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Showing posts with label smoking food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label smoking food. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2018

FOOD PRESERVATION IN APPALACHIA

Canning, Skinning, Smoking, Pickling, Drying, Etc. 

My post about Hog Killing Time In Appalachia from November of 2013 has been one of my most frequently visited, read, and commented upon posts since I began this blog.  A recent review of the comments on that post has motivated me to write about food preservation in general in Central and Southern Appalachia.  Although I grew up in a small country store with access to a great deal of prepared foods, I also grew up in a family which still grew and preserved most of the food we ate in one way or another. My parents, maternal grandparents, and most of my aunts and uncles had survived the Great Depression and were extremely frugal with both money and any other assets they owned.  We hunted and fished opportunistically.  We would seize the chance to kill and eat a passing game animal and fished when the work around the house was done. We knew what a Hoover Box was and how to make and use one.  We never forgot the Hoover Days and always strove to never have to repeat them.  We had no intentions of living in a Hooverville.  My maternal great-grandfather Hence Hicks was murdered hoeing in a corn field in 1935, the height of the Great Depression, because he had $4,100 hidden in his hat band which he had scraped out of the ground with a hoe one dollar at a time. The last milk cow my maternal grandfather, Woots Hicks, ever owned he bought from my father as a springing heifer and paid Daddy with $90.00 of Roosevelt dimes which he and my grandmother, Susie Allen Hicks, had saved one dime at a time.

Woots and Susie Allen Hicks Photo by Roger D. Hicks


I have always known I was very lucky to have had that kind of childhood and I frequently tell people that I and most of the cousins with whom I grew up, by the time we were grown, could have successfully hunted, killed, dressed, and preserved nearly anything from a field mouse to a bull elephant if that opportunity had presented itself to us.  My parents and grandparents had grown up in the Appalachia of the early twentieth and late nineteenth centuries in a time and place where self sufficiency was the most important skill anyone could possess.  They had grown up, as had all of their ancestors and neighbors, in a world where nearly everyone caught, killed, raised, prepared, and preserved everything they ate as well as most of the items they wore.  As little as possible was wasted of any animal or plant they raised or acquired.  They used a variety of methods to preserve food for the long winters and lean times which might afflict them in the future.  They salted, smoked, dried, preserved, canned, pickled, and much later froze nearly all of their foodstuffs and they taught me most of those techniques. My wife and I recently bought and began using a Food Saver vacuum sealer to help us get longer shelf life from our frozen foods.  We don't garden anymore but we often buy in bulk, especially if items are on sale.  We also regularly buy organic, pasture raised chickens from a local Mennonite farmer and freeze them for the year.  We still make shucked beans every year from beans we buy by the bushel and freeze them after drying to prevent insect infestations. We also buy produce from a local Mennonite farmer and preserve some of that as it is available. We will never totally abandon our Appalachian ways; even though my wife is a native of Wisconsin, she has culturally assimilated quite well to Appalachia over the last 26 years.   

Mountain Smoke House by TNYesteryear.com


When I was growing up we raised large gardens, kept small herds of livestock of most varieties, and hunted and fished especially in an opportunistic manner which was intended to maximize our utilization of the resources which were available within several miles of our homes.  My father and maternal grandfather, Ballard and Woots Hicks both told me of having hunted wild hogs as boys and young men.  They also had worn clothes which were partially or wholly made from the hides, pelts, and wool of domestic and wild animals until the paved highways and railroads began to bring store bought food and clothing to the mountains.  Today, although I might not ever be considered a likely candidate to participate in such a thing, I sometimes see episodes of the popular "reality" television shows which put cast members in situations requiring self sufficiency and survival skills and find myself critiquing their performances and making negative comments about how poorly they hunt, fish, build fires, or find enough food to survive. 

