Whatever Did They Eat on the Georgia Frontier?

by Denise Weimer

Plantation kitchen at Stone Mountain

Many of my historical novels are set during the time all but coastal Georgia was still a frontier. My most recent work-in-progress, A Secondhand Betrothal, takes place in 1813 on the border of Creek and Cherokee territories. Research for the time period and location can prove daunting, but it’s important to depict what daily life was like as accurately as possible. These frontier families wouldn’t have access to all the goods of their counterparts in Savannah or even Augusta, yet their diets wouldn’t exactly mirror that of their Native American neighbors either. So what did they eat? Here are a few facts uncovered in my research.   

Guide with oxalis at William Harris

They lived off the land as much as possible. The Early History of Jackson County, Georgia, tells us that the Upper Creeks lived on “fish, turtles, apples, pawpaws on small bushes now extinct, pig potatoes or oskones which came from the swamp, wild beans, wild grapes or unups.” A genealogy of Turner County, Georgia, south of Atlanta, revealed that game was plentiful, chiefly deer and turkeys. Hunters also brought home partridges, turtles, and squirrels. In fact, Georgia squirrel stew closely resembled the Brunswick stew popular in other parts of the South (foodtimeline.org). Herbal foragers could find a bounty in the woods and streams, including blackberries, wild strawberries, muscadines, persimmons, and various types of mushrooms in season. Honey mushrooms could be soaked in salt water, then cooked. Chantrel mushrooms were a late-summer favorite, cropping up in woody areas near oaks, especially after a rain. Walnuts, pecans, and hickory nuts were so plentiful that the nuts often formed a carpet several inches thick. Even acorns of white oaks could be soaked in water to remove the tanic acid, then eaten—or roasted and crushed into a light-brown flour. Endless native greens were edible, including wood sorrel or oxalis with its tiny, yellow flowers. It grows year-round and has a tart, lemony flavor (I know – I tried some on a nature walk!). Even a white fungus known as cauliflower can be fried just like its namesake. 

They cultivated what they could. The Upper Creeks raised green corn called emefila when soft but maize when hard. They ground corn to make cakes and cooked them in hot ashes. Green corn and wild beans went into a succotash. The settlers made sparkling corn beer and added to this “hog and hominy, johnny cakes, and batter cakes” of unbolted rye flour. Johnny cakes were made of corn meal and baked before the fire on wooden boards, turned repeatedly until all sides were light-brown. In Turner County, wolves swarmed the country in packs and threatened those raising sheep and hogs—so that tells us there were those attempting to do so. Hog Mountain, Georgia, derived its name from its function as a crossroads marketplace where not only those who raised hogs but cattle as well brought livestock for sale. Chickens and cows provided dairy products. Peach and apple trees flourished in Georgia. And naturally, the settler’s garden was his mainstay, from herbs to squash, pumpkins, beans, greens, and melons. However, I found it surprisingly hard to locate pre-Civil War resources on Southern vegetable and herb gardens. Suggestions?

Cherokee herb garden at New Echota

 

They imported what they couldn’t access or cultivate, including spices and specialty items. According to the history of Jackson County, coffee was only used on special occasions. The History of Gwinnett County mentions that among the stock at the local trading posts were muscovado sugar, Jamaica and Antigua rum, Spanish brandy, Philadelphia rye whiskey, Teneriffe wine, claret, Holland gin, Malaga wine, London port, and Spanish “segars.” As you can see, the backwoods lacked not on alcohol.

The copy of Tullie’s Receipts: Nineteenth Century Plantation Plain Style Southern Cooking and Living (whew!) I ordered for my research offered a section entitled “Unusual Receipts” the contents of which suggested they might have originated on the frontier. What was on the menu? Pigeon or lark pie; possum and tater; squirrel soup; rabbit stew; to roast a goose; to try lard; hominy; to make a hedge hog; peach leather; mincemeat; Mama Sander’s scuppernong hull pie; blackberry wine; and corn beer. Oh, and there was a nice country syllabub I had my characters prepare for Christmas. 

The kitchen at Chief Vann House

Questions, anyone? I know you’ve been waiting your whole life to learn how to prepare a hedge hog. 

Represented by Hartline Literary Agency, Denise Weimer holds a journalism degree with a minor in history from Asbury University. She’s a managing editor for the historical imprints of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas and the author of a dozen published novels and a number of novellas. A wife and mother of two daughters, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses!
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Pumpkin Pie from Colonial America

I've become a stalker of the youtube colonial cooking videos put out by Jas. Townsend and Son, Inc. I love them! I can't wait to try this one. Molasses instead of sugar is sure to give it a special - colonial - flavor.

