10 Vintage Appetizers From The '50s That Need To Make A Comeback

Some things were just done a little bit better in the old days, and one of those things was appetizers. Nowadays, appetizers can feel as though they fall into the same territory over and over again: You're either serving little pieces of deep-fried beige food, hastily assembling fussy little tarts that are gone in seconds, or shoving a bowl of chips on the table. 

Back in the '50s, though, appetizers were a sight to behold. These dishes had a real ambition to them, and married a generosity of spirit and flavor with surprising diversity. They also had a real sense of drama to them. A lot of this came from the time period, of course. The 1950s were the decade of the cocktail party, when people threw off the trauma of the Second World War and came together to celebrate a new sense of freedom, prosperity, and excitement. 

The appetizers of the decade reflected the feeling of liberation at the time, and dishes like Hollywood Dunk, Neiman Marcus dip, and rumaki felt like a product of their era, simultaneously extravagant and accessible. As you might expect, this was also a time when processed food items reigned supreme, leading to appetizers like the SPAM and cheese ribbon loaf and Philly Hostess dip. We think these appetizers deserve a second spin.

Where else could you find an appetizer made from slices of SPAM and layers of cream cheese, constructed into a loaf form and piled into a serving dish, than the 1950s? Look, it was a different time, people, and a time when the SPAM and cheese ribbon loaf was a must-dry dish. This meaty, cheesy appetizer was promoted by Hormel Foods as a way to use SPAM in a slightly more, shall we say, fashionable way. The idea, apparently, was that these loaves could then be sliced into small pieces, which you could then either place onto a cracker or just pop into your mouth.

The invention of the SPAM and cheese ribbon loaf was likely part of a larger push by Hormel to rebrand its product. SPAM was ubiquitous during the Second World War, and became known as an item that United States and Allied Forces soldiers ate. After the war, the company had to figure out a new image for the product, and it positioned SPAM as a must-have item for home cooks. This didn't quite work in the U.S., but we're sure that a good few SPAM and cheese ribbon loaves were made. Still, we love the kitschy nature of this appetizer, and given SPAM's newfound popularity, it's time for a second spin.

The 1950s were the decade of rumaki. It was also the decade that its home, Trader Vic's, dominated the restaurant scene. The tropical-themed restaurant chain turned into a franchise in the '50s, and rumaki was one of its star dishes. This appetizer was made of a chicken liver and a water chestnut wrapped in a piece of glazed bacon, which was flavored heavily with soy, maple syrup, sugar, and cayenne. The resulting little bite was sweet, savory, and intense. It was the perfect thing to pair with one of Trader Vic's sweet cocktails.

Rumaki was ostensibly invented before Trader Vic's took it and ran with it, with the dish showing up on menus from the 1940s onwards. It continued to be popular into the 1960s, but eventually, it started to decline in its appeal. So did Trader Vic's, which began to feel old-fashioned and staid, and its presence started to recede into the background as new chains began to take over. You can still find it served at cocktail parties around the country, but there's no denying that it's now one of those vintage chicken dishes that you don't often see anymore. We think that's a shame: It's got a serious punch to it that other appetizers can't quite match, and it's a great way to use often-wasted organ meat.

There's just nothing quite as retro as a cheese ball. We think that reputation holds it back, to be honest. Cheese balls may be old-fashioned, but they're also an appetizer that gives you an extraordinary amount of bang for your buck. Although they're virtually synonymous with the 1950s, they were actually invented long before then, in the late 19th century. It was the '50s that really saw them take off, though, perhaps thanks to the greater availability of processed cheese products that made them such a breeze to put together.

The most appealing thing about a cheese ball was that it could be as simple or as complicated as you wanted it to be. You could stud it with fruit or nuts, or mix in pieces of meat or fresh herbs, or you could leave it simple. Perhaps this customizability was why they remained popular all the way through to the '70s, but that's when they began to drop off the radar. Cheese balls have had a bit of a resurgence in modern times, but they're nowhere near as widespread as they once were, and you tend to only see them in knowingly vintage settings. It's sad to see them decline, though. They're fun, they're a talking point, and they freeze really well. 

We introduce you to the wedgie. No, folks, we're not talking about pulling someone's underwear up and out from their pants: This was the actual name of an appetizer during the 1950s, and one that sounds like it was both convenient and pretty tasty. Wedgies were a form of ham cake, and appeared in the 1950 edition of the popular "Betty Crocker's Picture Cook Book." A wedgie was made by sandwiching pieces of bologna together with cream cheese, and layering it up like a cake. The finished construction was then spread with cheese as "frosting," and it was then decorated with sliced olives. To serve it, the host would cut it into wedges.

Perhaps this appetizer fell out of fashion because people no longer loved the idea of eating a cake made of pork and cheese. Or maybe this appetizer suffered because of its name, which had connotations of bullying. As the act of giving someone a wedgie became more widespread in mainstream culture, the appetizer faded away. We'd be inclined to say that it likely stopped being popular because of its slightly kitschy look, though — but if you ask us, we think it's pretty fun, and a novel way to serve deli meat.

