Grandma’s Kitchen

House plans are always changing, from multiple small rooms in Victorian homes to open-plan modern houses, the way we live in an era is often reflected in the houses we’re building.  In days gone by feeding a family was an essential role for the woman of the house – now that statement may draw ire from today’s women’s movement but history is history. 

Before frozen foods and microwaves, meals – I mean the kind of meals you have to eat if you spend your days in the field or working stock – those meals took time to prepare.  Large families enlisted daughters’ help and the kitchen became a natural gathering place.

As I’ve written about Plateau families, I’ve tried to research many historic aspects of the home, especially kitchens.  Kitchens often had a bed in them; they always had a big table that would accommodate the whole family for meals, serve as school desk for children, cutting table when Mom wore her seamstress hat and operating table in an emergency.  Oh if those old tables could tell their tales! And kitchens have long been the heart of the home. 

Hot meals were sometimes the minor part of the warmth that the kitchen offered because comfort and advice could be found there and always a heaping helping of love.

Furnishings in those homes were seldom store-bought and that essential table was something every novice carpenter could build.  Without running water, buckets were a part of the kitchen tools.  There was always a youngster assigned to keep buckets of fresh water at the ready for cooking and cleaning.  One furnishing that’s completely disappeared from our kitchens is the dry sink.  This table had a recessed portion that would accommodate a basin for water to be used in washing food or dishes; there might be a slightly higher shelf that could be used to drain the cleaned items.  Just as our sinks today come in a variety of configurations, dry sinks were sometimes wide enough for two water basins, sometimes half lowered and half raised.  The practicality of this furnishing amazes me – and if you’ve ever worked in a dishpan that was sitting on your countertop, you too will appreciate it.

It wasn’t just Mama that lent warmth to these old kitchens; the ever-present wood stove, fired everyday to cook the family’s meals, made its own contribution to the ambiance.  Having grown up enjoying a stove, I’ve mentioned here before that I often can’t feel warm until I can stand before a real fire.  How much more true would that be in a home with unheated bedrooms; when going to the potty meant a trip down down a warn path to the out-house in sunshine or rain.  I’m thinking a straight back chair sitting behind the old stove would be pretty welcoming.

THe White House Kitchen in 1890

Of course hanging out in the kitchen often meant you were handed a pairing knife and bowl of potatoes or bag of chestnuts needing cracking.  But then it also meant getting one of the first cookies that came out of the oven. 

Shopping in the Dark

I was in the grocery store this week when the lights went off and suddenly the room was flooded with darkness.  Having my cell phone in hand – because that’s where my grocery list resides – my first thought was that I could turn on the flashlight function and easily finish my shopping.  Then I realized that the registers would not be working so there would be no way to scan and tally the cost, much less pay for the food with my handy-dandy debit card.

Well the blackout was very short, I turned off my flashlight, finished filling my basket and the clerk was ready to take my plastic payment.  You won’t be surprised that it made me wonder about shopping in the pre-electric days – which I often remind you really wasn’t all that long ago.

Undated picture of Peter’s Store at Clarkrange.

The Tennessee Valley Authority was established in 1933 – just 87 years ago.  While we may often think of them only as our source of electricity, in fact, the original mandate was “environmental stewardship and economic development.”  It wouldn’t be until the 1940’s that the mandate was applied to lighting the valley – and surrounding mountains.  The main roadways of the Cumberland Plateau saw power lines by the early 1940’s.  In 1936 Congress passed the Rural Electrification Act and Volunteer Electric Cooperative utilized the federal loans that act provided and began stringing power lines in Meigs County.  Their website says in 1940 they served 3,631 customers. 

The Plateau’s secondary roadways wouldn’t get electricity until the late forties and even into the early sixties there were areas that still had not been reached.

Understanding all of that shocking history, I’m always wondering what was life like as recently as 1920 or 1930?  And I mean the basic functions of life – meals, church services, school and even the weekly shopping trip.

We’ve talked here before that stores of yester-year were very different than the mega-centers we see today.  Even small grocery stores – like the one that fell dark on me last week – hardly resemble the general stores that my grandparents grew up visiting.  Today we walk through numerous aisles, choosing products from rows and rows of shelves.  The self-serve movement seems to be taking on a whole new purpose as I’m seeing cashiers removed from these stores as customers are expected to also take care of the check-out process.

In days gone by only a tiny portion of the merchandise was set out before customers and the vast majority was stocked behind counters where hard working clerks filled orders.  Early on those clerks actually measured and weighed out bulk products, from coffee beans to coal oil, rural homes could usually buy anything essential to their daily lives.  What wasn’t carried by the merchant could be ordered from a couple of mail order catalogs and often delivered to that local store.

Back to the question of electricity – just how was all that business conducted without power? 