~ Pegg Thomas

PeggThomas.com

Debut story will release in April 2017 from Barbour

The Cheese Stands Alone!

In a world of food allergies, dieting, sustainable agriculture and the like, I’ve found cheese is one of the hardest delights to give up. Cheese, after all, is Fat And Salt, and rivals Fat And Sugar in popularity.

Did our colonial ancestors appreciate it as well? Likely so, but in different ways. As long as people have been raising or domesticating milk animals, people have been drinking milk and trying to use it before the leftovers spoil. There’s butter and there’s cheese. Farmer cheese, or pot cheese, was the standard, yet few of us eat it now, as we’ve moved on to aged cheese. Let me explain:

Farmer’s cheese uses the process of adding something to make the milk curdle. It doesn’t sound pleasant, does it? But think cottage cheese. We do eat it. Curdle? Curds? Yes. Cottage cheese is the closest thing we have to the process. By adding vinegar, citrus juice, rennet, milk changes. It doesn’t become immune to deterioration (unless it’s processed American Cheese), but it lasts a lot longer.  Cheese was a common European product and even now, cheese is rarely a part of Asian cuisines.  Europeans brought cheesemaking to the “New World”. Sorry Wisconsin, but the northeast colonies were the heart of cheese-making land long before you saw a Guernsey cow!  Cheese in some form was found around the world wherever dairy animals are kept. Africa, The Middle East, the Americas and certainly Europe.

The colonies of Rhode Island, Connecticut and Eastern Massachusetts were full of these European dairymen. The Cheese culture (ahem) spread to western Massachusetts, New York and into Ohio after the Revolutionary War. Parts of Ohio were considered the center of cheesemaking country! The dairy industry continued to spread west.

What’s farmer cheese? Take fresh milk (unpasteurized—in the old days this also meant straining out things you definitely didn’t want in your milk or cheese),and add rennet. Rennet is a product derived from a calf’s stomach. Today you can still buy rennet or you can use vinegar or lemon. In colonial times, rennet and warm milk would sit in large trays in the coolest part of the milk shed or kitchen, and begin to separate. Ask Miss Muffet about those curds and whey, will you? Colonial milkmaids helped the process along and eventually bagged up the curds to drain. Yes, this is where CHEESECLOTH came from, and they were left with curds. What drained off was the whey and it made a great basis for cooking and baking or drinking, just like buttermilk. 

In some cases the curds are pressed to further remove whey and create a more solid –yet soft—form of spreadable cheese. Farmer’s cheese is generally left as is or flavorings can be added. Chives, for instance.

The other cheeses we love are taken a step further. They are aged. There’s a science and an art to it. Think of all the cheeses you might eat in one day. Cream cheese, cheddar cheese, feta.  They’re all nothing without salt and a specialized aging process. Farmers with more time and competitiveness took those steps. Today, in the Finger Lakes area of New York State, we have a CHEESE TRAIL!

Most of us these days can think of at least ten types of cheese we use in our diet.  (Unless you are milk intolerant!) Have you ever made your own cheese?

A Harvest of Corn

Autumn is my favorite time of year in New England, with its cooler weather, the changing of the leaves and harvest time bringing fresh pumpkins, squash and sweet ears of corn to the local roadside farm stands.

The Indians called it maize and introduced the grain to the first American settlers who were amazed to see them munch on a whole roasted or boiled ear.  The curious Pilgrims sampled this novel delicacy and learned its secrets from their Indian neighbors.  They adopted it as their own and renamed it “corn,” the generic English word for grain.  They learned to make corn meal, corn breads and cakes, corn chowder and puddings of every variety—from hasty pudding to corn custard.  Soon corn became a staple of the Colonial diet and was grown on every early American farm.

At harvest time, the fresh corn stalks brought an opportunity for neighbors to come together for a husking frolic.  The task of husking and shelling, which would prove tedious for a single family to accomplish on their own, was turned into a festive gathering for men, women and children.  Food, drink and dancing often followed and it was a great opportunity for young people of courting age to meet a potential love interest.

Among the many delectable dishes that settlers learned to make with corn, corn custard was considered a Colonial mainstay.  It was known to be a favorite dish of Revolutionary War General Daniel Morgan, and it remains a favorite around holiday time in New England homes today.  Here’s an easy receipt that serves 6.

2 cups corn kernels, fresh or canned (and drained)

1/4 cup flour

1 tsp. sugar

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

3 eggs, beaten well

2 cups milk

2 Tbsp. butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350º.  Mix the corn and dry ingredients.  Add eggs, milk and butter.  Bake in a buttered casserole dish set in a pan of hot water for 50-60 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.

What is your favorite corn dish or way to enjoy corn?

