½ cup salt
vinegar
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon celery seed
1 tablespoon mustard seed
1 cup grated horse radish
Remove the seeds and skin from the cucumbers and chop. Also chop peppers and onions. Add salt, mix well, and let stand overnight. Drain, add other ingredients, and mix with enough vinegar to have moisture but not watery. Seal in jars.
TOMATO CATSUP
Tomatoes, enough to make a gallon when cooked
½ cup sugar
2 tablespoons ground mustard
1 tablespoon ground allspice
1 pint cider vinegar
3 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon black pepper
½ tablespoon ground cloves
Select good, firm ripe tomatoes. Scald and strain through a coarse sieve to remove seed and skin. When cold, add to each gallon of tomatoes the above ingredients. Let simmer slowly for three hours. Seal in bottles or jars.
PRESERVING FRUIT
BLEACHING
MRS. TOM KELLY: “Peel and core apples; cut into quarters or eighths. Fill a ten gallon wooden tub with sliced apples; then put two tablespoons of sulfur in a saucer and strike a match and set th’ sulfur on fire. Cover th’ tub with a clean cloth and let it stay all day. At night, take th’ sulfur saucer out. Repeat the process for three days. Then transfer th’ apples to large jars and tie clean cloths over them. You could eat that any time in th’ year or winter without any preservation.
“Everbody nearly bleached fruits. And it was th’ sulfur that whited th’ apples, and they had a little sulfur flavor. But most of th’ people had a big tub of that made every year.”
MRS. CARRIE DILLARD GARRISON: “Another way we had of preserving fruits was to burn coals until there wasn’t any smoke, any fumes, or anything from it—hickory coals usually. Hickory coals would hold th’ heat longer and stay alive longer, so we’d put those under a barrel [in the bottom of a barrel]; and then we’d have our fruit cut in small pieces, and put it in an open basket. We used split baskets, y’know, made out a’oak splits, and we’d put th’ fruit in that and hang it in th’ top a’th’ barrel. But we’d sprinkle our sulfur over th’ coals first; then we’d hang th’ fruit in th’ barrel, and then we’d cover th’ fruit with a old sheet or somethin’ to hold th’ fumes in there, and let it stay in there about twenty, thirty minutes. Then we’d take it out and pack it in a wooden barrel usually. We didn’t have churns or anything like that to put it in. They were scarce. So we’d pack ours in a wooden barrel we’d made—a homemade barrel—and we’d fix a barrel full of each fruit, and they wouldn’t any insects or anything bother it. All y’had to do was keep it covered tight—keep things out of it, like mice and things like that.
“We’d make pies; cook it for breakfast. Or it just taste like fresh apples. It’d be white though—th’ apples’d be white. It’d take all th’ color out of them.”
MRS. ALGIE NORTON: “You’d take a box about two foot high and about two foot wide—a wooden box. Then y’put’cha somethin’ to hold your fruit up about six inches from th’ bottom; y’put’cha somethin’ that ya’ can put’cha some coals in—not blazin’, but burnt coals. And y’have to pare your apples and peel them and core them—cut’em in about eight pieces to the apple. And y’gotta have some kind of a rack—course now y’use a screen wire to go over a little frame with about an inch or two sides around it. And put your screen over th’ bottom and put’cher apples in that.
“And y’have your live coals and put about two heapin’ spoonfuls of sulfur in amon’ th’ coals, and it blazes up for a minute. An’ set your apples down, an’ cover your box good, but you wanta paste that box with paper or somethin’ so that no air can escape. An’ cover it up an’ let it set about thirty minutes an’ put in more sulfur—an’ do that for two or three times.
“Then y’take ya’apples out’n pack’m in jars and put a cover over, an’ they’ll keep til spring.”
Later, Mrs. Norton added that if screen was not available, a person might use the same short-sided wooden box, but mount a slat bottom in it rather than a screen one. The bottom might even be a solid piece with holes bored in it—anything so that the fumes from the sulfur could get to the fruit. She also warned that the fruit must be stirred each time fresh sulfur was added, and that a quilt could be used to cover the box if one wished.