Another Mountain Smoke House Photographer Unknown


I will discuss each method of food preservation with which I was familiar in childhood and I am betting that many of my readers of a similar age and time will know some of the same techniques I was taught.  I also hope these same people will still be practicing many of these techniques.  First I will discuss skinning, scaling, gutting, and preparing meat from a variety of animals both wild and domesticated. We fished and hunted small game on a regular basis in my childhood and fresh fish, turtles, squirrels, rabbits, ground hogs, raccoons, and other game animals, as they became available to us, were regularly seen on our tables.  When we were fortunate enough to catch or kill more than we could eat at one or two meals, we preserved that meat for leaner times.  Most fish were cleaned the same way by scaling, gutting, beheading, and frying within as short a time as possible. Today, I never eat fried foods and do not recommend that method to anyone due to the high levels of cholesterol it contains. We generally skinned catfish. There were times when we might be able to catch more fish than we could eat and when this happened we usually froze the extras since I was born in the 1950's when freezers were already popular.  Extremely large amounts, such as fish caught by gigging, on a trot line or in a trap, might be canned at times.  Canning is a particularly favorable method for dealing with bony fish such as suckers, which we usually caught by either gigging or snagging, since the double cooking of hot pack canning and later preparation tends to reduce small bones to an unnoticeable state.  These types of fish would be scaled, gutted, beheaded, and cut into sections before being placed in half gallon or gallon large mouth jars.  They were then cooked in a hot water bath process which would kill bacteria and preserve the partially cooked food for later complete preparation.  At times, we might also use gigging, graveling, or trot line fishing which could produce large quantities and varieties of fish, turtles, and frogs. In my youth in Eastern Kentucky, it was also not uncommon to know of people who were "dynamiting" fish with about a quarter stick of dynamite tied to a rock and thrown in a hole of water known to be heavily populated. I have also known of a few people who used old Army field telephones in small holes of water to obtain fish.  By dropping the wires from the telephone into the water and cranking it vigorously, you could sometimes generate enough electrical charge to obtain fish from a small hole of water. Also, I have seen a practice used at times for fish that I would never advise anyone to use, poisoning a hole of water with either commercial bagged and powdered garden insecticides such as Sevin Dust or crushed walnut hulls placed in the water at the top of small hole of water.  The possibility of poisoning yourself is far too great to ever do such a thing even in desperation. I am not condoning, approving, or admitting to these practices since all of them are illegal.  I am simply stating a fact that they were common in Eastern Kentucky in the 1950's and 1960's.

Canning Jars Photo by "Make It Do"


