in the morning thinking they were your own family. He said he even wished everybody in the world looked exactly alike. He said you’d keep thinking everybody you met was your wife or your mother or father, and people would always be throwing their arms around each other wherever they went, and it would look ‘very nice.’”)


Three Laughing Men by the Tiger Stream, Song
Dynasty Painting Illustrating the Theme Confucianism,
Taoism and Buddhism Are One, http://en.wikipedia.org

The all-male (until WWII) staff, most between eighteen and twenty-four, had to pass a rigorous physical and follow a strict dress code: black ties paired with adjustable paper hats and white shirts to promote the idea of cleanliness and sterility, and, therefore safety (see below). Jewelry, gum, bad breath and BO were forbidden.

Carryout was the order of the day. Staying was discouraged, but the service was, nevertheless, polite. “Buy ‘em by the sack” was the advice printed on White Castle bags, and since “’em’” cost only five cents, all too many heeded it.

12th Century Byzantine
Manuscript of the Hippocratic,
Oath, Rendered in the Form of
a Cross, http://en.wikipedia.org
In the 1930s, to offset medical reports on the unhealthy aspects of fast food, White Castle (taking a page from the Nathan Handwerker playbook): “…arranged for a medical student to live for thirteen weeks on nothing but White Castle hamburgers and water. The student maintained good health through the three-month period, and was eating twenty to twenty-four hamburgers a day during the last few weeks.  A food scientist signed a report that a normal healthy child could eat nothing but [White Castle] hamburger[s] and water, and fully develop all physical and mental faculties.” 

By that time, thanks to Walt and Bill’s sliders and Walt’s bun, the hamburger had become the quintessential American meal. In 2011, over fourteen billion hamburgers will be consumed—twice the number of hot dogs.

Last but certainly not leased (in 1935, he invented food franchising when the post 1929 stock market crash, lending challenged banks turned him down) is Howard Johnson. His ice cream stands on Boston’s beaches and circa 1925, Quincy soda fountain served his own thick, rich chocolate syrup and three flavors his mother’s hand cranked ice cream (whose recipe called for pure, natural vanilla flavoring (rather than the cheap synthetic kind everyone else was using) with the resultant double-your pleasure butter fat content—the beginnings of premium ice cream.  

Howard Johnson's (precise location
Johnson added hot dogs, which he insisted be called the more formal ‘frankforts,’ cooked in butter and placed in a butter grilled roll (all cradled in a convenient cardboard holder), some fried clam rolls and expanded to twenty-eight flavors of ice cream, all made in his own factory, which varied seasonally and regionally.

Johnson's restaurants were (by 1940, there were 130) invariably topped by orange roofs that reflected light (when Johnson discovered that asphalt shingles were dull, he replaced them with enamel-coated metal ones), so that they could be seen from the turnpikes they were always located on or near, a weather vane and storybook characters – Simple Simon and the Pieman, signaling ‘kid friendly’ environs eons before the term became over-used ad infinitum.

“Howard Johnson strove for symmetry, and although perfect symmetry could rarely be attained, the company consistently achieved the next best thing, a serene balance between left and right. In some Johnson’s restaurants in the 1930s, there were exactly the same number of windows to the left of the front door as to the right, and they were almost evenly matched in size, even though strictly functional considerations would have dictated otherwise.”

Raymond "Ray" Kroc,
http://en.wikipedia.org
‘Symmetry.’ ‘Serene.’ ‘Sameness’ spelled differently.

Of course, the story of fast food in American could not be complete without briefly mentioning J.G. Kirby and David Wallerstein. Kirby was the Dallas boy, who pretty much invented the drive-in, and left us with this insight: “People with cars are so lazy they don’t want to get out of them to eat.” Wallerstein was working for a chain of movie theaters in Texas (clearly, a state where creativity abounds) when he invented the bucket of popcorn. He eventually convinced the frighteningly named Ray Kroc that supersizing was the future, and indeed, it was.


Bibliography

Barach, Arnold B.; Famous American Trademarks
Dickson, Paul; The Great American Ice Cream Book
Dylan, Bob; Lyrics 1962–2001
Gill, Jonathan; Harlem
Grimes, William; Appetite City: A Culinary History of New York
Hogan, David Gerard; Selling ‘em by the Sack: White Castle and the Creation of American Food
Jakle, John A. and Keith A. Sculle; Fast Food: Roadside Restaurants and the Automobile Age
Levenstein, Harvey; Paradox of Plenty: A Social History of Eating in Modern America
—————; Revolution at the Table: The Transformation of the American Diet
Librairie Larousse; Gastronomique Larousse; The World’s Greatest Culinary Encyclopedia
Love, John F.; McDonald’s Behind the Arches
Maltin, Leonard; Leonard Maltin’s 2007 Movie Guide
Mariani, John; America Eats Out: An Illustrated History of Restaurants, Taverns, Coffee Shops, Speakeasies, and Other Establishments That Have Fed Us for 350 Years
—————; The Dictionary of American Food and Drink
Nestle, Marion; Food Politics: How the Food Industry Influences Nutrition and Health
PBS, “Fast Food (1954),” pbs.org/speak/words/trackthatword
Poling-Kempes, Lesley; The Harvey Girls: Women Who Opened the West
Root, Waverly and Richard de Rochemont; Eating in America: A History
Salinger, J. D.; Raise High the Room Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: an Introduction
Schlosser, Eric. Fast Food Nation: The Dark Side of the All-American Meal
Seabrook, John; “Snacks for a Fat Planet,” Dept. of Food Science, The New Yorker, May 16, 2011, 54-72
Smith, Andrew F.; The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America, vols. 1 and 2
Warren, Robert Penn; All the King’s Men
Wikipedia; French Fries
Workman, Daniel; “Top Fast Food Countries: American Companies & Consumers Lead World in Outside Casual Dining,” suite 101, August 29, 2007, http://www.suite101.com/content/top-fast-food-countries-a29881.
Ziegelman, Jane; 97 Orchard: An Edible History of Five Immigrant Families in One New York Tenement


“By the nineteen-nineties….”; Seabrook, 54-72
“For consumers,....”; Nestle, 224
“…food choices…”; Ibid
“Problems soon…”; Hogan, 17
“Pizze Cavere….”; Grimes, 128
“…in the French…”; Wikipedia, 1
“…turned a…”; Schlosser, 139
“A Party Without…”; Root, 427
“Lord knows,....”; Dylan, 331
“For West,…”; Warren,  376-77
“A conductor…”; Poling-Kempes, 41
“Westward expansion…”; Maltin, 561
“The horseless….”; Langdon, 16
“The Automat….”; Grimes, 191
“Insert coin…”; Grimes, 187
“The failure….”; Landgon, 104
 “…a flattened…”; Hogan, 25
“…experimented with…”; Hogan, 25
“…to break down…”; Hogan, 30
“The hamburger…”; Smith, 587
“When you sit…”; Mariani, Vol. 1, 124
“…the little…” Salinger, 68
“…arranged for…”; Hogan, 33
“Howard Johnson….”; Langdon, 49
“People with….”; Langdon, 59