A Feast of Bones
Ghosts of Christmases Past nourish us once more
(Last minute shopping? I’m here for you! A card will be sent to let your recipient know just how special you believe they are!)
The problem begins with having no interest in venturing outside in the wind and snow and ice. It’s complicated by not having much food in the house. The people living with me would counter that there is actually nothing. I cleaned out the refrigerator over the weekend in anticipation of making holiday dishes ahead of time (I haven’t). The cupboards are filled with things I thought the family would like to eat (they don’t), such as tins of sardines for a pasta sauce I love. Crowded around the sardines are various condiments, almost empty peanut butter jars and various cans of ingredients left over from long forgotten dishes I made years ago. There’s a surprising number of different vinegars and honey, and bags of different Red Mill flours purchased last year for experiments in gluten-free baking. The lack of provisions is made more fraught by my husband’s two brothers driving in for the holidays. They are very hardy eaters.
The freezer is a last resort, stuffed as it is with many mysterious aluminum and plastic wrapped objects. I dig and dig and dig until I reach the bottom and find a bag marked “bones.” They’re white with frost, evidence of how long they have been buried. It looks like a mass grave inside. After a long wash the bones are identified as joints harvested over the years from past Christmas hams.
My mom was justly praised for the bean soup she made from a couple of ham hocks. I hated being forced to slurp a big bowl of it for Saturday dinners. I am a little more sophisticated now and appreciate her recipe scrawled on a stained piece of notepaper. A big pot of ham and bean soup would hold us over and be welcoming to the visiting brothers.
Change of plans: there is only a bag of lentils and a can of chickpeas in the cupboard. However, and as contrary as this may sound, I do have a small head of red cabbage in the vegetable bin, although I can’t remember why. Cabbage instead of beans, one of the vinegars in the cupboard instead of ketchup. The rest of my mom’s recipe remains the same. Into the big soup pot go onions, garlic, carrots and celery. The ham bones are laid on top. All is covered with water and the pot placed on the back burner, brought to a simmer. The rising fat is skimmed throughout the day. In the evening, the family sits down to large bowls of cabbage soup and buttered bread. It’s red color is holiday festive. The little hill of sour cream in the center of each bowl reminds us of the prettiest aspect of the snow covering the garden and trees outside. Our spirits are raised, stomachs pleased. Problem solved for now.
From the cookbook shelf:
Three books of note for these economically challenging times. They offer readers helpful guidance and recipes that allow them to dine well without breaking the bank.
The American Frugal Housewife. Dedicated to those who are not ashamed of economy, by Mrs. Lydia Maria Child, published in1832. Mrs. Child is not a very warm personality but she is good company. She has a lot to say about every aspect of life and says it quite forthright. She doesn’t approve of idleness in anyone above the age of six years old. She doesn’t care for show. Self-denial leads to happiness and respectability. She is adamant about avoiding the waste of time and household provisions. One example of Mrs. Child’s edict is the command to use every part of an animal. Although I will confess to never making it, my favorite recipe is for baked cod head:
First make some stuffing with one pound of bruised crumbs of butter, mixed with six ounces of chopped suet, two eggs, chopped parsley, onions, and thyme, and seasoned with pepper and salt. Put this stuffing inside the cod’s head, and place it in a baking-dish with two ounces of butter, a gill of vinegar, and a pint and a half of water. Spread a little of the butter all over the cod’s head and then a thick coating of bread-raspings (fine bread crumbs) all over it; bake for an hour in the oven. A few oysters would be an improvement.
A Plain Cookery Book for the Working Class by Charles Elmé Francatelli (1861). Francatelli’s resume includes being head chef to several Lords and Queen Victoria who, for still contested reasons, abruptly left her service. He is more sympathetic to the plight of the less fortunate who need to stretch their pittance wages. Like Child, he champions the delights of eating every part of an animal: intestines, kidneys, heart, liver, feet, and, of course, heads. Given his background as a fine chef, his recipes differ by being a little more refine. Most will feed a family of six or more but the one below produces a great quantity for distribution among the poor.
It is customary with most large families, while living in the country, to kill at least some portion of the meat consumed in their household; and without supposing for a moment that any portion of this is ever wasted, I may be allowed to suggest that certain parts, such as sheep’s heads, plucks, shanks, and scrag-ends, might very well be spared toward making a good mess of soup for the poor. The bones left from cooked joints, first baked in a brisk oven for a quarter of an hour, and afterwards boiled in a large copper of water for six hours, would readily prepare a gelantinized foundation broth for the soup; the bones, when sufficiently boiled, to be taken out. And thus, supposing that your copper is already part filled with the broth made from bones (all the grease having been removed from the surface), add any meat you may have, cut up in pieces of about four ounces weight, garnished plentifully with carrots, celery, onions, some thyme, and ground allspice, well-soaked split peas, barley, or rice; and as the soup boils up, skim it well occasionally, season moderately with salt, and after about four hours’ gentle and continuous boiling, the soup will be ready for distribution. It was the custom in families where I have lived as cook, to allow a pint of this soup, served out with pieces of meat in it, to as many as the recipients’ families numbered; and the soup was made for distribution twice every week during the winter.
How to Eat Better for Less Money by James Beard and Sam Aaron (1954, revised 1970). I found my copy in an antique store while on the great pie expedition. Beard wrote the first edition to fill what he considered to be a gap in cookbooks. His would “give readers realistic, down-to-earth approach to the subject of eating well without straining the food budget.” He renewed the book in 1970 because, “the subject has become even more timely, as the cost of living continues to climb.” Aaron, a renown expert on wine and spirits, was brought in to guide readers in the art of making good cocktails and buying wines at a reasonable price. There is much to learn and admire in the book. It is often found in second hand bookstores.
1 1/2 cups lentils or green split peas 8 cups stock made with ham bones 1 large onion stuck with 2 cloves 1 bay leaf 2 cloves garlic Scraps of ham from the bones Salt, freshly ground pepper, to taste Crisp fried croutons Cornbread (optional)
Soak the lentils or split peas overnight, unless they are the quick-cooking variety. Wash them and add to the stock with the onion, bay leaf and garlic. Bring to a boil, skim off any scum, reduce the heat and simmer until the peas or lentils are thoroughly cooked. Add the ham scraps and cook a little more until the meat is heated through. Remove the bay leaf and onions and season to taste. Top with the crouton and serve with hot corn bread. This with a salad and hot apple pie is a big meal.
Happy holidays, my friends! How about spreading the joy of reading by sending today’s story to your near and dear?
* The Story of the First Rockefeller Christmas Tree Courtesy of Untapped New York
In December 1931 most New Yorkers were suffering from the economic devastation caused by the Great Depression. On December 24 the New York Times reported a surplus of unsold Christmas trees since people weren’t able to afford them: “Christmas trees were a glut on the market yesterday…. More than 120 carloads of trees remain unsold.” In contrast, the Rockefeller Center project employed close to 40,000 people desperate for work. So that Christmas Eve, the construction workers, grateful to have jobs, decided to pool their money and purchase one of those surplus trees.
They took a twenty-foot balsam fir and put it up in the center of the newly cleared work site. The men decorated the tree with various items including tin cans, cranberries, and paper garlands made by some of their families. The tree was not lit, but the foreman placed a small table under it where he handed out the worker’s paychecks before they went home to their families for the holiday.
Soup sounds good to me with temps in the twenties!
Delicious--flavored with memories, finest kind!