Mrs. Gatha Nichols added one twist to bleaching fruit for the person who wants to do it only on a small scale. For this person, she recommends the use of a churn, a teacup with sulfur and a single coal, and a cloth to cover the churn with.
DRYING
We have been fascinated by the sight of trays of sliced fruit drying in front of a fireplace. At one time this was an extremely common way of preserving foods for the winter. Now, although it is no longer a necessity, some mountain people continue the habit. Mrs. Grover Bradley, who had both a churn and several trays of sliced apples warming beside her fireplace when we last visited with her, said, “We had to eat things like that. They wadn’t no other way to live. We dried everything.”
APPLES—Apples are either sliced up into thin slivers, or cored and sliced into rings. One woman claimed that with a peeler, she could core, peel, and slice a bushel of apples in fifty-four minutes.
The rings were strung on a broomstick or a pole; slices were spread out on boards. Then they were set out in the sun or in front of the fireplace, depending on the weather, until the slices were brown and rubbery. This usually took two to three days. Some people say that they brought the fruit in at night to protect it from the dampness. Others simply covered the fruit with canvas at night. While drying, it was turned over frequently so that it would dry evenly.
One woman used to heat the dried slices in the oven for a few minutes at 225° to kill any germs. Other just packed them without heating. When dry, the apples were usually taken up and stored in sacks for use during the winter.
As Mrs. Grover Bradley said, “That makes th’ best fried pies I ever eat.”
Peaches were dried just like apples. Small berries such as blackberries were simply spread out on boards to dry and were not sliced.
USING SYRUP
CROCK GRAPES—Collect dry, sound fox grapes. Pack them in a churn and pour boiling hot fresh molasses or syrup over them. Take two clean cloths; dip the first in hot beeswax and the second in hot tallow, and tie each cloth separately around the top of the churn.
Make this in the fall when the grapes are fresh and ripe. Then set the churn in a cool place until winter. They can be eaten during the winter after they are mildly fermented.
APPLE BUTTER
I’ve eaten apple butter all my life. Both my grandmother and mother have made it, but I had never seen it made in a brass kettle until I went to Rogersville, Tennessee. We were very lucky to find Mr. and Mrs. Pat Brooks, their family and grandchildren, who still make it the old-time way.
“Back years ago, you either made it or you didn’t eat it. This day and time everybody has got enough money. They don’t have to work like us poor folks. Nobody wants to take the time to make it, but they’ve all got their hand out for a jar.”
Pat was humorous and fun to be with. “Well, Honey, I’m going to tell you something. My daddy was this way [humorous] and I ain’t never seen a stranger in my life. Just enjoy your life, for when you’re dead, you can’t.”
Obviously he lives by his word. “I have fun everywhere I go. That’s what we’re here for.”
I remember when I was left in charge of the tape recorder, Pat asked me, “You got your tape recorder on? You want to give me some sugar!” Pat just naturally does things like that.
As we were pouring the apple sauce into the brass kettle to cook, he told us about a trick he pulled on his wife. “Now I’ve got to tell you about my wife when she put on her first pair of shorts. She came outside and when she did, I just wheeled my chair around in front of the door. Here come these people down the road in a car. Sh
e was just a’jerking me trying to get in the house, so in order for them to see her [wearing shorts], I just screamed and hollered like I was dying, so they would look. And she said, ‘I’ll never put the dern things on again, I bet you.’ ”
We were taking turns at stirring the apple butter when he brought out a rolling pin that belonged to his grandmother. “I’d like to sell this rolling pin. We’re going to have a little auction. What do you bid?”
ILLUSTRATION 15 The apples must first be washed and peeled.
Bids started at five cents and ended with $4.75.
… going once, going twice, gone—sold to Laurie.
Later he told his wife, “We had a sale here a while ago—a rolling pin. I got three neck hugs, four squeezes and nine kisses with it.”
After the first stir came off the fire, everyone was sampling the product with hot, homemade biscuits. Meanwhile, Pat had gone in the house and brought out his banjo and was making a deal with Barbara and Mary to buck dance. We had our own little outdoor concert. He sang a couple of songs, gave us each some apple butter, and we were on our way back home.
