Corruption at an early age is the most likely result of adopting McCleary's concept of ""fun"" cooking. Her recipes include several popular standards, both decent (Western omelet) and awful (sloppy Joes), but what she adds to the list is pseudogourmet glop and middle-Americanized ethnic gimmickery. (That already mongrelized concoction, chop suey, is baked here, and composed of ground beef, two canned soups, minute rice, canned Chinese noodles, and soy sauce.) McCleary gives a tossed salad a Texas flavor by adding ground beef and taco chips. She ""drizzles"" skewered ""Franks-'n'-Bobs"" with crushed pineapple, uses canned tomato soup in spaghetti sauce and chili, puts mandarin orange sections in spinach salad, and makes a dessert more ""elegant"" by topping it with cherry-pie filling. The gimmicky format (""When you get to the end, turn the book around and start through in the other direction"") is a minor consideration; whether the metric measurements are considered an advantageous preview of things to come or a confusing nuisance, the recipes won't educate the palate.