The New-York Historical Society Is Sharing Historical Recipes From Its Archives

Knud Winckelmann, Wikimedia Commons // CC BY-SA 3.0
Knud Winckelmann, //

With stay-at-home orders in effect across the country, many people are cooking now more than ever. If you've already exhausted your favorite cookbooks and recipe websites in quarantine, you can now get culinary inspiration from an unlikely source. As reports, the New-York Historical Society has started sharing recipes dating back to the 19th century.

美女视频黄频大全视频On Tuesday, April 14, the first recipe of the new initiative was sent to subscribers of the . Transcribed from a handwritten cookbook, the lemon cake recipe calls for the juice and peel of one lemon and 2 1/2 tumblers of powdered sugar. (In the 1800s, a tumbler was roughly equivalent to a cup.)

By sharing a new recipe from its archives every week, the N-YHS aims to tap into the home cooking boom that's developed during the COVID-19 crisis美女视频黄频大全视频. Every piece that's spotlighted comes from the , which feature recipes handwritten by Eliza Duane, Mary Wells, and Fanny T. Wells between 1840 and 1874. The "manuscript cookbooks" were used as guides for private chefs, and they better reflected the diets of upper-class households than those of middle-class families. In addition to baked goods like lemon cake and fruit cake, the collection also includes medicinal remedies like a "cholera mixture"—a reminder that our current experience with a pandemic isn't unprecedented.

Navigating a recipe with antiquated or missing conventions isn't as easy as looking one up on a food blog, but it can be a rewarding opportunity to connect with the past. And if the final product doesn't turn out quite as promised, it's still an entertaining way to spend time at home. If you're curious to see what people ate during another time of national hardship, here are some historical recipes from the Great Depression.

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Yale Is Offering Its 'Science of Well-Being' Course for Free Online

Chainarong Prasertthai/iStock via Getty Images
Chainarong Prasertthai/iStock via Getty Images

Even if you’ve heard that money or career success won’t necessarily make you happier美女视频黄频大全视频, it’s still hard to resist the impulse to correlate your own well-being to external factors like those. Why are we so bad at predicting what will make us happy, and how can we figure out what actually does the trick?

These are just a couple questions you’ll be able to answer after completing “The Science of Well-Being,” a Yale University course currently being offered for on Coursera. According to , the 10-week course consists of about two to three hours of reading and videos per week, and you can work at your own pace—so you can definitely take advantage of a free weekend to fly through a few weeks’ worth of material at a time, or postpone a lesson if you’re swamped with other work.

The class is taught by Yale psychology professor Laurie Santos, who will lead students through relevant research on how we’re wired to think about our own well-being and teach you how to implement that knowledge to increase happiness in your life. Since the coursework is task-oriented and the course itself is aimed at helping you build more productive habits, it’s an especially good opportunity for anyone who feels a little overwhelmed at how vague a goal to “be happier” can seem.

As for proof that this is definitely an undertaking worth 20 hours of your time, we’ll let the previous students speak for themselves: From 3731 ratings, the course averages 4.9 out of 5 stars.

Though the course is free, an official certificate to mark your completion—which you can then add to your LinkedIn profile—will cost you $50. Enroll on the Coursera , and check out 23 other science-backed ways to feel happier here.

At Mental Floss, we only write about the products we love and want to share with our readers, so all products are chosen independently by our editors. Mental Floss has affiliate relationships with certain retailers and may receive a percentage of any sale made from the links on this page. Prices and availability are accurate as of the time of publication.

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Werewolves of London: How The Everly Brothers and a B-Movie from 1935 Inspired Warren Zevon's Monster Hit

Ah-hoooo! Warren Zevon performing at New York City's Bowery Ballroom in 2000.
Ah-hoooo! Warren Zevon performing at New York City's Bowery Ballroom in 2000.
Hiroyuki Ito/Getty Images

美女视频黄频大全视频In 1975, Phil Everly had a kooky idea. The rock legend best known as one half of The Everly Brothers had just watched the 1935 horror film , and he thought the title and subject matter would make for a great pop song and accompanying dance craze.

Everly shared this brainstorm with his touring keyboard player, a then-unknown musician and songwriter named Warren Zevon. Alongside buddies LeRoy Marinell and Waddy Wachtel, Zevon promptly wrote “Werewolves of London,” a darkly funny ode to a dapper beast who prowls England’s capital city, scarfing down Chinese food and mutilating old ladies.

Three years later, "Werewolves of London" was officially released as part of Zevon’s 1978 album Excitable Boy, and went on to reach #21 on the Billboard Hot 100. It was Zevon’s first and only Top 40 hit, and it followed him throughout his career, returning with a particular vengeance each Halloween. Zevon once described “Werewolves of London”—featuring that irresistible "Ah-hoooo美女视频黄频大全视频" chorus—as a “dumb song for smart people.” It’s certainly that, but it’s also part of a lineage of comedy-horror rock novelties stretching back to the ’50s.


The peak year for silly songs about the supernatural seems to have been 1958, when David Seville’s “” and Sheb Wooley’s “” both reached #1 on the Billboard charts. They would have reigned back-to-back, but another song held the top spot in between them: “All I Have to Do Is Dream” by—you guessed it—The Everly Brothers. Perhaps that explains why Phil Everly knew his werewolf idea had legs.

Fortunately, Zevon and friends didn’t waste a lot of time in writing “Werewolves of London.” The song came together essentially in one day at LeRoy Marinell’s house in Venice Beach, California. Waddy Wachtel—regarded as one of the greatest studio guitarists of all time—stopped by on his way to a different session and found Zevon hanging out. Zevon told Wachtel about the crazy song title Everly had suggested, and Wachtel responded, “‘Werewolves of London?’ You mean like, ‘Ah-hoooo?’”