VIVIAN BURRELL
The making of apple butter was once a quite common event. We talked to a number of people about it, and we found that, in addition to the Brooks method (illustrated in this chapter), there were many variations.
Pauline Henson and Mrs. Charlie Ross Hartley of Vilas, North Carolina, for example, used molasses instead of sugar. Here’s their recipe:
Wash, slice, core and peel the required number of apples. Put a little water in the brass kettle first and heat, and then add the slices of apple filling the kettle nearly full. Cook them down, and stir them to prevent sticking. After they are cooked down, add molasses to thicken. The molasses is added after the apples are cooked down to keep the butter from being lumpy.
Just before it’s done, add sticks of cinnamon to taste. Then, when it’s so thick you can almost cut it with a knife, put it up in half gallon or gallon crocks; place a cloth over the top, and seal the crocks with paraffin.
ILLUSTRATION 16 The apples are cooked on a stove for fifteen to twenty minutes, then run through a colander.
They can also remember apple butter being made in the molasses boiler during the last runs to get rid of the extra apples and keep them from going to waste.
Aunt Arie made hers in an iron washpot instead of a brass kettle, as she never had one of the latter. She told us:
“We always had so many good apples. See, we had an apple orchard there at home. We had hundreds of bushels of apples, till it come that storm and blowed the trees all up and Ulysses never did set’em back out. The few trees that were left made up more than we could use and he got old and crippled on both sides, couldn’t dig much. And you can’t hire people to do what you want done. You just have to do what you can do. Of course, we had plenty of apples. We’ve done away with three hundred bushels in one year. I tell you, I got so tired of picking up apples and carrying them to the house and giving them to everybody in Georgia and everywhere else, till I was glad when they were gone! Now that’s the truth. Of course, I was stout then and could do it, but you done so much of it, you got tired of it. What I mean, you got give out of it—I’ll put it that way. Your strength give out.
ILLUSTRATION 17 The applesauce is poured into a twenty-gallon brass kettle heated by an open fire. (The kettle must be cleaned with a solution of vinegar and baking soda prior to use.) Mrs. Brooks said, “Brass is the only kind [of kettle] I would have. It just makes better butter somehow. I don’t like a copper kettle because it makes the butter taste, I think.”
Pat told us, “You can use any kind of wood for the fire except pine. [Pine would make the butter taste.] Don’t let the wood touch the bottom of the kettle or the butter will burn.”
ILLUSTRATION 18 Pat made the butter-stirring stick himself out of cypress. Wood with acid in it can’t be used because it will impart a taste. He likes yellow poplar the best.
ILLUSTRATION 19 (Top) Pat’s stirring stick. (Bottom) The applesauce is constantly stirred until it’s hot enough to melt sugar. Then, using one five-pound bag at a time at regular intervals, fifty pounds of sugar are poured in. The mixture must cook for about two hours, stirring it constantly.
“When you stir, you go once on one side, once on the other side, and once in the middle. You see, the bottom is narrow, and that way it won’t stick.”
ILLUSTRATION 20 As the apple butter cooks, Pat brings out his banjo to liven up the proceedings.
ILLUSTRATION 21 After two hours’ cooking, the mixture is taken off the fire, and 4¼ fluid ounces of imitation oil of cinnamon (used by the Brooks) or other desired flavor is added.
“Use good ripe, soft apples. Peel the apples and cut them up—not too fine. Add just enough water to prevent the apples from sticking while they cook. When the apples begin cooking good, mash them with a potato masher as fine as possible. Make the apple butter thick. Then add lots of sorghum to it for sweetening (if you don’t, it’ll sour). If you don’t get the apple butter good and thick, and boil it down good, a five-gallon jarful will sour. Add ground cinnamon for flavoring. If you can’t get cinnamon, use lemon.
“To store it, use five six-gallon crocks; tie the tops with cloth, then cover with paper and tie with string. When we wanted apple butter, we opened a crock and got out a bowlful, ate it, and went back for more.
