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DiggingDogFarm

Food of Appalachia...

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I see there are a few recipes fro Sally-Lunn in there.

Sally-Lunn is the first bread I baked, by myself, from scratch, when I was a young teenager—recipe from James Beard's bread book.

There was something about his description of the bread that made me want to try it.

 

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1 hour ago, gfweb said:

 

Re grits in the North. My grandparents called it “mush” , but it was grits. Sometimes fried and served with syrup.  

 

When I was growing up it was corn meal mush.  I was even taught corn meal mush in home ec class.  With mandatory maple syrup.  Real maple syrup.

 

Scrapple is corn meal mush with flavoring.

 

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Around here, corn meal mush was generally whole corn meal, without the 'hulls' removed, but either form could be called mush.

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7 hours ago, JoNorvelleWalker said:

When I was growing up it was corn meal mush. 


Me too... grits was a separate critter from mush.

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10 hours ago, DiggingDogFarm said:

My paternal Grandmother cooked on a wood-stove most of her life.

My paternal Grandfather farmed with horses until he switched to a couple small Case tractors in 1955.

They lived a VERY simple life.

A small dairy and a couple acres of potatoes.

They raised some chickens, hogs, rabbits, a kitchen garden, etc.

My Grandfather also did odd jobs for folks.

They didn't have running water, an indoor bathroom, electricity, or a propane kitchen stove until about 1970.

I was born in August of 1965 and I can remember having to use the outhouse.

They didn't have a drilled well until sometime in the 80s—just an old hand dug well.

My grandmother was an excellent cook and baker.

My Dad has said, many times, that she could make anything taste good.

Neither my Grandfather or Grandmother drove a vehicle. They never had a license to drive.

My Grandmother passed away in 1974 after several years of poor health—life was never easy for her, she had a very tough life.

After my Grandmother passed away and my Grandfather retired from farming, he became quite a good cook!

I was often very surprised at how good his food was!

As gruff, and tough, and rough-around-the-edges as he was, folks would never have guessed how good of a cook he'd become. 

Good food was one of the very few frequent joys my paternal Grandparents experienced in life.

 

My maternal Grandparents lived an entirely different lifestyle, more "modern" for the times—certainly nothing extravagant.

Sounds much like the paternal side of my family (the Newfoundland side). Though fishing was the mainstay there, and logging in the winter, everybody had a pretty substantial garden that contributed mightily to the family diet. Foraged fruit and berries were important too.

 

For the record, I'm a couple of years older and can remember several years of sketchy or no indoor plumbing. The outhouse - and worse, the pot under the bed - are both pretty clear memories. For rural Atlantic Canadians, that's pretty common. There is a large family in Nova Scotia whose surname is Outhouse, and I've often reflected how unfortunate it is that they'd live in a place where their namesake is still a living reality. :P

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"The outhouse - and worse, the pot under the bed"  The thunder Mug always seemed to me to be a better choice (in theory) than the outhouse on a cold night. - @chromedome


Edited by gfweb (log)

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Kind of a Hobson's choice, really..."Do I freeze my butt outside for the next few minutes, or stay in here where it's warm but then smell it all night while I'm trying to sleep...?"

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Interesting that the dish pictured on the cover of Victuals is something we ate VERY frequently, in season, at the family farm (and at home) — that or something similar.

Raw milk, ham (or bacon), peas, new potatoes, and onions.

Or raw milk and peas.

Or raw milk and new potatoes.

Or raw milk and tender young green beans

Or some combination.

Etcetera.

What she calls "killed" lettuce, we call "wilted" lettuce.

The cooking is very much the same.

The main differences are things like collards (other greens are used—but collards are not unheard of here), okra (various other things are used instead of okra) and sorghum molasses (It's not unheard of here, but maple syrup and honey are MUCH more common!!!)


Edited by DiggingDogFarm (log)

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Way outside the lines but growing up off the East End of Long Island we also made wilted lettuce salads.

Does anyone else have experience with what we called poor man's stew?  Tried out salt pork, fresh small potatoes, last of the rutabagas, carrots, onions and green beans.

Where I live now we are just out of the picture though Sussex County - less than a mile away - is in.  All the Kittatinny mountains down into PA....  You can get Lebanon bologna as well as Taylor Pork roll around here.

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On 1/30/2019 at 9:17 AM, chromedome said:

Kind of a Hobson's choice, really..."Do I freeze my butt outside for the next few minutes, or stay in here where it's warm but then smell it all night while I'm trying to sleep...?"

 

When my Father was young, they (him and his brothers and sister) ran to the outhouse, any time of day, any time of year, in their bare feet!


Edited by DiggingDogFarm (log)
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2 hours ago, DiggingDogFarm said:

When my Father was young, they (him and his brothers and sister) ran to the outhouse, any time of day, any time of year, in their bare feet!

 

The outhouse, as it sat, a couple years ago.

My Dad snapped the photo.

 

Outhouse (2).jpg

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2 hours ago, DiggingDogFarm said:

 

The outhouse, as it sat, a couple years ago.

My Dad snapped the photo.

 

Outhouse (2).jpg

No honeysuckle around it?  At her grandparent's farm that was what was planted around the privy and my mom hated the smell of honeysuckle for the rest of her life for that reason.

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4 minutes ago, suzilightning said:

No honeysuckle around it?  At her grandparent's farm that was what was planted around the privy and my mom hated the smell of honeysuckle for the rest of her life for that reason.

That's a pic taken quite late in the season with some very tall goldenrod and stuff.

There's some honeysuckle there, somewhere. 

:)

ETA: And that area of the lawn certainly isn't groomed as it once was.

Less lawn work for my uncle.


Edited by DiggingDogFarm (log)

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And where is the "official" crescent moon cut into the door?  

We came back here in 1964 to visit my in-laws.  They had recently

bought a farm and it had no electricity and only an outhouse.

Was sure an eye opening and nose holding experience  for this

California  girl.

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