A TASTE FOR SPICE

My dad loved gingersnaps, so two or three times a year he would make a big batch using his mother’s (Ina’s) recipe. Mike loves gingersnaps, too, and we usually keep packages purchased at the Dollar Tree on hand for his snacking, but we didn’t have any at the farm so I decided to make some.

Both of my grandmothers, Ina Dobson and Nina Portfors, came from families with similar recipes for ginger cookies. The following is Ina’s recipe:

1 cup sugar

5 cups flour

1 cup shortening (butter best)

1 cup molasses

1 egg

1 tsp soda

½ cup hot water

Salt

½ tsp cloves

1 tsp ginger

2 tsp cinnamon

Cream shortening and sugar. Add molasses and beaten egg. Add soda in the water. Sift together flour, salt, spices and add to shortening mixture. Chill 6 or 8 hours. Roll thin. Cut in any shapes desired.

Somehow I never quite trusted that this recipe was the best one going because my dad was always changing it. He loved to cook, and it was just his nature to alter the ingredients, but his actions said to me that the recipe was lacking in his opinion. So, as a youngster, when I wanted to bake ginger cookies – usually once a year at Christmas – I used a cookbook recipe. This time was no exception. I turned to The Illustrated Treasury of Cooking, a 1975 blending of old and new recipes, where I found the following update on the old gingersnap recipe:

1 cup butter, margarine or shortening

1 cup brown sugar, firmly packed

1 egg

1 cup table molasses

1 tbsp vinegar

4 cups sifted flour

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 tbsp powdered ginger (yes!)

1/16 tsp cayenne (oh yeah!)

½ tsp powdered cinnamon

Cream the shortening until light. Gradually add the sugar, beating until creamy. Beat in the egg, then the molasses and vinegar.

Sift dry ingredients and add to the creamed mixture and mix thoroughly. Cover the dough with waxed paper and let it chill in the refrigerator one hour or more.

When ready to bake, roll the dough out 1/8 inch thick on a lightly floured board. Cut in rounds with cookie cutter and place on greased cookie sheets. (I lined sheets with parchment paper instead.) Bake at 350 for 8-9 minutes.

Ina left two round cookie cutters in the house. My dad always made big gingersnaps, so I used the larger one first. Then I decided that Mike would probably prefer to eat a lot of smaller cookies, so I switched to the smaller cutter.

I love the spiciness of these ginger cookies and would use the recipe again, but I believe I might work in that extra ½ to 1 cup of flour. The dough was really soft.

Over time the way we think about our provisions has changed. We skimp when money and goods are scarce, and we can see that in the vintage recipes. My mother used her spices sparingly, and they sat in the cupboard and got old. Today, we’re much more aware of shelf life and give importance to keeping cooking supplies fresh, knowing that they will lose their savor with time. We just as well enjoy them.

IN THE DOGHOUSE

On a previous post Leah asked about Nellie's doghouse.

This is Nellie’s town kennel and doghouse. She was just a year old when we moved to the modular home. While Mike built the kennel, she watched the process from her portable cage. Somehow she seemed to know it was her new place and has always been at home with it. She really doesn’t seem to mind going to her kennel anytime but it’s the place she most prefers at bedtime. However, she is clever enough to lift the latch with her snout and come out unless we lock the gate by inserting something (a karabiner) in the slot.

 

As you can see, the barrel, a 50-gallon drum, is set outside the kennel to allow maximum outside room. The doghouse is filled with wood shavings which help to clean her. She gets extra shavings in the winter to keep her warm.

At the farm she doesn’t have a kennel. Instead, her barrel doghouse, a pickle barrel that Mike picked up someplace, is in the old woodshed. Again she prefers to overnight in her house. (If this looks rustic to you, remember that she’s a dog -- and a hunting dog at that.)

Our routine is that Nellie comes into the house as soon as we’re up and around. In town, we open her kennel so that she can come out. At the farm, she comes out on her own and whines at the kitchen door when she’s ready to come in. Sometimes she whines before we’re up, but if one of us is up she seems to know it – probably hears us moving around.

 

During the day Nellie is seldom confined to her kennel. She stays in the house if we have errands to run or we take her with us. However, occasionally we leave her in her kennel while we’re out, and while she doesn’t mind going to the kennel, that’s when she’s apt to let herself out if the gate isn’t locked.

Nellie used to enjoy napping on her pillow while Mike and I watched tv in the evenings, but during the last year she has shown a marked preference for going to bed early. I used to let her out for a few minutes after we finished the dishes and she would come right back, but now she tends to put herself to bed. This practice has necessitated a change in the bedtime tooth-brushing routine which now must take place right after supper.