Warren Zevon performs in support of "The Envoy" release at the Saddle Rack on February 10, 1982 in San Jose California
Warren Zevon performing at the Saddle Rack in San Jose California in 1982.
Tim Mosenfelder/Getty Images

美女视频黄频大全视频That’s exactly what Zevon meant. Wachtel was off and running. First, he told Marinell to play the nifty guitar lick he’d been toying around with for years. As Marinell launched into his now-classic riff, Wachtel began ad-libbing lyrics about a werewolf eating beef chow mein at Lee Ho Fook, a real-life Chinese restaurant in London that's still in operation.

“I had just gotten back from England, so I had all these lyrics in my head," . "So I just spit out that whole first verse. Warren says, 'That's great!' I said, 'Really? OK, fine. There's your first verse. You write the rest. I've gotta go into town.'"

It took just 10 or 15 minutes to finish what Wachtel had started. Zevon penned the second verse, while Marinell took the third, which ends with the classic line, “He'll rip your lungs out, Jim / I'd like to meet his tailor.” When they were done, Warren’s wife Crystal told them how much she liked the song. “Fools that we are, we said, ‘You think it’s so great, why don’t you write it down?’” Marinell recounted in Crystal’s 2008 book I’ll Sleep When I'm Dead: The Dirty Life and Times of Warren Zevon美女视频黄频大全视频. “Otherwise, that song never would have gone anywhere.”

The next day, while recording demos for songs he hoped to sell to The Eagles and Linda Ronstadt, Zevon played “Werewolves of London” for his producer, noted rocker Jackson Browne. Browne dug the song and began performing it sporadically in concert. Nearly three years later, Zevon set about recording it for Excitable Boy.


While “Werewolves of London” was a cinch to write, it proved a bear to record. Browne and Wachtel co-produced Excitable Boy and tried at first to cut the song with drummer Russ Kunkel and bassist Bob Glaub, session aces who had played with superstars like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Rod Stewart. Kunkel and Glaub definitely had the chops, but something wasn’t right.

“It didn’t sound stupid enough; it sounded cute,” Wachtel said. “Jackson was saying, ‘It's really good!’ and Warren and I were saying, ‘No, man, it's too cute. It's got to be ... heavy.’”

A photo of Warren Zevon performing.
Warren Zevon plays his guitar, while dreaming of a piña colada at Trader Vic's.
Hiroyuki Ito/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Wachtel and Browne proceeded to shuffle through session guys, assembling five or six different bands in the hopes of getting the desired level of dumbness. Finally, someone suggested they call bassist John McVie and drummer Mick Fleetwood, the rhythm section from Fleetwood Mac. Wachtel loved the idea, and since he’d just worked with Fleetwood Mac members Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, he knew how to find them.

美女视频黄频大全视频McVie and Fleetwood had the right feel, but they weren’t quite nailing it. The band recorded take after take as the moon went down and night turned to day. “I remember at about 5 in the morning saying to Mick, ‘I think we're done!’” Wachtel said. “And Mick looks at me with that crazy look he gets in his eyes and sort of whispers, ‘We're never done, Waddy!’ I thought, ‘Sh*t, we've got a wild one here!’”

美女视频黄频大全视频After 59 tries, Wachtel and Browne decided to use take #2. Wachtel fared much better recording his guitar solo; he laid it down in a single pass, before he could even sip from the bottle of vodka he had opened. But the song still wasn’t finished. Months later, Zevon called Wachtel out of the blue to say he wasn’t happy with the song’s closing line. Zevon thought it should end with, “I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's, and his hair was perfect.” Wachtel laughed but later realized it was exactly the right line.


Despite all the hard work they had put into recording “Werewolves of London,” Zevon and Wachtel were miffed when Asylum selected the song, which they considered a novelty, as the lead single off Excitable Boy. They would’ve preferred the more serious “Tenderness on the Block.” But from a commercial standpoint, the label’s instincts were correct. “Werewolves of London” spent six weeks on the Hot 100, peaking at #21. In the decades since, it’s never really gone away.

Even as Zevon emerged as a songwriter’s songwriter, developing a loyal fanbase that included Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, and Bob Dylan, “Werewolves of London” remained his calling card. In addition to being a perennial Halloween favorite, it has appeared in numerous TV shows and movies, including the 1986 Martin Scorsese film , starring Paul Newman and Tom Cruise. “Werewolves of London” would have been perfect for John Landis’s 1981 horror comedy An American Werewolf in London, but amazingly, the song wasn’t included.

美女视频黄频大全视频 “Werewolves of London” was especially popular in 1999. In January, Zevon took the stage at Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura’s inaugural ball and played piano as the newly elected leader sang “Werewolves of Minnesota.” Later that year, the minor league baseball team the Kalamazoo Kodiaks moved from Michigan to London, Ontario, and changed their name to the . The squad’s sharply dressed mascot was dubbed Warren Z. Vaughn.

美女视频黄频大全视频When Zevon following a public battle with cancer, “Werewolves of London” was naturally mentioned near the top of almost every obituary. Folks even discussed the song at Zevon’s memorial, which gave Jackson Browne—one of the song’s early champions—a chance to reflect on what the lyrics were truly about. It turns out that the song may have been deeper than anyone ever realized.

美女视频黄频大全视频“It’s about a really well-dressed, ladies’ man, a werewolf preying on little old ladies,” Browne told . “In a way it’s the Victorian nightmare, the gigolo thing. The idea behind all those references is the idea of the ne’er-do-well who devotes his life to pleasure: the debauched Victorian gentleman in gambling clubs and consorting with prostitutes; the aristocrat who squanders the family fortune. All of that is secreted in that one line: ‘I’d like to meet his tailor.’”