Another book, though, pretty much made me lose my faith in Amish cooking. You would expect a horse-and-buggy belief system that bans worldly things like telephones to stay true to real ingredients, especially in a collection of recipes built around the seasons. But you would misunderestimate the corrupting reach of Big Food. In donkey’s years I would never expect to come across “1 package taco seasoning” in a book filled with Martha-worthy photos of laundry hanging on clotheslines, and wringer washers, and chickens in the yard. Let alone Bisquick and M&M’s and cream of mushroom soup. How are you gonna keep them on the farm once they’ve tried Velveeta?