We rarely got enough frogs, even by gigging, to need to preserve them.  But, on the rare occasions when we did, they would be skinned, cut up and frozen.  In an earlier time, they might have been smoked although I have never eaten smoked frogs.  We would also skin and save the front quarters of larger frogs which most people do not do today.  Turtles, especially by graveling or hand fishing, were more likely to be caught in large quantities and saved for later.  I have never liked cleaning turtles although I love to eat them.  There are several ways to clean turtles and while some of them might be easier than some of the others in my mind there is no really easy way to clean a turtle.  The way we liked best, and to my mind the easiest, is to boil a large container of water such as a five gallon bucket and simply drop the live turtle into the boiling water which kills it instantly and simultaneously loosens and cleans the skin and shell.  I realize full well that this method will cause the squeamish to become somewhat uncomfortable just as will the wringing of a chicken's neck or the breaking of a rabbit's neck by hand with the creature suspended by the hind feet.  But survival fishing and hunting is never for the squeamish anyway.  But the end result of putting a turtle in boiling water is a simpler, faster, easier cleaning process.  The dead turtle is then slit along the joint between the two halves of the shell and the guts are removed.  Due to the placement of turtles at the bottom of the food chain, we never ate turtle hearts or livers as we did with most other animals.  The head is also removed although I did work for several years with a man who also cooked and ate turtle heads. I will never forget the time I walked into his house and saw a large aluminum pot full of turtle boiling merrily along with a large snapping turtle head floating to the top just as I walked by. After the two halves of the shell are separated and the turtle is gutted, the four legs and tail are detached from the shell and skinned.  Along with the neck, these are the bulk of the meat of a turtle but there are also several tasty, meaty chunks of muscle which attach the individual parts of a turtle to its shell.  These must be removed with a sharp knife one piece at a time.  When I was young, we usually fried turtle, but it is also quite good in soups, stews, and stir fries. One of my favorite seasonal meals is the annual Wild Game Night at Natural Bridge State Park  in Slade, KY, where they usually serve an excellent snapping turtle soup which they prepare in a manner very similar to New England Clam Chowder. I cannot vouch for the soup actually being prepared from scratch in their kitchen.  The park could be buying it frozen in bulk from a restaurant wholesaler.  But it is good turtle soup.  Another more modern method of cleaning turtles involves cutting off the head and placing the nozzle of an air compressor in a hole in the skin and inflating the turtle until it separates from the shell.  But no matter how you kill the animal and separate the two halves of the shell, removing the meat from a large turtle is always a slow, time consuming process.  But the bright side of it all is that no matter how you dispatch and clean the animal, the food involved, with its wonderful and unique taste, is well worth the effort.  The most difficult way to clean a turtle is to simply use a very sharp knife to remove the head and separate the shell and is usually the most common method used by the novice.  The more turtles you clean the more willing you are going to become to find a faster, easier way to do the job.  The meaty, reptilian, and slightly fishy taste of a turtle is wonderful and well worth the work no matter how you clean and cook it. When turtle is properly cooked, you will get both a mild reptilian taste and a reminder of the swamp.  As I do every time I discuss eating turtles and frogs, I feel the need to dispel the common myth that they both "taste just like chicken".  I have said before in another post that anyone who believes this has either never eaten good turtle or frog which was well prepared, does not have the sense of taste to discriminate between simple, clean flavors,  or they have been in the habit of frying everything they eat in the same old, worn out grease.  Frogs taste just like frogs and turtle tastes just like turtle. Neither of them tastes remotely like anything else, especially chicken. The same holds true for alligator.  If you are frying either of them, use clean, new shortening and bread them with a combination of meal and a bit of flour, salt, and pepper, and perhaps garlic,  and you will find the real taste of turtle, frog, or alligator.  I have never caught or killed an alligator and don't expect to do so.  But more than twenty-five years ago, when I was working on the Vision Quest Wagon Trains, I knew a few Seminoles in South Florida who hunted alligators on the Brighton Reservation.

Smooth Soft Shell Turtle Photo By Wichita State University



Also, let me help you dispel your persistent belief in one of the great myths about turtles, that they are vicious and "will eat you alive".  Yes, turtles will bite but if you know how to catch and handle them they are relatively harmless no matter what size they are.  First and foremost, grasp a live, conscious turtle only by the tail.  When you grasp them by the tail, it is physically impossible for them to bite you.  Grab them by the tail, lift them off the ground or out of the water and hold them at arm's length from your body until you have a more permanent place to put them.  If you are hand fishing or graveling, when you stick your hand under the creek bank, rock, or sunken object and realize you have a turtle, the first thing you should do is quickly slide your fingers along its spine.  The bony projections on the spine of a hard shelled turtle will always point toward the tail.  Grab the tail and proceed as above.   Also, remember that soft shell turtles are almost never involved in biting.  You recognize them by their long, thin, nose, and soft, smooth, leathery shell.  They are nearly harmless.  Also, never forget that Alligator Snapping Turtles are on the endangered species list and should never be caught, harassed, harmed, killed, or eaten.  Go to a good wildlife identification guide in your state and learn whether Alligator Snapping Turtles are native to your waters, learn to recognize them and differentiate them from other species in your area, and NEVER harm an Alligator Snapping Turtle in any way.  Also be aware that the Spiny Soft Shell Turtle is also endangered and should never be harmed either.  Follow the same precautions about them that you do for the Alligator Snapping Turtle. 

Common Snapping Turtle Photo By State Of Michigan


I also have little tolerance for those people who discuss eating some form of wild game and then provide a way "to get the wild taste out" such as smoking, soaking in salt water, or making jerky or summer sausage.  In my mind, this is just a way for people who don't like wild game to still claim they eat wild game.  For me, the entire point of eating wild game is to find the unique wild game taste which is natural for each species, learn to enjoy it, and justify killing the animal without basically wasting its meat and life in order to appease a desire to appear to be "doing the wild thing".

