Swingtown: Longing, Shame and that Rosy Perfection recipe

By Elaine B

Can we return to a more innocent life after innocence is lost? Can we, as Quentin Crisp asserted, reclaim our virginity through rigorous practice of prudishness? Susan, still reeling from her discovery of lawyer Sylvia’s business card in her husband’s pocket, certainly tries. First, she has a surprised Bruce say prayers at Sunday breakfast. Then she hustles everyone to church to hopefully give Bruce a dose of good old religious guilt. They see Janet and family there, and Susan asks Janet to help her organize a housewarming party. Janet, in her element, hits the recipe books while Susan and Bruce head over to the Decker’s for a pool party. There Bruce confesses his own innocence to Trina, explaining that he has only been with two women in his life. She thinks he’s sweet.

As soon as Brad and Sylvia arrive, Susan claims a headache and says she is going home. She tells Bruce to stay as he’d probably enjoy it. He follows her home, finds out why she is acting so strange and tells her the card was nothing. “Sex has consequences,” Susan tells him, explaining that, though they vowed to never repeat that night of indiscretion, she now looks at other women differently.

Meanwhile, over at the Thompsons, Janet has discovered B.J. and little Ricky selling Bruce’s old Playboys. Ricky gets grounded and she marches the pair and poor embarrassed Roger over to the Millers, where the fathers have to explain with straight faces why reading Playboy is bad. It’s a difficult moment as they explain about airbrushing the photos and how the boys will someday meet real women, and you know the dads would prefer to just sit down with the boys and check out the centerfolds. “I can’t believe you let Bruce bring this filth into your house,” Janet tells Susan. Susan is likely thinking, as I was, poor Roger.

The housewarming party was the one moment that brought back my own past. I attended a suburban party with a friend who brought me along for moral support. It was a throwback to the ’50s – stupid food, silly games (did anyone else ever have to play the marshmallows on the string game?) and a lot of empty conversation. We stayed about an hour then headed back to the “drink me” house to unwind. But in Susan’s case it’s “drink me” meets the ’50s, with Janet and some silly game involving celebrity names on people’s backs squaring off against Trina and her fondue game (“anyone who drops a cube into the cheese has to kiss a man who is not her husband”). So adolescent that last, but Trina made it seem sexy. Trina scores points with Janet by complimenting her Rosy Perfection Salad, but they are soon fighting over where to put a tray of meatballs.

Susan saves the day by ripping off the loose living room wallpaper, which she hates, and soon the guests are tearing off the paper and covering the walls with writing. Janet jots down her salad recipe. Things turn out right in the end for everyone except Janet, who sees her own image drawn in a nun’s habit and is not amused (is she ever?).

Afterwards, Susan asks Bruce that they always be open with each other with “all options on the table.” And they use the recorder Tom and Trina gave them to tape themselves making love. And Bruce, it seems, is getting better.

Conspicuously absent from the festivities is Laurie, who is at the library helping her teacher sort books for a prison literary project. They bond over James Joyce and Dylan (not Thomas). She gets to call him Doug and manages to kiss him without his pushing her away. It’s a start, and she comes home euphoric and adds a tiny “LM & DS” to all the writing on the wall.

D.J. and Samantha continue their relationship, but it’s not worth writing about.

The singularly unsexy yet oddly entertaining episode ends with Tom and Trina in a foursome, their hands locked.

P.S. – It took a bit of effort but I finally figured out Janet’s recipe for Rosy Perfection Salad, partly from pausing the DVR to jot what was on the wall and partly by finding a similar recipe online and a picture of it, courtesy of a vintage Weight Watcher’s recipe card. This further supports my notion of Janet’s secret addiction. Anyway, for those who want to try it (personally, I’m a sucker for anything that mixes red cabbage, sugar and vinegar), here is Janet’s recipe:

Rosy Perfection Salad
1 Envelope Unflavored Gelatin
1-1/4 c Water
1/4 c Sugar
1/4 c Vinegar
1/2 t Salt (or to taste)
2 c Finely Shredded Red Cabbage
1 c Chopped Celery
1 jar mandarin oranges, drained and chopped

In medium saucepan, soften gelatin in 2 tablespoons of the water; let stand 1 minute. Add rest of water and, over low heat, cook until gelatin dissolves. Add sugar, vinegar and salt; stir until sugar dissolves. Chill until partially set. Fold in remaining ingredients and chill 3 hours or overnight. Note: With the single envelope of gelatin and the loads of veggies, I think Janet likely improved on this salad’s tastiness a bit but, from the image, lost the molded form (a blessing). Serve it at your next ’70s or Vintage Weight Watchers party.

And yes, I am fairly sure this is the sort of thing ’70s nuns might have made for church socials.