When I married Mike, the doghouse was a flat-roofed wooden structure that eventually deteriorated. It seems to me my nephew L.J. suggested the barrel house, but Mike doesn’t remember. We’ve used barrels ever since. KW

NELLIE'S EXERCISE RUN

Ordinarily when Nellie and I go for our walk, Mike has already left the yard on his bicycle. We established this practice years ago when she used to try to chase after Mike as he rode by. Today we got it backwards, though. I was leaving for the walk about the time Mike decided to get ready for his ride. Nellie and I were just at the top of Plank’s Pitch when Mike caught us and rode on by, picking up speed. When Nellie saw him, her youthful instinct to follow kicked in and she took out after him lickity-split. I didn’t have her whistle, and I knew it was useless to call. I also knew it was useless to chase after her, but I did some fine speed-walking.

I hoped that Mike would notice her and make sure she turned back, but when I got to the mailbox and she was nowhere in sight, I realized she was likely still running after him. Unless he slowed for some reason, she wasn’t going to catch him. So, after retrieving a package from the neighbors, I started back to the farmhouse, checking over my shoulder every 10 steps. 

I suppose I was a third of the way to the house when I saw her trotting along behind me. I waited for her to catch up, and when we reached the big puddle she plopped right in and commenced to lap the water.

Once we were at the house, she sat down to wait for her master. I could tell by the set of her back that she was a little worried that she was in trouble – that maybe she would have some ‘splainin’ to do.

When she saw Mike coming she went quickly to the top of the lane, but instead of greeting him as he approached, she disappeared into the tall grass. I was the one who had to explain that Nellie had followed and was now worried that she might be in trouble for not keeping up. She was so relieved when Mike called her to him for an affectionate pat that she did a joyful dance. KW

NOTES ON A CHOCOLATE CAKE

It was cold yesterday and rain confined us to the farmhouse, so I decided to experiment with a chocolate cake recipe from Ina’s box. I chose one labeled “Ada’s Devil’s Food, July 2, 1937.” The date is just right.

Here’s the recipe as Ina wrote it out:

2 cups sifted flour (Swan’s Down preferred)

2 ¾ tsp. baking powder, level

Salt

4 tbsp cocoa, or use 3 squares chocolate

1 ½ cups sugar

2/3 cup shortening, butter preferred

Break 3 eggs in bowl, beat well

Add to sugar and shortening and beat well.

Add 1 tsp vanilla

¾ cup sweet milk

That’s it. And it was written all over the card with no organization. So, the first thing I did was to re-write it as follows:

2 cups sifted flour (cake flour?)

2 ¾ tsp baking powder

½ tsp salt

4 tbsp cocoa (or 3 squares baking chocolate)

1 ½ cups sugar

2/3 cup shortening (butter preferred)

3 beaten eggs

¾ cup sweet milk

Cream sugar and butter. Add beaten eggs and vanilla and beat well. Add sifted dry ingredients alternately with ¾ cup sweet milk. Bake in 9x13 pan at 350 for 35-40 minutes. For layers, bake 30-35 minutes.

And here’s what I did:

·        I sifted regular flour and then measured two cups. Then I added the baking powder, salt, and cocoa (Hershey’s Special Dark) and sifted twice more  -- a retro practice, you know.

·        I creamed the butter and the sugar and added ¾ cup egg substitute -- a concession to the modern diet. I forgot the vanilla.

·        At about this point, I questioned that 4 tablespoons of cocoa would substitute in chocolate intensity for 3 squares of baking chocolate and decided to check a cookbook (Betty Crocker’s Baking Classics, 1979.) [I know – why don’t I just use the cookbook?] Betty’s chocolate cake called for 2/3 cup cocoa, so I increased the amount I used to 2/3 cup.

·        I blended the sifted dry ingredients into the sugar mixture alternating with ¾ cup canned milk. (The canned milk was in the fridge and needed to be used.)

·        The baking time per pan size I also learned from the Betty Crocker recipe.

Ina’s recipe card does not include a frosting, but there’s one with Betty’s recipe and one on the cocoa can.

Most all the chocolate cake recipes in Ina’s box are called “Devil’s Food,” but as I suspected, most of them don’t fit Wikipedia’s definition. They’re chocolate cakes but not necessarily Devil’s Food.

Verdict: The cake seemed a little dry. I probably should have cut back a bit on the flour when I increased the cocoa powder. And I could probably cut back five minutes on the baking time. However, I frosted it and we like it.

On my next try, I will use cake flour, 3 squares baking chocolate, increase the salt to one teaspoon, and remember the vanilla. If it’s a success, I’ll write out the recipe for use at our summer celebration (July 14) and attribute it to Ina’s neighbor, Ada Plank, whose house sat right at the bottom of Plank’s Pitch. KW

BIG STORM A-COMIN'

We knew about the "severe storm warning" when we came to the farm yesterday morning. Mike mowed. I did the laundry, planted two hostas and a coleus, picked spinach and buried a banana peel beside the cute little lilac I found last week. So far so good on the rhubarb we planted.