Frogs are one of the easiest animals in the entire world to clean.  You simply pick up the frog and using your left hand fold it over so that the point where the hind legs join the back is up in the air.  Then you cut the hind legs off and find a point at the pelvis where you can slip a finger between the skin and flesh.  Then the skin will slide off the legs nearly as easy as popping a grape. Cut off the feet and you are done. For larger frogs, we usually also skinned and ate the front quarters which takes only a bit more work.  You cut off the head, remove the front legs and shoulders from the spine, skin it, and you are done.  There is less flesh on the front legs but on a large bullfrog there is far too much to waste.  I prefer my frogs fried much as I would a turtle. But I repeat I no eat fried foods due to the excessive amounts of cholesterol frying produces. Frogs are also good broiled, and cooked in soups. stir fries, and stews.  And, to repeat myself, they do not "taste just like chicken".  At times, I have also eaten frogs freshly caught, skinned, and simply broiled on a stick over an open fire within a few feet of the water in which they were caught. There is nothing better than a broiled frog which was alive ten minutes before it was eaten.

American Bullfrog Photo By MDC Discover Nature


Nearly all small game animals are cleaned the same way but might not be cooked exactly alike.  In nearly all cases, you skin the animal by beginning with a slit in the abdomen, peel off the skin while losing as little flesh as possible, cut off the feet and head, remove the viscera, retain the heart, liver, and perhaps the lungs if you are not too squeamish, and prepare the animal in the style you like best.  But there are a couple of exceptions to this general rule.  With squirrels, you never throw away the head.  It is the best part of the squirrel with the unique taste of the tongue and brain.  Just skin the animal and cut off the ears and nose, remove the eyes and cook the head with the rest of the animal. Some people even eat squirrel heads with the eyes intact but I have never done it.  I have generally not eaten heads from other small game animals but I am sure they are nearly as good as squirrel heads based on how many I have seen Andrew Zimmern eat on television. Squirrels are also sometimes cleaned in a faster, simpler way than other small game.  It is possible to cut the tail from the spine without removing it entirely.  You then place a foot on the tail, grasp the squirrel by the hind legs and pull.  This will generally result in removing the skin along the entire back and part of the sides.  The remaining skin can just be slid neatly off the belly and legs with a small cut here and there. I prefer squirrels cooked in a pressure cooker since they have little to no fat and can become tough if they are not cooked properly.  Then I like to make cream gravy over them and serve them with fresh new peas and biscuits which is a wonderful meal.

Grey Squirrel Photo By Geneblitz


 Ground hogs have musky glands under their armpits which need to be removed which will give the meat a strong, musky taste if they are left intact. I prefer ground hog baked with salt, pepper, and a bit of sage. But younger ones can be fried with success. Another beauty of ground hogs is that they are purely vegetarian and the meat is exceptionally clean in comparison to other animals which sometimes scavenge or even kill smaller animals for food. My mother, when my father had stopped hunting and I was too young to hunt, used to actually pay other older local boys for ground hogs because she loved them so well.  It is also interesting that her parents for several years had a pet ground hog in their home on Rock Fork.  He actually stayed with them for several years and would leave in the fall to go a short distance to hibernate and would suddenly reappear when the ground began to warm up in the spring.

