A Smorgasbord! 1988 Chef Boyardee

From the 1970s through the 1990s, it seemed like you could find your favorite baseball stars on food product packaging everywhere you looked: supermarkets, corner stores, restaurants, and beyond. This past year, in an effort to capture a little more nostalgia, I set a goal to expand my own collection of these "food-issue" cards. In this series I'll show the specific examples I've acquired, and share a little bit of history about the food or beverage sponsor as well. 

Previous entries can be found here.

 

 

 

School is back in session. 

The first few weeks are always overwhelming—not only for you, but also for mom and dad. They do a lot to get you ready every morning. Then once you're out the door, they work even harder. And sometimes they work late. It's a marvel that mom gets a nice, home-cooked meal together as much as she does.

But on the occasions when she can't, you do get something out of it.

Chef Boyardee!

You know it's not the best for you, but it tastes good, and you consider it a silver lining to the hectic nature of the week. And tonight, the cloud is lined with even more silver: There's a baseball card offer on the back of the can!

You read the details more closely.

If you send in 10 proofs of purchase from Chef Boyardee products, plus $1.50 for postage, the company will send you a sheet of 24 baseball cards featuring all the stars of the day. 

 

You stop and think. The $1.50 for shipping isn't a big deal. You can earn that. But then you need 10 proofs of purchase from Chef Boyardee products. Ten?? Wow.

You don't want to wish busy days on mom and dad, but man, do you ever want those cards. So for the next month you pick your spots to ask for a can of Boyardee wisely, mention the card set, and exhibit as much patience as you can. You even convince a couple of your friends to clip proofs of purchase from the Boyardee cans at their homes and bring them to you, in exchange for a couple of baseball cards from your collection.

And finally, you have enough proofs of purchase and the $1.50. Everything goes into an envelope, and you wait.

Fast-forward to mid-November, and your package arrives. You tear it open excitedly, toss aside some filler paper, pull the panel of cards out, and . . .

. . . you're less than thrilled. 

All you see are the heads and shoulders of each player (sometimes just the heads!), and the logos have been removed from their caps. On top of that, some of the photographs are a little dark. Others are grainy. Maybe you notice all of those negatives a little bit more because the 24 players are right next to each other on one big panel. So you make a decision.

You're going to separate the cards, using the perforations provided.

After you carefully do that, you stack the cards up and flip through them. Still not great, but it does feel a little better somehow. You decide to keep a few, like the Mattingly and the Ozzie Smith. But some of the others? You wouldn't mind trading them. And you already might have a taker at school.

Your trade negotiation the next day is fruitful. Here are the two cards you'll be offering up:

It's trade time. You take a look at the stats on the back once more before handing the cards over.

Not bad. The text feels a little smaller and more sparse than the standard Topps card, though. It's just one more reason why you don't mind trading them away. That's especially true because you pick up these sweet cards in return:

 

Yeah, they've still got the airbrushed caps, but at least you see more of the uniforms, and the photo quality is better. On top of that, the card design is more fun, front and back. 

 

 

  

Besides, how many of your classmates have True Value cards in their collection? Feels like a fair trade.

You put them safely in the small zippered pocket of your backpack, and head home. The weather is pretty mild, and you haven't been on the baseball diamond lately. Your schedule for the rest of the day?

• Get home
• Put Madlock and Gibson in shoe box
• Do homework 
• Show homework to mom
• Ask if you can go to the baseball field before dinner
• If yes, get changed and go
• Be back before sundown

You only have about an hour before it gets dark, but it'll be worth it.

As for the Chef Boyardee brand, did you know that the guy on the logo was an actual chef? 

 

 

The company was founded in 1928 by an Italian immigrant named Hector Boiardi and his brothers. (The Americanized "Boyardee" was created to make pronunciation a little easier for customers.) 

 

Mr. Boiardi owned a restaurant back then, and he'd been jarring his delicious spaghetti sauce in re-used milk bottles. Eventually, demand for his food inspired him to create a packaged meal kit. Along with the sauce, it included dried spaghetti and Parmesan cheese. The kit helped countless families sustain themselves during the Great Depression. As if that weren't enough, the company supplied rations to the US Army during World War II.

 

I only knew the Boyardee brand for its fun ravioli and meatball/pasta products from the 1980s. But now I certainly have a greater appreciation for the man and the company.

 

How about you readers? Ever have a Chef Boyardee product when you were a kid? 

 

Do you have any of the baseball cards from this set in your collection?

 

Share in the comment section, and thanks for reading.