Showing posts with label cranberry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cranberry. Show all posts

Monday, November 19, 2012

Continuing with "It's An Old New England Custom"

Chapter-To Serve Turkey and Cranberry Sauce


"Thanksgiving has, of course, always been the time par excellence for food in new England, with roast turkey the traditional piece de resistance of the feast. Even the puritans forgot their fear of sensualism at Thanksgiving, abandoning themselves with gusto to the pleasures of the table, though there were times when the country was a desert island for food, and the colonists, like castaways, were in no danger of overeating.
There seems, however, to have been an abundance of provender at the first Pilgrim Thanksgiving at Plymouth in 1621, which was not an affair of a single day, but lasted a whole week, and, contrary to what many persons think, was without any religious significance. It was simply a period of relaxation and recreation following the gathering of the first harvest.

Edward Winslow wrote to a friend in England on December 11, 1621, in which he said:

'Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after we had gathered the fruits of our labors. They four killed as much fowl as with a little help beside served the company about a week. At which time among other recreations we exercised our arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest king Massasoyt with some ninety mean, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five deer which they brought and bestow'd on our governor, and upon the captains and others.'
Since Governor Bradford mentioned that 'beside waterfoule there was great store of wild turkies' that fall, we may be certain that the men he sent out to make provision for the feast succeeded in bagging enough unsuspecting turkeys to make the tables groan.
Other writers of the period have told of the great flocks of wild turkey that inhabited the oak and chestnut forests of New England. So common were they that in the 1730's, dressed wild turkeys sold for only a penny and a half a pound in western Massachusetts. The price, of course, increased as the wild turkey population decreased , and by the close of the eighteenth century they were bringing fourpence per pound. In 1820, when these great game birds were rapidly vanishing, the price had risen to twelve and a half cents a pound and it became less common to see wild turkey wings used as hearth brushes in New England homes."


By the end of the eighteenth century the wild turkey of New England, which had been retreating steadily westward, reached the line of the Connecticut River, where they made their last stand. There were flocks of them in the Berkshires and the mountainous regions of Vermont and among the hills of the Connecticut Valley. In the lifetime of the writer's grandfather, there were still wild turkeys around Mount Holyoke and Mount Tom. During the winter of 1850-1851, the last one was shot on Mount Tom. A turkey killed on Mount Holyoke in 1863 is thought to have been a fugitive from a barnyard.
Before the wild species was exterminated, they sometimes visited their civilized relatives of the barnyard. In the mating season a wild turkey cock would fly in and strut and gobble and fight the domestic cock for the favors of the females. The wild gobbler always won, and in this way the domestic species was invigorated and kept up to scratch.


In the olden times the New England housewife never had to worry about the Thanksgiving turkey being too large to fit her oven because she cooked it over an open fire. Families were larger then, and big birds favored. But the oven problem brought about an annual Thanksgiving invocation just before the festival of 1945. This was the sale of split turkeys occasioned by the great number of extraordinarily large birds coming into the market. Raised to meet the requirements of the armed forces, these birds were released for civilian consumption as a result of the sudden end of the war.

Marketmen, knowing that many housewives had ovens too small to accommodate such whopping birds, split the oversize turkeys in two, and the housewives, agreeing that half a turkey was better than none, bought the bisected, although they were uncertain how to prepare half a bird for the table and were apprehensive that it might dry unduly while cooking. All apparently turned out well, but in the future smaller turkeys will probably be the rule.

Pie, especially pumpkin pie, was considered as essential to the old-fashioned New England Thanksgiving dinner as turkey and cranberry sauce.

A want of molasses with which to make pies was more than once the cause of a New England town postponing its observance of the day. Once at Newberry, Vermont, when the minister read the Thanksgiving proclamation, a worthy deacon, who was not unmindful of the earthly pleasure to be derived from a good dinner, rose and said that as there was no molasses in town and his boys had gone to Charlestown, New Hampshire, to get some, he would move that Thanksgiving be postponed a week.

When the boys did not return, the day was put off again, until finally the people fo Newberry had to go without their molasses, and, since there was no 'sweetnin', presumable also without the customary pumpkin pies. Once can only guess what happened to the boys. Similarly, at Colchester, Connecticut, the celebration of Thanksgiving was delayed a week beyond the appointed day because a sloop from New York with a hogshead of molasses for pies failed to arrive.
An amusing account of a public dinner given in 1714, at which bear meat and venison were eaten, has come down to us from the pen of the Rev. Lawrence Conant of Danvers, Massachusetts, who was evidently not averse to eating game that had been killed on the Sabbath.