Groundhog Photo by Pestworld.org



Opossums should not  be killed immediately upon capture if possible.  Since they are a bottom tier scavenger and will eat carrion they should be caged and fed fresh fruit, preferably persimmons, for a few days to clean out their system before killing, skinning, and eating. But if you do not have persimmons handy, you can use apples, pears, or any fruit available. Sweet potatoes also work well for cleaning out an opossum. This will result in much better tasting meat. Most opossums are also quite fatty and greasy.  They are best baked over a rack to allow drainage of as much of the fat as possible.  Most of the people I knew as a child baked opossum seasoned with salt, pepper, and sage and baked it alongside sweet potatoes which they say improved the meal.  Raccoons are often the largest small game animal available in Appalachia and a good sized raccoon can sometimes weigh thirty pounds or more.  This means you might have enough meat to freeze half for later.  They are also wonderful baked, barbecued, or stewed.  Rabbits are generally the easiest of the small game animals to clean.  You can simply pick the animal up in one hand along the skin of the back, cut a hole in the skin large enough to insert a couple of fingers, and pull in each direction toward the head and tail.  The entire skin will slide off as easy as pie.  Remove the head, feet, tail, and guts and bingo, the rabbit is ready to wash and prepare. Rabbit hearts and livers are also quite tasty. I love the iron rich taste of nearly all organ meats. Rabbit is probably the cleanest tasting, least gamey meat in the woods and many people who will not touch raccoon, muskrat, or opossum love rabbit.  It can be prepared fried, broiled, boiled, used in soups, stews, or nearly any way you might cook chicken.  But please remember, it does not "taste just like chicken".  With rabbits and squirrels, it is also often possible to get more than you can eat depending on the bag limits in your state.  In that case, clean, quarter, wash, and freeze the extra in meal sized quantities.  You can do the same with any other small game animal if you have more than you can eat on the day you kill them.  Muskrat is wonderful food and my family never ate them.  In my late twenties, I was a Thoroughbred horse farm foreman in Lexington and worked with a maintenance foreman named Harvey "Bull" Jackson who finally exposed me to muskrat.  It can be prepared in most ways you would prepare groundhog or raccoon and it is wonderfully clean, tasty meat. Muskrats are pure vegetarians and this contributes to the clean taste of the meat. One of my most treasured memories is of the Sunday morning Harvey Jackson and I were working and he brought in muskrat he had killed the night before and had his wife, Ruth, prepare for our breakfast in a tack room before we went out to work.  Always remember that muskrats must be cleaned without breaking the musk glands near the anus.  They must be removed without puncturing and will seriously ruin the flavor if left on the animal.  I have seen recipes from Michigan in which muskrats are baked with sauerkraut.  It is not appetizing to me at all even though I like sauerkraut in other ways, but you might try that if you do not like them baked, fried, boiled, or stewed.
  
I have never eaten guinea, goose, porcupine, or armadillo but I have been told by others that all three are good eating.  I live in an area where a few people keep guineas and sooner or later I will buy one and try it.  It might be a little more difficult to find goose but I will get there.  As for porcupine and armadillo, the finding might be even more difficult since neither of them is available in Eastern Kentucky.  I have seen armadillos on a regular basis in the deep south in Georgia, Alabama, Texas, and Florida but I never met anyone who regularly ate them.  It is also wise to remember that the armadillo is the only animal species that can transmit leprosy to humans.  But modern scientific advances have made leprosy easily curable.  So enjoy your armadillo at the next opportunity.  The only porcupine I have ever seen in the woods was in Pennsylvania at a state park called Pit Hole City.

Pit Hole City, a former oil drilling boom town which had completely disappeared over time, was being developed into a park at the time I saw the porcupine.  Candice and I had not been dating very long at that time and we went there to hike and have a picnic.  The woods were quiet and peaceful and we both lay down in the leaves and went to sleep.  Suddenly we were awakened by a rather heavy rustling in the leaves behind our heads.  We had gone to sleep within three feet of a game trail and a large porcupine came sauntering through within a couple of feet of our head.  It ran up a nearby tree when we awoke and jumped up.  I have always thought we were lucky that neither of us made physical contact with the animal when we awoke.  Someday, I hope to find a porcupine in a situation where I can eat it since I have read in numerous places that they are very good eating.

I have also never eaten beaver but they have returned to Eastern Kentucky over the last few years and I have a friend who traps them regularly during trapping season.  He has promised to save a carcass for me after he has salvaged the hide which he sells as a source of income.  I have read that old trappers loved the beaver tail and often lived primarily on those during trapping seasons.  I can't wait to try beaver.  Another word to the wise, if you do decide to eat beaver, remember they also have large musk glands near the anus and those should never be broken during the skinning process.  

These are a few of the wild foods I love best and I hope you love them too.  Always obey the game laws, respect bag limits and seasons, never kill anything you don't intend to eat, and never allow yourself to refuse to try a new food source just because you have never had it.  Bon appetit!  

