December – A Time to Remember

One of the things I have noticed about the aging process is that nostalgia becomes increasingly important with each passing year. Maybe that’s explained in part by the fact that I’m no longer a spring chicken (though I’m young at heart), but there’s also the firm conviction that in many senses the “good old days” were truly good. For example, as a boy I carried a knife in my pants pockets as a matter of course, and without it I would have felt naked. Similarly, I could walk through the small town where I grew up with a shotgun cradled in my arm and never raise so much as a single eyebrow, and folks lived sufficiently close to the land to take matters like butchering hogs and wringing the necks of chickens in stride. Best of all, the term “politically correct” did not even exist.

It was a good, wholesome time. No one locked their doors, a birth out of wedlock was a local scandal, charity began at home but everyone helped those in need, and we didn’t suffer from all the trauma associated with three generations of what the welfare state has given us. Enough of that though. I just wanted to make the point that there is a great deal positive to be said about the simpler days and simpler ways of yesteryear, and much of that warm goodness floods my mind in the holiday season.

As the words of the song suggest, December is indeed a wonderful time to remember. Somehow, the most powerful and poignant of my personal memories revolve around food and family, and as I wish each and every one of you a joyous holiday season, it seems appropriate to share a few of them.

When it comes to Christmas gifts, those from my boyhood that stand out were all associated, in one way or another, with the outdoor experience. Every Yuletide brought some new hunting clothing—maybe Duxbak pants, heavy socks, long johns, and the like. It was also the only time I ever had a full box of 25 shotgun shells all at once. Otherwise I bought them individually at eight cents each or a baker’s dozen for a dollar. One Christmas brought the first book I could call my own, a copy of Zane Grey’s Spirit of the Border I still own, and there was almost always a pocket knife.

The reason for the knife harkened back to a traumatic event in my father’s boyhood. Though there was precious little “cash money” in his dirt-poor family, Dad desperately craved a knife for Christmas. He got it, but in the form of a piece of hard candy shaped like a folding knife. Crushed and not really old enough to understand that his parents couldn’t afford the real version of the coveted item, Dad became a lifelong lover of fine knives. Every Christmas his sons, and later his grandsons, could count on getting a knife as a gift.

My most memorable gift, however, was one which I suspect holds true for many others, at least of my generation. It was my first gun. A little single-shot Stevens Model 220A 20 gauge choked tight as a miser’s purse, it demanded real accuracy when it came to dealing with a scampering rabbit or a grouse winging away through cover, but is was all mine. I still have it and for pure reasons of nostalgia used it to kill my first turkey many years ago.

I also fondly recall all of the preparations associated with what it is today fashionable to describe as a “natural Christmas.” We cut our own tree, usually a Virginia pine spotted while we were out rabbit hunting, and gathered various types of greenery for decoration—hemlock and spruce boughs, she holly limbs adorned with bright berries, maybe some running cedar and galax, and other readily available gifts from nature. Getting a few sprigs of mistletoe meant welcome target practice with a .22 rifle, and Mom always wanted a couple of limbs from a honey locust. She covered every thorn with gum drops and woe be unto anyone who purloined these.

There would be feasting not only on Christmas Day, when everyone gathered at my grandparents and later, after they were gone, at our house or that of one of Dad’s brothers or sisters. We ate wonderfully well and not just on Christmas Day. Along with turkey, or often, two or three baked hens from Grandpa Joe’s chicken lot, we would enjoy game dishes featuring rabbit, squirrel, and less frequently, grouse or quail. Add to that the produce from fall gardens and the cannery—acorn squash and candy roasters, pumpkin, turnips and greens, cabbage, canned green beans and leather britches beans (dried green beans), corn, soup mix, and much more—and we ate like kings.