Lisa Norato
www.lisanorato.com
Lisa Norato, Author/Facebook
 

Summer Kitchen

August temperatures rose high enough without suffering the added heat of the baking ovens.  To spare the household unnecessary discomfort, the summer kitchen had been built—a one-room structure located to the rear and separate from the main house.  Outside its cottage door, Lorena’s flower, herb and vegetable garden grew.

            -Excerpt from Prize of My Heart

The large open fireplaces of Early American households generated an intense amount of heat that could warm an entire home. This was a serious responsibility in chilly weather but during the summer months the daylong fires required for hearth cookery could leave a dwelling oppressive.  Many dishes took hours or all day to cook—baked beans, steamed brown bread, boiled suet and meat pie, as a few examples.  Cooking odors lingered in the still, humid air, making the indoors not only unbearably warm but offensive.

For relief, it was common for colonials to build a separate building called a “Summer Kitchen.”  It would be located no more than a few hundred feet from the main house, close enough so that prepared foods could be carried to the dining room in a timely fashion.  Having a separate kitchen also reduced the risk of fire devastating an entire dwelling.

The summer kitchen would contain a large fireplace that would occupy almost an entire wall.  A bake oven was built into the side of fireplace, complete with its own flue outside the oven door.  The kitchen would include a pantry for storage and be furnished with a large work table and perhaps a smaller “breadboard table” for kneading dough.

Those without the means to build a separate kitchen, often used clay, outdoor bake ovens during the warmest months.  Many Northern homes were built upon rubblestone cellars which also served as a summer kitchens in season.

Lisa Norato is the multi-published author of Prize of My Heart, an inspirational, seafaring historical from Bethany House, set during the Federal era. A life-long New Englander, Lisa lives in a historic village with homes and churches dating as far back as the eighteenth century.

Southern Traditions - Hoppin' John

Hopping John  ~  Hoppin’ John

By Janet Grunst


For many years we have begun each New Year with Hopping John.  This traditional southern dish, also known as ‘Hoppin’ John in America, originated in North Africa and was probably brought to these shores as a result of the slave trade. The use of black-eyed peas dates back at least 3000 years when it was part of the Greek and Roman diet. There are many theories on how the name Hopping John started, from folks inviting guests into their homes at the new year with “hop in John” to children hopping around the table before sitting to enjoy the meal. Black-eyed peas are generally considered to assure good luck.

There are many recipes for Hopping John, but the primary ingredients in this tasty dish are black-eyed peas, also known as cow peas, rice and pork. Typically the dried peas are first soaked then cooked. Salt pork is added later. I started out doing just that, however, I’ve gone to a far simpler recipe in recent years. Let me share my recipe, and also how I’ve recently updated it at the urging of my husband who prefers it a bit spicier.

Hopping John

2 cups of canned black eyed peas

½ - 1 lb bacon

(reserve 2 Tablesp of bacon drippings)

½ teasp. Black pepper

½ teasp. Salt

1 cup white uncooked white rice

Cook rice according to directions. Fry bacon and set aside. When rice is done, add black eyed peas, cooked bacon with a couple of Tablespoons of drippings, and salt and pepper. Stir together and heat on low heat for 10 minutes to allow flavors to blend. Chill leftovers and reheat when you are ready for more.

Spicier Hopping John 

2 cups of canned black eyed peas

½ lb bacon

(reserve 2 Tablesp of bacon drippings)

1 medium chopped onion

2 minced garlic cloves

1/ teasp of crushed red pepper flakes

½ teasp. Black pepper

½ teasp. Salt

1 cup white uncooked white rice

Cook rice according to directions. Fry bacon and set aside. Sauté chopped onion in reserved bacon drippings until soft and clear. Add garlic and pepper flakes to onion and heat for a couple of minutes. When rice is done, add black eyed peas, cooked bacon, and salt and pepper. Stir together and heat on low heat for 10 minutes to allow flavors to blend. Chill leftovers and reheat when you are ready for more.

There are many variations for this southern dish so feel free to experiment and make it your own.

We never considered eating it would bring good luck, but we would enjoy our Hopping John every New Years and hope that our new year would be blessed. When our meal was over, my sons would often remark, “Mom, we like this, why do we only get to have it once a year?” 

In Ye Olden Days: Deck the Halls

It's Tradition!

In keeping with my hope of writing fiction set in the 18th century for a long while to come, I wanted to research and blog about what an 18th century Christmas might have looked like. I came away with one overriding impression: simplicity.

According to Emma Powers in her Christmas Customs article (Colonial Williamsburg website): "Eighteenth-century [Christmas] customs don't take long to recount: church, dinner, dancing, some evergreens, visiting--and more and better of these very same for those who could afford more."

