Ration-Friendly Christmas Dinner From World War I: Seven Recipes That Shaped a Nation's Holiday

An online exhibit from the National WWI Museum and Memorial in Kansas City revisits a little-known 1918 cookbook, Win the War in the Kitchen, and the wartime philosophy behind it. The book was part of a broader mobilization of food conservation as the United States shipped more supplies to troops overseas during World War I. The museum’s online exhibit War Fare: From the Home Front to the Frontlines gathers the backstory and the dishes that families reportedly prepared for Christmas that year, showing how a holiday table could feel festive while reflecting national sacrifice.

Backed by the U.S. Food Administration and endorsed by leaders such as Herbert Hoover and President Woodrow Wilson, the cookbook urged households to save wheat, sugar, meat and fats so food could reach soldiers and sustain the war effort. The text framed thrift as patriotic, emphasizing that fats were precious and that saving even a single ounce of sugar could be part of one’s war service. The collection drew contributions from food companies, Red Cross dietitians, women’s auxiliaries and magazines of the era, all underscoring the shared duty of American families to adapt their meals.

Among the exhibit’s focal points are seven dishes that would have appeared on some 1918 American Christmas tables. A relish tray sat at the center of gatherings, stocked with pickles, celery, carrots, olives, nuts and fruit. It relied on preserved foods and avoided wheat, meat and sugar, serving as a prefiguring of the later charcuterie boards that would become popular decades afterward. The cookbook’s tone—practical, economical and festive—echoed the era’s broader message that everyday meals could be both comforting and contributing to the war effort. A maple syrup cake with maple icing offered a seasonal treat while aligning with the book’s call to sweeten with maple syrup, honey or molasses instead of frosting heavy on refined sugar.

The seven listed dishes illustrate a blend of thrift and flavor. Corn fritters appeared as a simple, wheat-saving side, with the cookbook noting that many people manage well without wheat and that it won’t harm a family to cook without it. The buckwheat chocolate cake offered a more indulgent option that used buckwheat, rye, cornmeal and oatmeal as flour alternatives—a nod to rethinking baking during shortages. The instructions even encouraged turning such recipes into muffins, reflecting flexibility in home kitchens. In the museum’s view, those substitutions remain practical today for busy households seeking quick, affordable options.

Further into the holiday menu, Puritan turkey stuffing embodied conservation by using cornmeal, oatmeal, stale bread, chopped nuts and turkey drippings rather than relying on turkey meat itself. The stuffing aimed to be economical yet celebratory, illustrating how a festive centerpiece could be built from scraps and pantry staples alike. The meat section showcased regional and practical choices, listing chicken and turkey alongside venison, rabbit and squab. Families sometimes served possum, tongue or wild duck as a way to stretch provisions and honor local traditions. The cookbook’s meat selections underscored the era’s broader reality: Americans drew on regional abundance and prepared to make use of every part of the animal.

The plum pudding, a longtime Christmas staple, appeared in dried-fruit form—prunes, raisins and dates—aligning with the era’s emphasis on preserving and using available ingredients. As Lora Vogt, the museum’s vice president of education and interpretation, notes, the collection reflects the wider tapestry of American life at the time: it was not just about food, but about the memories and people gathered around the table. She mentions that the nation’s leadership, including Hoover, promoted participation by households rather than dictating instructions, inviting families to support national ideals by changing how they ate. The essence of the era, Vogt adds, was communal, with soldiers abroad often eating whatever was available, from snails in Paris to donuts from Salvation Army tents—every meal a link between home front and front lines.

As Americans prepare to celebrate the nation’s 250th year, the wartime recipes offer a historical window into a traditional holiday menu that balanced familiar flavors with wartime restraint. The dishes reveal how families reconciled nostalgia with necessity, creating dishes that felt special even as they conserved resources. The evidence of that era’s creativity lives on in the online exhibit War Fare: From the Home Front to the Frontlines and in the National WWI Museum and Memorial’s preservation of Win the War in the Kitchen, which continues to inform today’s conversations about food, memory and national identity. The stories extend beyond the kitchen: they illuminate how food can be a form of citizenship, a way to honor service and a reflection of the diverse regional and cultural backgrounds that shaped American life during the war.

For visitors and researchers, the online exhibit provides a curated glimpse into a moment when households took up a form of culinary patriotism—one that relied on imagination, resourcefulness and shared purpose around the holiday table. The past, it suggests, can offer insight into how communities balance tradition with change, and how a simple dinner can become a larger statement of national unity.

The exhibit closes with an invitation to explore further: to see how the home front fed soldiers, how families adapted to shortages, and how those choices shaped the way Americans think about food, holiday memory and civic duty. Whether one views these recipes as historical curiosity or as a blueprint for resourceful cooking, the core message remains clear: during times of hardship, culture and cuisine can reinforce shared values and keep traditions alive even as they evolve.