Sunday, November 24, 2013

HOG KILLING TIME IN APPALACHIA

SUBSISTENCE FARMING IN THE MOUNTAINS

The recent chance encounter which afforded me the opportunity to gain access to some fine hog killing photographs from a friend and a response from another friend to my recent post of those photographs in my "Vintage Photographs From Appalachia" post has put hog killing time in my mind.  I also attended the opening day ceremonies at a local meat packing plant here in Morgan County Kentucky with my wife today.  Therefore, it seems that there could be no better time to discuss raising and killing hogs in Appalachia.  During my childhood in the 1950's and 1960's, my parents always raised and killed at least one hog each year.  Actually, we usually raised two hogs but might not kill both ourselves.  But hogs always seem to be more content, eat better, and mature sooner if they are in numbers rather than alone. 


We never kept brood sows which was more common among our neighbors.  My father would seek out and buy a pig or two from someone nearby shortly after we killed our hog and the process would begin again for the next year.  It was also not uncommon to see him buy an entire litter of pigs if the price was right since he also traded and sold hogs and cattle for most of his life.  Several of my favorite memories from childhood are tied to buying, raising, and killing hogs and I will get to those in a while.  We always kept our hogs in a pen and lot either in the end of our barn or just above the upper edge of our garden.  The placement above the garden allowed the hog manure to wash downhill and fertilize our crops when it rained.  We usually had a floored pen since nearly everyone in the area believed that hogs did better on a wooden floor in the late stages of production.  For about the last month of feeding and fattening, we kept the hog shut up in the pen and out of the mud. We also began increasing the percentage of corn in their feed about two months before killing time and for the last month fed them nothing except corn and clear water which seemed to produce a higher quality meat.  Our hogs were not killed at quite as large a weight as those of most of our neighbors.  My father liked to kill hogs at about 300 to 350 pounds which is actually considered too big by most commercial producers today.  Hogs in Appalachia in general also were considerably fatter than most commercial pork today.  Almost no one today likes to kill hogs at the massive weights of 500 to 600 pounds which were fairly common in my childhood. 


We usually killed our hogs sometime near Thanksgiving or Christmas and generally wanted the weather to be cold if possible since meat was easier to cure and keep in the cold.  My parents, since they owned a country store, owned several freezers and most of our meat was stored frozen.  But we did also salt some, especially side bacon.  We never had a smoke house in my childhood but many of our neighbors still smoked meat regularly.  When the right day for a hog killing arrived, arrangements would be made for several family or friends to be available to help with the process.  A fire would be built before daylight and two large washtubs of water would be set on to boil for the scraping process.  When you scrape the hair from a hog, it is necessary to have the water hot enough to scald the hair without "setting" it.  If water is too hot or is left on too long, the hair follicles will actually overheat or mildly cook, and will be nearly impossible to scrape.  And still today, I believe the two worst smells I know are hot, wet hog hair and hot, wet chicken feathers.  I always disliked scraping a hog and picking a chicken.  But both were necessary skills for any Appalachian child to know if they envisioned a future life on the family farm. 




It is also interesting to me that my wife, Candice, who grew up in rural Wisconsin on a small family farm often had to pick dozens of chickens which her parents raised by the hundred and killed and sold them to their fellow workers at a factory in Milwaukee.  She also got her first job in a duck slaughter house while in high school and picked ducks which were dipped in liquid wax after slaughter to simplify the picking process. 