'When ye services at ye meeting house were ended,' he wrote, 'ye council and other dignitaries were entertained at ye house of Mr. Epes, on ye hill near by, and we had a bountiful Thanksgiving dinner with bear's meat and venison, the last of which was a fine buck, shot in ye woods near by. Ye bear was killed in Lynn woods near Reading.
The First Church in Salem

After ye blessing was craved by Mr. Garrick of Wrentham, word came that ye buck was shot on ye Lord's day by Pequot, an Indian, who came to Mr. Epes with a lye in his moth like Ananias of old. Ye council therefore refused to eat ye venison, but it was afterward decided that Pequot should receive 40 stripes save one, for lying and profaning ye Lord's day, restore Mr. Epes ye cost of ye deer, and considering this a just and righteous sentence on ye sinful heathen, and that a blessing had been craved on ye meat, ye council all partook of it but Mr. Shepard, whose conscious was tender on ye point of ye venison.'

Thanksgiving did not immediately become a fixed annual festival in new England after the first Pilgrim observance, but it made headway steadily. It proved popular because it was a substitute for the festival of Christmas, which the Puritans had banished. It was as if they said, 'If we can't have Christmas, we will have our own feast.' The idea of a Thanksgiving Day for the Lord's bounties gradually spread throughout the country until this old New England custom became a national one."

Pink Memories

Ever since I can remember, my mother made Divinity. She called it Divinity Fudge, while others in the family called it Divinity Candy or just Divinity. It was strictly white with little flavor other than that of sweetened meringue. But while I was growing up, that was enough. We didn’t have our choice of candies at the drop of a dime during my adolescence, so any sweet treat was a delight.
As many of you now know, I strongly advocate Breast Cancer Awareness and I am happy to be at the Susan G. Komen’s beck-and-call when it comes to publicizing awareness, hence my pink chef’s coat. Every year during the Holidays, I tenderly think of my mother, and the sad struggle she must have lived with, not only because of the physical pain of her breast cancer, but the emotional toil of knowing she wouldn’t be there for her children, as they aged, learned and grew. Thinking of your children living their lives without your physical presence must be a trial that seems to know no resolve.

Even though our smiles are quick to produce while thinking of how she made these confections and the smile she had when watching us devour them, it just as quickly fades when we look up and don’t see her there. Even now, I would give the world to take a bite, move my eyes to the left or to the right and tell Mom, “thanks”.
So with a warm embrace and nostalgic memories, here are two Yanked recipes for Divinity in honor of those struggling. I invite all those to make these confections in honor of breast cancer awareness and the memories of those who have and continue to struggle.
I am going to give you two recipes, one for the children to enjoy and one for the adults. Since I changed the original divinity recipe to make it easier for everyone to make them, and in honor of these memories, let’s call them…..


Holiday Memories
Gives you 25 Memories

3 egg whites
1/8 t. salt
4 T. raspberry or strawberry gelatin
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 t. apple cider vinegar
2 peppermint bars or canes, crushed
:

Preheat oven to 250 degrees F. Beat egg whites with salt until soft peaks form. Add gelatin, vinegar and sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form. By hand, gently mix in the crushed peppermints. Spoon or pipe into small circular mounds on a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper. I used a baggy with the corner cut out. Bake at 225 degrees for 60 minutes, turn oven off and allow to sit for an additional 20 minutes. Remove from oven and allow cookies to cool completely.

Cranberry Memories


Gives you 25 Memories

3 egg whites
1/2 t. apple cider vinegar
1/8 t. salt
3/4 c. sugar
1 c. dried cranberries, chopped
3-4 drops red food coloring

Preheat the oven to 225 degrees F. Line cookie sheets with aluminum foil or parchment paper.
In a large glass or metal bowl, whip egg whites, vinegar and salt to soft peaks. Gradually add sugar while continuing to whip until stiff peaks form, about 5 minutes. Add 3 drops red food coloring and beat a few seconds longer, or until it is all pink. You may need to add a drop more. Fold in the chopped cranberries. Drop by heaping teaspoonfuls, or use a piping bag or a baggies with the corner cut out, one inch apart onto the prepared cookie sheets. Bake for 60 minutes in oven, turn off heat and let sit in oven 20 minutes. Cool on baking sheets.

Let’s remember our loved ones and remember that the cure is near. Make your own Memories.