“Lord, they loved apple butter at my house, mercy alive. See, there was so many boys and you know what boys will do. And Papa loved it! I can eat apple butter, but I never did love it like they did.”
The Brooks family has been making apple butter every year for over forty years.
It takes three bushels of apples to make a stir. You can keep the apples for three or four days before using them in the apple butter. Mrs. Brooks explains, “I wouldn’t have nothing but the Winesaps. That’s the only kind that makes good butter. The other kind won’t cook up good. Sour apples do. An apple that has a sweet taste to it [won’t] make good butter.”
Mrs. Brooks says, “Sometimes [we sell it], but most of the time we keep it. The family likes it. They must; every time I turn around they’re asking for some.”
I understand!
Aunt Arie also told us of other recipes that were brought to mind when we asked her about apple butter. “Now another thing that really I like a little better in one way is apple preserves. You make preserves out of the kind of apples that don’t cook all to pieces—that stay whole.
“You peel the apples and cut them up into little pieces—they don’t cook up. Put cinnamon or whatever you want to flavor them with. We put them in big old jars and tied them up. People don’t can stuff now like they did then. Of course, if I was to make apple butter now, I’d want to put it in smaller jars and seal them up. And then eat it. You’d have it good all the time. Apple preserves are good!
“I’ve helped make gallons of apple cider. You have to have a cider mill to grind up your apples most of the time. Squeeze that all out and put it up. It’s hard to make. I don’t like apple cider much. Boys, they loved it at home, though. We’d make it by the gallons. We’d fix the apples and put them in a big old wooden trough. We’d take a maul and beat up them apples and make cider out of them. They’d strain the cider out and put it in jugs or whatever they wanted to keep it in. How they did love it! Especially when it’s sharp, as they called it. They left it till some of it commenced to sour just a little [and then they really enjoyed it.]
ILLUSTRATION 22 The apple butter is now done and ready to be poured into jars. Each stir (three bushels of apples) yields about seventy-five jars.
ILLUSTRATION 23 “It’s s’good that if you put some on your forehead, your tongue would slap your brains out trying t’get to it!” PAT BROOKS.
“You make pumpkin butter like you do apple butter. Cut the pumpkin up and peel it and cook that good. Then just mash it up and put sugar and flavoring in. That’s all you have to do. We always made ours with cinnamon, and how good it was! Really p
umpkin butter is easier to make than apple butter. We grew as high as a hundred big pumpkins in one year. We’d make it up to last a year and eat it every bit up before spring. We’d have to make a’many a gallon to have enough to do us a year, ’cause we loved it. Then there was so many of us. You take a houseful of boys—they eat something!”
SORGHUM
At one time, syrup made from juice crushed out of sorghum cane was highly prized as a sugar substitute and sweetener. In some communities, aside from honey, it was the only sweet substance available, as sugar cost money, and money was the rarest commodity of all.
Some families in the mountains still produce sorghum (or molasses) for their own use, but the method of production, in most cases, has undergone some refinements. Nowadays, the mills that are used to crush the juice out of the cane are, more often than not, run by a gasoline engine or a belt connected to the power take-off of a tractor. Years ago, the rollers of the mill were turned by a horse or mule. The animal was hitched to the end of a long rein pole or “sweep.” A rod mounted horizontally in, and at right angles to, the butt end of the sweep was tied to a line that went to the horse’s halter so that as the horse pulled the lead end of the sweep forward, the line connected to the butt end would keep him pulling himself around in a never-ending circle (see Illustration 24 and 25). The sweep turned a crusher roller in the mill, which in turn engaged a second (and sometimes a third) roller, forcing it to turn also. The cane was fed in between the rollers and crushed dry of its juice.
Since few people could afford these mills, it was common that men who owned one would move them from settlement to settlement, grinding and making the syrup for everyone in the area. In return, they were given a “toll”—usually every fourth gallon—in payment. Those who had helped the farmer harvest his cane were also paid in syrup. Making it was a long, slow process, however. Many mills could only turn out about sixteen gallons a day.
Pickling and Preserving: The Foxfire Americana Library (3) Page 4