Killing the hog was the first and one of the most important parts of the process of slaughtering a hog since meat tended to taste bad if the hog did not die quickly and cleanly.  It is widely believed that the fear and excitement of being badly shot would cause the hog to exude large amounts of adrenalin and other hormones which caused the bad taste.  Most people I knew in Knott County preferred to shoot a hog with a 22 rifle, usually a magnum long rifle.  If the shooter was good and the hog was not excited, one shot usually sufficed.  My father preferred to kill the hog with a single blow to the forehead with a 22 ounce framing hammer.  He would pour a small amount of feed on the ground in front of the hog, step up beside its head as it began to eat and swing one quick, heavy stroke with the hammer.  His hogs would always simply crumple up and he would immediately grab a razor sharp Old Hickory butcher knife from his pocket to cut the throat and bleed the hog.  The dead hog would then be placed on a wooden platform, such as a corn sled with the sides removed,  for scraping. Two, three, or sometimes four people would scald and scrape the hog as rapidly as possible with each person, usually men, scraping a particular area.  Ears, feet, and the face are usually the hardest parts of a hog to scrape because of the folds and lines which tend to hide the hair.  When both sides of the hog were thoroughly scraped, it was time to hang it, gut it, and cut it up.  We used a homemade tripod with a cross member with two steel hooks which went in slits behind the tendons above the hocks.  The tripod was made from long poles heavy enough to handle a weight of possibly half a ton.  These tripods were very similar to the tripods which constitute the beginnings of a Native American tipi frame.  The tripod would be laid out on the ground beside and above the hog and the sliced hocks would be hooked to the cross member.  Then two or three strong men would take one leg and slowly bring the entire tripod and hog upright to a hanging position.  It was usually necessary for someone to stand on the ends of the two legs which were opposite the one being lifted in order to avoid slippage and dropping the hog. As small farm tractors became more common in Appalachia, it was also more common to use a welded steel pipe hog hanger which was attached to the three point hitch on the tractor which removed a lot of the truly physical labor from the operation. It was also not uncommon for people to use chain or rope hoists in the aisle of the barn or workshop to hang a hog.  The next operation after the hog was hung was gutting and the most important part of that job was to perform it without slicing the intestines since leakage of manure would severely damage the flavor if it happened. There was also usually a good sized amount of fat in the body cavity which would be removed at this time and sent to the house for lard making with other fatty scraps when the entire process of cutting the meat was complete.  We would always immediately send the heart, kidneys, spleen or melt, and lungs or "lights" to the house for cooking as the first meal from the hog.  We usually saved the liver for a later meal of liver and onions which I still love but rarely eat today. We never ate chitterlings and I have still never done so although I am now willing to try them.  I just haven't had the correct opportunity. The intestines would be the only portion of a hog which we would not utilize.  But that first meal of the organ meats was and still is the best part of hog killing time to me.  I dearly love the "lights".  I have been able over the last several years to find a couple of places where I can arrange to get lungs or "lights" from people who slaughter their own hogs.  Even though it is illegal to sell pork lungs because of the fact that trichinosis bacteria sometimes resides in the lungs, it is possible to find them in a few back road locations.  If they are properly cooked to an adequate temperature, the likelihood of disease transmission is low.  And, to bolster my beliefs about eating pork lungs, the television exotic food expert, Andrew Zimmern also eats pork lungs regularly.  Another of my favorite meals is pork brains fried with eggs which were also often cooked on the hog killing day as well.  I also dearly love good homemade souse made with an old mountain recipe which includes the entire head and feet cooked off the bones and then mixed with pickles, spices, and sometimes extra ears since quite a bit of collagen is needed to help the souse to set up in a firm loaf.  The last really great souse I have eaten was made in 22 Holden in Logan County West Virginia by an old African American woman who was nearly 90 at the time in the late 1980's.  She was a close friend of a woman with whom I worked and made the souse as a favor to me.  I bought a couple of hog heads and she made the souse for half of it.  It was the best souse I had eaten since the death of my mother in 1970. 


After the hog was gutted, it was usually split down the back with a meat saw and then quartered.  From that point on, the meat could be cut and dealt with indoors.  Some, especially the side bacon, might be salted for long term preservation.  At times, people would also smoke hams and some bacon.  Before electricity was common and freezing took over, a lot of meat was smoked, salted, and canned. I still know a few people today who can some meat, especially venison.  Personally , I never liked canned meat.  It always seems to come to the table a bit overcooked because of the initial blanching process during canning.  Once the meat was all properly stored in one manner or another, it was time to clean up, rest, and eat that kettle of fresh organ meats along with potatoes, sweet potatoes, shucked beans, biscuits, gravy, cushaw and some kind of pie or cobbler.  Hog killing day was always a day of hard work, good fun and fellowship, and great food.  It was usually a part of the entire holiday season from Thanksgiving to Old Christmas and it was an integral part of life in the mountains of Appalachia. 