The first idea that comes to mind is shopping on these overcast or rainy, winter days.  You know those days where you burn the lights the whole day long.  If you could get into the store on those days, the clerk (who often lived in the back room of the store) knew his way around that store as well as you know your own home.  With the lamp lit on the counter, he could pretty readily go about his business.  No need to worry about the check-out process.  If he could see his table (of paper) he could jot down the prices and tally up your bill.  A tab was often held to be paid when crops or stock was sold, but if you had the cash to pay that day, it could be counted in the dim light and no credit card transaction was necessary.

And I wonder if you could even get to the store on those days – the kind of February days we’ve been enjoying in Tennessee recently.  Plateau roads were mostly mud, automobiles were scarce until the 1940’s and rainy weather largely kept folks close to home - not to mention a snow storm.

A Stroke in Time

I’m always looking for history and culture to share with y’uns, but I did NOT start out to this week to research stroke treatment and recovery.  However, I’ve spent the week visiting hospitals and rehab facilities, reading articles about stroke therapy and learning a great deal after my mother-in-law suffered a devastating brain-bleeding episode. 

Now the sad coincidence of this development is that my next book will have a central character who suffers a dreadful disease, probably some type of stroke.  As you no doubt already know, all of my novels are based on true characters and their legendary stories.  Stories of Lottie Todd have far out-lived her seventy-six years.  And during her final, bed-ridden years she imparted lessons to her family that we are still trying to pass on. 

God’s hand is always directing His children, and the events leading up to Mother Durham’s stroke are so far beyond coincidence that only God could have orchestrated them.  Despite a bad headache, she left home where she would have been alone for several more hours; she drove out of her quiet neighborhood and stopped at a red light before turning on a major thoroughfare.  She never moved when the light turned green, despite the car’s transmission remaining in “drive”.  A neighbor, who wasn’t personally acquainted with the family but recognized the car as belonging on his street, called 911 rather than pull around the car with an angry look or honked horn as so many of us might have done.  Finally, she was able to answer all of the stroke-test questions that the paramedics posed; yet her husband took her on to the emergency room anyway where a serious bleed was detected and she was immediately prepped for surgery.  All of these happenstances worked together to save her life and bring her through with very minimal physical effects.  I told her the very next day, “God ain’t done with you!”

According to the American Association of Neurosurgeons, in 2007 over 135,000 people died of Cerebrovascular Disease – which is the underlying cause of strokes.  I couldn’t find a correlating number for the early 20th century, however, I think it’s a very safe assumption that the percentage would be much higher since surgical intervention didn’t begin to expand until the 1960’s.

I don’t really know the exact nature of my Great-Great Grandmother’s illness, no one seems to know.  One said there was nothing wrong, she just took to her bed.  Her death certificate lists Tuberculosis as the cause of death, yet her diaries record her re-learning how to write which certainly points toward a neurological event. Regardless of the specifics or even the progression of her disease, Grandma Todd could surely have benefitted from the team of Physical, Speech and Occupational therapists in a 21st century rehabilitation center.

Instead, stroke patients in the early-1900’s were kept at home, put to bed and cared for by devoted family members.  I can scarcely imagine the turmoil those caregivers went through watching their loved ones suffer, powerless to really help them and wondering if they would ever get back to normal.

I don’t know what normal is going to be going forward in the Durham family, but rest assured you’ll get a feel for it when you read Lottie’s Letters (that’s my working title).

Enjoy a glass of Buttermilk

If you’re having stomach problems we have a lot of options for medicine and care these days.  That’s not always been the case but our mountain ancestors had solutions for their problems nonetheless.  Buttermilk was a favorite medicine.

Of course buttermilk is what’s left in the churn after you’ve made butter.  True buttermilk is not at all like the cultured stuff you can find in a store today. However, they are both beneficial.

Today’s cultured buttermilk is great because it has live cultures added, just like yogurt.  These microorganisms help the naturally-occurring bacteria in your stomach which is there to digest food, produce vitamins and trigger immune responses.  There are also bad bacteria and cultures in yogurt and buttermilk fight against those.

We established that old fashioned, homemade buttermilk doesn’t have anything added to it.  Making butter and therefore making buttermilk is really easy. Start with whole milk, give it a good long shake then strain out the solid butter and what’s left is the buttermilk.  Nothing is added – except what the good Lord adds.

Amazingly, those naturally added “ingredients” were the reason that homemade buttermilk has long been used medicinally.  Butter can be made from either sweet milk or sour.   My grandmas would always offer you a glass of “sweet milk” to differentiate from the buttermilk.  It’s just milk that hasn’t turned yet.

However, everyone on the mountain always thought you could only make butter from sour milk.  As the milk turns, the natural bacteria in the milk begins to ferment and that makes it easier to churn and makes the butter keep longer – both of which may account for why the old folks wanted to use sour milk.  The added benefit are those “cultures” that they couldn’t have named yet they counted on them to cure stomach troubles.

Now some people just enjoy the taste of buttermilk – as some enjoy yogurt.  I can’t help but wonder if that earlier generation appreciated the taste or drank it simply for their health?

How do you eat buttermilk?