Since I can remember, I have been convinced I was born in the wrong decade. The signs were all there: I’d rather listen to Nat King Cole than Nirvana. At fourteen. I’d rather watch An Affair to Remember than Titanic. {I mean, who passes up Cary Grant for Leo?}. I was completely different than most every girl I knew. There was just something about the post-war years that seemed romantic in my young heart.

Not much has changed, other than my age. And despite being an iPad toting, internet dependent, Generation Y’er, I secretly yearn for days of old. So naturally, when my friend let me use her “family” cookbook, I fell in love.

{photo credit}

Just flipping the pages of Betty Crocker’s Picture Cookbook makes me feel like June Cleaver. I want to promptly put on my apron, turn on the radio {aka, Pandora app on my iPad} and begin baking. Perhaps even invest in nice serving ware and a dinner bell.

It took over a year of not so subtle hints before I out right forced Jonathan bought the book for me. After reading him the recipes {along with their humorous, but actually helpful tips} Jonathan announced “I don’t know why we didn’t buy this sooner. We are 1950’s people”. Indeed we are.

Yesterday I used Betty’s recipe for yeast rolls and loaf bread. Then for dinner I made sausage and asparagus that I smothered in a cheese cream from the cookbook’s sauce section. And per the cookbook’s suggestions, I topped the night off with banana cake and white butter frosting. I was a bona fide housewife and I loved it! Well, except for the constantly-cleaning part. I need to look into maid service if I’m gonna keep this up.

Bon appetite, June Cleaver!

Visit Jill at Diaper Diaries for more Things I Love Thursday.