Old News: Valentine’s Day Dough, Perfume and Vinegar

Call it Valentine’s sustenance. Since Cupid’s arrow was first slung back in the dark ages, there have been hard hits, softer ones and total misses since. But there’s always been a little bit of sweet, sour and downright doughy satisfying for the Valentine’s Day palate, with a little kooky sprinkled on top.

Never mind candy. Valentines’ minds were on some other interesting things for the senses through the ages.

Starting as far back as the 1800s, Valentine’s Day was given a bit of a sour taste with Vinegar Valentines across the globe.

Pucker up. These sardonic blasts to the sugary sweetness of more puritanical Valentines originated in England in the Queen Victoria era. As an Ann Landers column in The Daily Register Feb. 13, 1977 said, “Some say they were a reaction to the stuffy mortality of the Victorian era.” And they were very popular. Renegade anti-puritanical folks soured on Valentine’s Day’s hearts, flowers and foolery flocked to find the prankish notes with a Cupid’s arrow hit of hate and reality. They sent them en mass anonymously, of course.

The Vinegar Valentines were also dubbed Penny Dreadfuls and Rudes and Crudes. And they were all that and a rancid chocolate. Hallmark’s Historical Collection quoted a couple:

“I’ll treat you with scorn whenever we pass. You deceitful oily-tongued snake in the grass.”

“Your tongue is ever on the swing and has a harsh, discordant ring. How I hate its scolding tone. Your clapper is the curse of home.”

“In the 1800s, in fact, they were considered so evil that the Chicago Post Office refused to deliver 20,000 of them, labeling them ‘vicious and obscene,'” the Landers column said.

Then again, Ann Landers, whose column was popular back in the 1970s, also chastised an advice-seeker who championed a married woman’s right to go out with her friends to have a drink just like men and not be labeled a straying, man-seeking floozy. Landers’ response was that, basically, women didn’t have that right and should they seek to go out with friends for a cocktail, they were surely aiming to be some sort of tart. That was the ’70s, folks! Not so heartwarming a notion.

Let’s talk real warmth … in the gullet. Very locally, in Fair Haven 50 years ago at Knollwood School, 12 first-graders were thinking doughy sweet warmth and sustenance when they made bread on Valentine’s Day to bring home to their valentines — their families.

Yes, it was Feb. 14, 1974 when calling it “the best gift of love,” the students, inspired by being read the story “The Big Round Ball” and the book “Let’s Bake Bread,” by Little Silver residents Hannah Lyons Johnson and Daniel Dorn Jr., baked bread to break bread with their family loves later.

The best line in the unbylined story in The Daily Register was, describing Knollwood Principal Wallace Wolf’s part in the project, was, “His wife pressed his apron at home and he went to work with the youngsters.” The story also said that Wolf was “something of a gourmet cook and baker in his spare time.” Yes, it was the sexist ’70s and this sort of proclamation that a man could cook was a real tradition-braking badge of honor. Of course, as a journalist, I’d have to ask the person who wrote this one how they knew his wife pressed his apron. It wasn’t a direct quote from him and there was no attribution. I’d bet he pressed his own apron, but I’d have to ask. Mr. Wolf? Now that’s a sweet and filling Valentine’s story.

Valentine’s tidbit of ’74: Infamous mob-affiliated teamster’s union boss Jimmy Hoffa turned 61 on that day. Wonder who was his birthday Valentine.

And going back further to 75 years ago, there was a sweetness in the scent of things in Fair Haven for the holiday …

In 1949, The Candle Light store on River Road in Fair Haven advertised selling heart-shaped perfume dispensers “small enough to fit in an evening bag” and hold a month’s supply of perfume. The decanters came in different colors with a tassel? OK, then.

Here’s the ad’s copy …

“So — Have a heart — or give one away on Valentine’s Day!

It’s a “Sweetheart” and retails for $1.50.

Ad for the place slogan was “For gifts that are different”

Phone: Red Bank 6-2144

Remember that store? Gotta love that phone number. Who remembers when Fair Haven phone numbers started with a Shadyside 7?

And 100 years ago on Valentine’s Day in 1924 …

Reussille’s jewelry store on Broad Street — yes, the same one that still exists in the same spot — was advertising diamond rings in a Daily Register ad for those who wanted to be super Valentine’s Day heroes and propose.

Hmmmmm … Can ya guess how much those things that cost about the same as or more than a starter home down-payment cost a century ago?

Those rings were being sold for $50, $75 and $100. No, the decimals were not displaced. That was the price. You can’t even go out to dinner for that now. Keep slinging those arrows, Cupid! Ouch!

And, in no orderly fashion, I am compelled to share another fun Valentine’s zinger from the 1980s.

There were a few years of these published, sometimes anonymous, Valentine’s, or stalker or family kinda love, messages dubbed Love Lines in The Daily Register. They worked along the lines of a special day of personal ads. Remember those?

Before social media and texting, which wasn’t all that long ago, really, caller ID ruined the ol’ pranks and hang-ups from the jilted, so some turned to these published messages to get their point across. Love Lines was just for Valentine’s Day. Beyond that there were those personals, which online dating replaced. I’m thinking the personals were much more fun and equally as dangerous, really.

But, about those Love Lines …

Here are some doozies:

“Hank, You’re not going to believe this, but I lost your #!! Call me!! J”

“Dear Peg, I’ll never wash my car again. I love you. Jerry”

“John: Are you excitable? Bet you’re unbelievable. I’m glad you keep calling. Love, just the right height”

“Linda Cender, Will you be my moony, moony, coochy coohy, oony, oony bear forever? Love you always, Baby Smooch”

Now, douse yourself with some perfume, have yourself a fresh-baked slice of bread sprinkled with vinegar and some classic ’80s love lines. That’ll temper the sappy sweetness of it all — or make you pucker up, at least, gag a little and smile with sarcasm. We’ve got this, Cupid. Happy Valentine’s Day from the reality check team.