The yard actually looks pretty good, quelling some of the discouragement I felt last week. In fact, over the weekend the little spinach plants grew leaves big enough to pick. Here's a picture of a wild rose that "volunteered" at the woodshed. It shows one pink blossom and lots of buds.

The wild rose bramble bush that Nick and Hallie cut back is a bramble again and would make fine cover for a covey of quail.



 





The pear tree is setting its fruit.




Mike took his mountain bike and went for an exercise ride in the late afternoon. Nellie insisted we go for a walk. Here she is on point above our lane near Plank's, waiting for me to approach her. When I did, she flushed a pair of huns. Proceeding on up Plank's Pitch, I met the FedEx man with a package for Mike -- ink cartridges for the printer. He said he didn't know there was a place "back here." I accepted the package right there and he went his way. Out on top, I met Neighbor Pete who advised me of packages in our mailbox and offered to give me a ride, which I declined.

Then the wind came up -- just like that. I hurried to the mailbox (one mile from the house), pulled out the small packages, and calling "back" to Nellie I slipped into my fastest walk. I felt the occasional drop of rain.





I paused long enough to take this picture of a garter snake sunny herself by a pool of water. I retrieved the package I had left at the top of Plank's Pitch. Now I'm managing three lightweight but bulky mailings as I scurry down the road.





When I arrived at the house, the wind was blowing in earnest. I removed the mostly dry clothes from the line and got supper. Nellie hid under the table at my feet and went right to her barrel house in the woodshed as soon as the dishes were finished.  The rain didn't really commence until 7:20 -- the predicted time frame. We had no hail but periods of heavy rain and wind. KW

TREADLING

 

When Grandmother Ina left us, she left behind her treadle sewing machine. Once I retired, I declared that I wanted to learn to use it, so Mike serviced it for me and we bought and installed a new belt. That was 2007. At that time I practiced treadling but didn't thread the machine.

Fast forward to 2012 and I still hadn’t committed to sewing with Ina’s “New Automatic” sewing machine. Since I didn’t have my Bernina with me, I decided the time had come.

I was going to make an apron, but this cute little jacket pattern started singing my song. I remembered some corduroy stashed away that I thought I just had to have some 20 years ago. “Perfect!” I said to myself because, of course, the investment is depreciated out and it won’t matter if all doesn’t go well. The pattern, “A Little Somethin’ Jacket,” comes from CNT Pattern Company out of Aspen, CO. 

So I carefully cut out the jacket. Then I was ready to start sewing, right? Wrong! I still had to learn to thread the old treadle machine. Luckily Ina left the manual in one of the drawers, so I commenced to read it. The first page reiterates at least four times that the first thing the new owner must do is “READ THIS BOOK CAREFULLY.”

“We give you this book, the most accurate, clear and complete instructions ever printed on, ‘How to operate and take care of the sewing machine.’ By carefully following the instructions YOUR MACHINE WILL ALWAYS GIVE PERFECT SATISFACTION.”

But the admonishment I particularly love is this one: “WHEN DIFFICULTIES ARISE, REMEMBER that your machine is seldom at fault and does not require the aid of a repair man. You will find on close observation that your trouble is generally due to your oversight or neglect in following out these simple rules.” Ha! So blaming the operator for failure is evidently a concept as old as technology itself.

Here are the simple rules:

An imperfect or crooked needle.

Cheap, inferior quality threads.

Failure to have machine properly threaded.

Needle not large enough for the thread.

Tensions clogged or out of adjustment.

Lack of oil or the accumulation of dirt and lint around the feed, needle well or the shuttle.

I am not patient with the learning process – never have been -- but I made myself peruse the manual. I learned to wind the bobbin and then load the bobbin into the shuttle. But when I tried to sew with thread, I had the biggest mess of loops ever! I read and re-read the statement that “trouble is generally due to your oversight or neglect in following out these simple rules,” struggling to keep frustration at bay.

Well – long story short, the problem was my failure to correctly pull the thread through the tension discs. Now on my fiftieth re-thread and perhaps just a touch angry, I gave the thread a firm tug with two hands when I came to the discs and could tell immediately that this was the missing step.

Then I commenced to sew on the “Little Somethin’ Jacket,” bringing the five pieces together as one unit. Now I’ll finish it on the Bernina.

We drove to the town house early yesterday morning. The day turned hot. Mike took a bike ride while I ran errands in town. The traffic was horrendous on Bridge Street, backing up for blocks. Note to self: Do not shop on Friday afternoons! KW