Grandma Minnie always made a stack cake and could be counted on for a batch of fried apple or peach pies most any morning; there was pumpkin chiffon pie, orange slice cake, and applesauce cake from Mom; and if you haven’t had hot biscuits slathered in butter and coated with molasses or jam as a dessert, well—what can I say? I feel sorry for your culinary deprivation. Fine fare of this type, not to mention crackling cornbread, soup beans, relishes, sauerkraut, hominy, and other items, meant feasting right through Christmas on into New Year’s. There were no concerns about weight gain, however, because every daylight hour, with the exception of Christmas morning and Sundays, was devoted to hunting. All that hardy exercise just meant hearty appetites, and as long as I celebrate Christmas, food memories will be an integral part of the season for me.

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Recipes for the Holidays

All of the following recipes, along with hundreds of others, are available from the various cookbooks Ann and I have written. Add one or two of them to your own collection or remember that they make fine gifts at Christmas or any time of the year.

FRESH APPLE CAKE

We raised our own apples—Red and Golden Delicious along with Winesaps—and Mom always set a goal of canning 200 quarts of apples a year. She also dried some for pies, and the fruit would keep in bens beneath the house well into winter. Apples figured prominently in our family desserts in forms such as cobblers, stack cakes, pies and Mom’s wonderful applesauce cake liberally laced with black walnuts and kept moist with an application or two of wine. Yet when Ann first made this cake Mom declared it as fine as any she had ever tasted, and from her that was high praise indeed.

1 ¼ cup vegetable oil
2 cups sugar
3 eggs
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups of apple, peeled and grated
1 cup chopped nuts (black walnuts are my favorite, but you can use others)
1 cup raisins

Mix oil and sugar. Add eggs. Sift flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon together and add to egg mixture. Stir in remaining ingredients and bake in a greased and floured tube pan for 325 degrees for an hour and 15 minutes. Cool slightly before adding glaze.

GLAZE

½ cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup evaporated milk

While the cake is baking, combine butter, brown sugar and evaporated milk. Bring to a full boil and stir. Set aside and stir every 15 minutes. Pour over still warm cake.

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SQUIRREL WITH LIMA BEANS

Squirrels were plentiful in the North Carolina highlands which were my boyhood homeland, and they figured prominently on our table not only around Christmas but from early October through February. Here’s a hearty recipe which is one of my favorites.

¼ pound bacon
2 squirrels, dressed and cut into pieces
2 cups dried lima beans, soaked overnight
Flour, salt and pepper for coating squirrels
1 onion, chopped
2 ribs celery, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 tablespoon sugar
1 cup okra
3 potatoes, diced
2 cups frozen corn
2 (16-ounce) cans stewed tomatoes
1 bay leaf
Dash of thyme and parsley
½-1 teaspoon crushed red pepper (if desired)

In Dutch oven fry bacon and remove. Brown squirrels in bacon drippings; cover squirrels, bacon, beans, onion, celery, and carrots with boiling water. Simmer for two hours. Squirrel meat may be removed from bones at this point if you desire. Add remaining ingredients and simmer for one hour longer or until squirrel and vegetables are tender. Thicken with flour and water paste if desired and adjust seasonings as necessary. Serves 6 to 8 and warms over nicely.

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PAPRIKA RABBIT

My Dad raised beagles and we hunted cottontails with great eagerness from opening day (Thanksgiving) until the season closed at the end of February. A good outing would produce 20 to 25 rabbits, so we had plenty of this fine meat for the family table.

½ cup butter or margarine
¼ cup olive oil
1 rabbit, quartered
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium fresh tomato, peeled, chopped
1 tablespoon paprika
Salt and pepper to taste
½ cup water
½ cup or more of sour cream

Heat butter and oil and sauté rabbit until brown; remove from pan and add onion and tomato and sauté until tender. Add paprika, salt and pepper and stir constantly for about a minute. Add water and mix well. Place rabbit back in pan and bring to a boil; reduce heat, cover and simmer. Add water as needed when liquid cooks down and cook until rabbit is tender and only a few tablespoons of liquid remain. Add sour cream and bring to a simmer. Do not boil. Serve with pasta or rice. Note: Pheasant can be prepared using this recipe.

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