I came by my copy of Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook (1968) at a little antique store in Sherwood, Oregon.   There was a tiny book section tucked in the back of the store with no real rhyme or reason to it.  There certainly wasn’t a cookbook section, but the overall selection was refreshingly eclectic.  I picked up a self-published history of the American Communist party and  Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook,  a small-form hardback with a lightly worn dust jacket.  It set me back all of five dollars.

I have a particular interest in vintage “ethnic” cookbooks, which provide a window into past perceptions of international cuisine in American culture.   It’s tempting to write this off as ignorance or cultural illiteracy, but it’s not that simple.  If anything these snapshots of the past challenge problematic modern conceptions of authenticity.  In the 1960s Americans knew Chinese food almost exclusively through restaurants, which little resembled contemporary Chinese home cooking.  China itself was only a few years on the other side of a revolution-induced famine, with the average family earning only a few dollars a day.  Any traditional, time-honored recipe of interest to the American palate would was a ruling class affair.  These dishes are no more “authentic” to Chinese cuisine than a caviar-topped lobster tail would be to modern Americans.

In the twenty-first century China, and most of Asia generally, enjoys a substantially improved standard of living.  Traveling food bloggers chasing authenticity will find plenty of street food and traditional meals to wow their American readers,  much better than the subsistence and periodic starvation of the mid-1960s.   Better yet, if they find a local specialty it is much more likely that American home cooks can recreate it with identical ingredients.  Twenty-first century shoppers enjoy unparalleled ingredient availability.    My local Safeway now sells a variety of imported cheeses, exotic fruits, and internationally sourced ingredients that weren’t even available stateside twenty-five years ago.    I live within fifteen minutes of specialized markets for a dozen different Asian, Central/South American, and Middle Eastern cuisines, and can source nearly anything else I can dream of via the internet.  We frankly spoiled rotten in our ability to prepare traditional cuisine from all over the world.

This was not the case in 1968, when Ms. Waldo was compiling her cookbook.   A few recipes call for fermented black beans or dried mushrooms, an impressive ask for the 1960s, but most of Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook is soy sauce and sherry.  As a consequence, few of the recipes will match modern perceptions of Chinese food or even American Chinese restaurant favorites.  The recipes employ traditional Chinese cooking methods and approximate traditional flavors, but many of the dishes end up being neither recognizably Chinese nor American.   This is not for a lack of trying or desire, or any sort of disrespect for Chinese cuisine.  Ms. Waldo had no Asian heritage, as you might suspect from her surname, but enjoyed a forty year career authoring cookbooks and travel guides.  She was both well-educated and well-traveled.  The opening chapters of Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook provide a cogent overview of Chinese cuisine and customs, with a brief but nuanced discussion of regional variants and traditions.  Ms. Waldo presumably knew much more about Chinese food than she lets on here.   But if you can’t find ingredients you can’t cook with them.  The 1960s supermarket is the constraint, not Ms. Waldo’s knowledge.

As a consequence, Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook can sometimes feel as though it treats Chinese cooking less as a cuisine and more as a theme for entertaining.  Ms. Waldo speaks of preparing a traditional Chinese meal in the in the way that one might talk about preparing for a garden party or picnic.   In Ms. Waldo’s estimation a proper meal must have 3-4 dishes minimum, accompanied by rice, and cooked quickly in view of your guests.  This dinner party approach makes many of the recipes Myra Waldo’s Chinese Cookbook wholly impractical for everyday home cooking.   Individual recipes prepare embarrassingly small portions but don’t stand on their own if you scale them up.   Recipes have plain flavor and Ms. Waldo would serve a variety of complementary dishes.  You’re either making four or five dishes or you’re making none at all.  Or you’re finding one of the exceptions, like Chinese Braised Pork with Spinach.