The 1950s were the decade of the dip. It felt like no matter where you turned during these years, there was a perfect little bowl of dippable glory ready to greet you — and a lot of them were made with Philadelphia Cream Cheese. Although the Philly brand was founded long before the '50s, the push to incorporate packaged products in appetizers during the decade saw it being used in a lot of different forms, and pamphlets like the "Philly Dip Party Handbook" spread its popularity even further. One of the dips included in this tome, the Philly Hostess Dip, was a zippy, slightly spicy affair that was destined to be a star.

Philly Hostess dip started with a base of cream cheese, but into that went a lot of flavor. Mustard, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, garlic salt, paprika, and lemon juice were all included, adding layers of spice, heat, and smokiness. A little mayonnaise brought a touch of tang, while some milk thinned everything out. The Philly Dip Party Handbook recommended serving it with corn chips, but we think that any type of chip or crudité could work well here. The Philly Hostess dip has since retreated into the sands of time, but we think it should have one more bow.

Okay, we get why this one isn't as popular as it once was. This curious little appetizer could be found in "Betty Crocker's Picture Cook Book," and it was a fairly simple open-faced sandwich. To make it, all you had to do was mix canned minced clams with white cream cheese, forming a kind of thick paste. You then merely had to spread the clams on top of some slices of toast, and the whole thing was good to be placed onto a serving platter and passed around as a canapé.

This appetizer is a relic of the time when canned clams were more popular than they now are, and speaks to a period that valued convenience pretty highly. With that said, we do think there's a lot to be said for minced clam-cheese sandwiches, with their bizarrely literal name. The sweet and briny notes of the clams would have layered nicely with the cream cheese flavors, creating a surprisingly dynamic spread. Plus, this is an appetizer that screams out for customization: We can envisage chopped parsley, garlic, hot sauce, and mustard going really well in it. Give it a try next time you're in a pinch and need to find a way to use up those versatile canned clams you bought last year.

A dip named after a department store? It could only be a product of the '50s. Neiman Marcus dip isn't an appetizer that does things by halves: This dish is also known as Million Dollar dip, which speaks to its luxurious nature. Neiman Marcus dip starts with a base of cream cheese, and into it is mixed mayonnaise, Cheddar cheese, bacon bits, and slivered almonds. Green onions and cayenne pepper are also thrown in, and the dip is then topped with whatever you have left. It's savory, spicy, salty, crunchy, and really, really good.

Neiman Marcus dip first came to life in 1953, and as the name suggests, it hailed from the store itself. More specifically, it was the brainchild of Helen Corbitt, Neiman Marcus' Director of Food Services. The dip hasn't entirely disappeared from public life, and it can still pop up here and there, but it's clearly nowhere near as popular as it once was. Maybe that's because people prefer to buy prepackaged dips instead of making them themselves these days. If you ask us, that's pretty sad.

The 1950s were a time when appetizers were named very literally. Our proof? Check out sausage and potato balls, a now-forgotten dish that's exactly what the name says. Sausage and potato balls were a dish that appeared in 1953's "The Joy of Cooking," and they were a double-layered affair that would have been a lot of fun to make and to eat. All you had to do was roll some sausage into a small ball before covering it in mashed potatoes and then an egg wash. You'd then crown your balls with breadcrumbs and deep-fry them until golden brown.

This appetizer feels like a form of Scotch egg (without the egg, of course), and we really love how accessible they seem. The biggest challenge would be making sure the sausage was cooked through, but once that was mastered, deliciousness would ensue. Texture-wise, this appetizer was also a winner, with crunchy, smooth, and chewy consistencies all coming together in beautiful harmony.

You can always count on Southern cuisine to evoke a sense of nostalgia and coziness. In the case of cheese dreams, this appetizer does so both with its name and with its flavor. Cheese dreams were widespread throughout the 1950s, and appeared in pamphlets and cookbooks both prior to and after the decade. They were a staple during ladies' luncheons, cocktail parties, and social clubs, and while they've enjoyed a minor comeback driven by a love of vintage nibbles, they're definitely not the appetizer they used to be.

Our opinion is that they really need a bigger stage, for the simple fact that cheese dreams are totally delicious. They're kind of a cross between a cheese sandwich and a cheese straw: Small pieces of bread were filled with a combination of cheese, butter, cream, egg, and seasonings, and the sandwich was then coated with the same mixture. The rich construction was then baked until it developed a golden-brown color and a slight crispiness. Cheese dreams feel elegant and classy, but in a world of prepackaged appetizers, they probably feel a bit too much work for most people. To that, we say, give them a try.

There are a lot of appetizers from the 1950s out there, but you know the one that makes us smile the most? It's the Hollywood Dunk. That's thanks to its name more than anything, which is perhaps the most evocative out there in appetizer land — but it's also because of its ability to turn an often-ridiculed ingredient into something special. Hollywood Dunk was a dip that began with a can of deviled ham, which was mixed with horseradish, before adding in minced onion, chives, and whipped cream. In "Betty Crocker's Picture Cook Book," a cup of cream was suggested for this dip, which would have ensured that the sharp horseradish flavor was leveled out.

Hollywood Dunk was also known as Hollywood Dip (although we definitely prefer the first name), and you can still find recipes for it floating around. For the most part, though, it's disappeared. It's an awesome choice if you need to find a way to use that can of deviled ham you impulse-bought, though, and we admire how it took a canned ingredient that's not exactly known for its subtle flavors and made it feel exciting and fresh (and way less salty).