Ever notice how your kids look at you like you’ve grown a second head when you mention saving bacon grease? Or how about when you suggest making a casserole with whatever’s left in the fridge?

Food traditions that seemed perfectly normal to us boomers have become as foreign to younger generations as rotary phones and TV dinners on actual TV trays.

Growing up as the middle child of five in a working-class family in Ohio, I witnessed firsthand how different our relationship with food was compared to today.

My mother managed our household budget during tight times, and her resourcefulness in the kitchen taught me lessons that younger folks might find downright bizarre today.

1. Saving bacon grease in a coffee can

Remember that old Folgers can sitting on the back of the stove? The one filled with congealed bacon fat that mom would use for everything from frying eggs to seasoning green beans?

Try explaining this to a millennial and watch their face contort in horror.

We didn’t waste anything back then. That bacon grease was liquid gold, adding flavor to dishes that would otherwise be pretty bland. These days, my grandkids watch me pour bacon fat into a jar and ask why I’m not throwing it away.

“That’s flavor, kiddo,” I tell them, but they just reach for the olive oil spray instead.

2. Jell-O salads with suspended vegetables

What do you get when you mix lime Jell-O, cottage cheese, mayonnaise, and canned pineapple? If you answered “dessert,” you’re definitely not a boomer.

We called these concoctions “salads” and brought them to every potluck and family gathering.

The more things suspended in that jiggly mass, the better. Carrots, celery, nuts, marshmallows, nothing was off limits. Today’s generation looks at these creations like they’re science experiments gone wrong. Can’t say I blame them entirely, but there was something oddly satisfying about that wiggle.

3. TV dinners as special treats

Believe it or not, TV dinners were once considered a luxury in many households.

When mom didn’t feel like cooking and dad brought home those aluminum trays, it felt like Christmas morning. You got your own individual meal, perfectly portioned in its little compartments.

We’d actually get excited about peeling back that foil to reveal mystery meat, instant mashed potatoes, and that weird apple dessert thing. Now? Kids have access to food delivery apps that can bring restaurant-quality meals to their door in 30 minutes.

4. Casseroles made from canned everything

Got a can of cream of mushroom soup? Some tuna? Maybe some crushed potato chips? Congratulations, you’ve got dinner. The casserole was the ultimate boomer food hack, turning pantry staples into something that could feed a family of seven.

My mother was the casserole queen. She could make magic happen with three cans and whatever leftovers were hiding in the fridge.

These days, when I suggest making a casserole to younger friends, they look at me like I suggested we forage for berries in the backyard.

5. Sunday dinner as a mandatory family event

In our house, Sunday dinner wasn’t optional. My family didn’t have much money, but we always had Sunday dinner together. It was sacred time – no friends, no phone calls, no excuses. Everyone showed up, or they better have been in the hospital.

Today, getting the whole family together for a meal requires a Doodle poll, three weeks’ notice, and usually falls apart when someone remembers they have a yoga class.

The idea of a weekly mandatory family meal seems as outdated as using a phone book.

6. Drinking Tang because astronauts did

If it was good enough for the space program, it was good enough for us. Tang wasn’t just orange drink powder; it was the future in a jar. We genuinely believed we were drinking the same thing as astronauts, and that made us feel special.

Try explaining to a kid today why you’d choose powdered orange drink over actual orange juice. They’ve got cold-pressed, organic, locally sourced options at every corner. We had Tang, and we liked it.

7. Aspic as party food

Nothing said “fancy dinner party” quite like a shimmering mound of meat-flavored gelatin.

Aspic was our attempt at haute cuisine, taking perfectly good ingredients and suspending them in savory Jell-O.

The amount of effort that went into these creations was astounding. Hours of preparation for something that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than on a dinner plate. Modern generations can barely comprehend why anyone would voluntarily eat jellied meat.

8. Cooking everything until it was thoroughly dead

Vegetables weren’t done until they were gray. Meat wasn’t safe unless it was the consistency of shoe leather. We cooked the life out of everything because that’s what our parents taught us, and food safety meant different things back then.

After I retired and started cooking seriously, I learned that vegetables could actually be crisp and meat could be pink in the middle. Following modern recipes taught me that our old ways weren’t always the best ways.

Sometimes following recipes is like following life advice, you need to know when to stick to tradition and when to try something new.

9. Fondue parties as the height of sophistication

Want to impress your friends in the ’70s? Break out the fondue pot. We’d gather around that bubbling pot of cheese or chocolate like it was a campfire, armed with our long forks and cubes of bread.

The whole ritual of it, the special equipment, the communal eating, the inevitable dropping of food into the pot, was part of the experience.

These days, sharing food from a common pot seems almost unsanitary to younger folks raised on individual portions and food safety warnings.

10. Making everything from scratch because it was cheaper

We didn’t make our own bread because we were artisanal bakers. We did it because it cost pennies compared to store-bought. Same with pasta sauce, pickles, and jam. The kitchen was a production facility born out of necessity.

Now I watch my grandchildren buy pre-cut fruit and individually wrapped cheese sticks, and I bite my tongue. When I make pancakes for them every Sunday during their visits, they’re amazed that I’m not using a mix.

“From scratch” has become a luxury rather than a necessity.

Final thoughts

These food traditions might seem strange or even unappetizing to younger generations, but they represent more than just outdated cuisine.

They’re snapshots of a time when families gathered regularly, nothing went to waste, and making do with what you had was a virtue, not a hardship.

While I don’t miss everything about boomer food culture (looking at you, aspic), I do miss the simplicity and togetherness it represented. Maybe that’s the real tradition worth preserving.