Here are a few more interesting facts about 18th Century Christmas, quoted from the same article mentioned above, which is well worth a full read:

"Williamsburg shopkeepers of the eighteenth century placed ads noting items appropriate as holiday gifts, but New Year's was as likely a time as December 25 for bestowing gifts."

"No early Virginia sources tell us how, or even if, colonists decorated their homes for the holidays, so we must rely on eighteenth-century English prints.... that show interior Christmas decorations [such as] a large cluster of mistletoe...."

"Then as now, beef, goose, ham, and turkey counted as holiday favorites; some households also insisted on fish, oysters, mincemeat pies, and brandied peaches."


"The twelve days of Christmas lasted until January 6, also called Twelfth Day or Epiphany. Colonial Virginians thought Twelfth Night a good occasion for balls, parties, and weddings."

I'll note that a wedding does take place on Jan 6th in one of my 18th century novels... but I won't say whose!

Looking for more information on early Christmas customs and traditions? Check out these sites:

Christmas Food History: http://www.foodtimeline.org/christmasfood.html

Another Look At Christmas in the Eighteenth Century, by David DeSimone: http://www.history.org/almanack/life/christmas/hist_anotherlook.cfm

Recipes for a Twelfth Night Celebration: http://www.history.org/almanack/life/food/ginger.cfm

Do you have Christmas traditions in your family that date back more than a generation or two? The only one I can recall from my childhood was finding an orange in the foot of our stockings on Christmas morning, which to me always seemed a little strange since there were oranges in the fruit bowl in the kitchen. At some point I came to realize that it harkened back to the days of my grandfather's childhood, when an orange at Christmas was a treat, because they didn't have them or couldn't afford them for the rest of the year.
 

 photos by Flintlocker and fauxto_digit

In Ye Olden Days: Baking on an Open Hearth

Ever wonder why the only breads frontier people ate were cornbread and biscuits? I'm here to answer that question.

It is impossible (to my knowledge) to bake yeast breads on an open hearth. The reasons are simple. An inability to keep the heat even, and no room for the bread to rise as it bakes. I worked for four years as a tour guide at Kent Plantation House in central Louisiana and Kent is one of a small handful of plantation museums with a working open hearth kitchen. I learned a lot about cooking in an open hearth. I also learned cornbread baked in a Dutch oven is the closest thing to tastebud heaven we'll ever know on this earth.

The above picture is an open hearth. All that brick is where most of the cooking and baking is done. Only soups and stews are placed directly over the fire, on the crane. The top door on the left is a bread oven that's been used twice since the hearth in this kitchen was rebuilt in the mid-80's. Beneath is wood. The first time it was fired up it took three days to get it hot enough to bake cookies.

The first step is coals. Lots and lots and lots of coals. Preferably made with oak. Pine has too much pitch in it, makes a lot of smoke, and clogs up the chimney.



The curly thing in this picture is a trivet. Coals are piled underneath, the skillet goes on top, and then the lid goes on. The round thing to the right of the trivet here is a lid with a lip on it. This lip keeps the coals from falling off the lid. Most iron pots and skillets in the 19th century had two lids. A domed one and a lipped one.

Coals on top of the skillet create the rest of the heat to cook the cornbread. Or the biscuits or the cake. Yes, you can bake a cake on an open hearth and it is very good. The coals have to be replaced at least once during baking, on top and bottom. You can also fry things on an open hearth, and my sister makes an amazing peach upside down cake. Just make sure and use liberal amounts of butter to keep the cake from sticking.

Many plantation cooks wore wooden shoes, and their skirts were shorter than everyone else's. While cooking in the kitchen where I took these pictures, my sister once caught her shoe on fire stepping on what looked like a dead coal. More than one cook at Kent has caught her skirt or apron on fire.

Since you obviously can't use potholders or an apron around live coals, what do you use? S hooks. Called S hooks because they look like an S. Every blacksmith made hundreds of them. They come in all sizes from three to four inches long to over a foot. They were also used to adjust the distance between the soup pot on the crane and the coals beneath.

Baking and cooking on an open hearth was very time consuming and very dangerous. Because of the fire danger, on plantations the kitchen was always a separate building. That often was not practical on the colonial frontier. Heat was another reason the kitchen was separate in the South. Even in October here in Louisiana it gets up in the 90's and the temperature in Kent's open hearth kitchen can easily top 100 degrees. Up north heat wasn't as much of a concern, and there often wasn't enough room to build a separate kitchen.

If you ever have the chance to see an open hearth kitchen in action, take it. It's an amazing experience that pictures cannot capture.