Betty led me astray

Betty misled me. Because the Betty Crocker cookbook recipes were so tested and tested, no recipe ever went wrong, so long as the instructions were followed. We were always shooed away when adults were cooking. They didn't use cookbooks. They made biscuits, custards, sauces, cakes with cooked frostings, fudge, and gazillions and gazillions of lard-crust pies, at least two or three a week, and never looked at a cookbook. One aunt possessed what was probably a first-edition Boston Cooking School Cookbook (Fannie Famer), but it never came down from the shelf. When I dig out the only one that I knew as a kid, although I never saw it used, I'll be interested in seeing just what it is. The cover is a yellow-and-something pseudo-tartan along the lines of some cheery Russel Wright breakfast set from the 'Fifties, but I bet this book is from before the War. How did Betty lead me astray? I thought all cookbooks were as foolproof and planned to cook up a dinner for guests from my new present, Mastering the Art of French Cooking (Julia), and I didn't find that to be completely mistake-proof for me. Let's just forget the details!