Now it seems like a good time and place to tell a few of my favorite hog related stories.  As I mentioned above, a lot of them are related to buying, selling, or killing hogs.  My father frequently would buy and sell hogs, especially pigs, if he got a deal on which he could make some money.  Once when I was about 12 or 13, he had bought an entire litter of pigs from somebody and eventually sold most of them to a neighbor who lived about two or three miles away across a ridge and down a hollow.  Neither the neighbor or my father drove and part of the deal for the pigs was the offer for Daddy and me to drive them through the woods to the neighbor's house on a Saturday when I was out of school.  At the time, my father was nearly 80 but was still in good shape and the climb up to the ridge and the six mile round trip walk in the  woods was not an extreme work out for him.  We got up at the crack of daylight and fed the pigs so they would not be running to and fro in a hunt for edibles.  Then we set out to deliver them.  The initial trip was not too bad and in a couple of hours we were coming off the ridge toward the neighbor's house which was the last in the hollow.  When they heard us coming,  the neighbor came out and opened the gate on his hog lot and we drove them in.  He paid for the pigs and then said "the old woman is cooking breakfast in there and you all ought to come on in and eat with us".  The house was a small place built of small to medium poplar logs and heated with wood and coal from a nearby coal bank.  We went inside which seemed to surprise the wife who was working on breakfast over a large wood burning step stove.  In addition to the three children who were in my same general age range, there were about a half dozen dogs and a cat or two in the house and several of them had taken up residence near the stove since it was a frosty fall morning.  The woman immediately began shooing them out and one or two small dogs and most of the cats actually ran between the cracks in the logs to escape.  My father had already declined breakfast outside but he had done as he often did with me in such situations and said "that boy might eat though.  He can eat just about any time."  I looked the house over and suddenly realized that the ceiling was not complete and the joists were actually made from small poplar poles and right over the table was an apparent pigeon roost judging by the excrement on the logs. It appeared that the birds were able to enter the house around the eaves and judging by the log joists they were allowed to regularly roost right over the table.  I rapidly declined but the woman kept insisting that we eat.  She already had a large skillet of eggs fried and on the table.  She was working on a large skillet of gravy and shortly took a large pan of big and actually pretty good looking cat head biscuits out of the oven and knocked them out of the pan on the bare table.  A few rolled along the table and one or two even  hit the floor where the dogs and cats had been.  She quickly swooped them up and threw them back on the table right under the pigeon roost.  She then invited us both to sit  and eat and we both claimed to have eaten just before we left the house which was true.  But I do not think either of us would have eaten unless we had been nearly starved.  I will always remember how hard we both worked to avoid eating food on that table although I still today have several fond memories of most members of that family.  And I would also like to say that I mean nothing negative about the conditions in which they were living.  Every member of that family worked every day of their lives and they were doing the best they could with what they had at the time. 

Once I went with my father to buy some pigs from the great Eastern Kentucky Auctioneer Ivan Childers at his farm near Hindman.   We got there and I remember being impressed by the quality of the house, the barns, and the farm in general.  I already knew who Colonel Ivan Childers was but this visit to his fine farm was another key part he played in influencing me to want to be an auctioneer.  We bought a pair of pigs from him and fed them to killing time just as we always did.  I do not remember being on his farm again. 

Buying pigs and separating them from the sow could be a dangerous task if they had not already been weaned.  I remember going somewhere with my father once to buy pigs and the owner had a sow with several pigs in a wire fenced lot behind his barn.  She was lying down nursing the pigs when we arrived and my father chose two sow pigs without going inside the pen.  Then he turned to the seller to ask how we were going to get them away from the sow.  He had a son who was about 14 or 15 and said "this boy can jump over there and pull them off and have them out of there before that old sow even knows he's in there".  I remember thinking at the time that I sure did not want to be anywhere near that old sow when he grabbed the pigs and caused them to squeal.  But as quick as a flash, the boy jumped over the fence, walked over to the nursing pigs, grabbed the two my father had chosen  by the hind leg with one in each hand, and turned in a gallop for the fence.  As soon as the first pig squealed, the sow lumbered to her feet with a malicious snort.  The boy was running toward the fence at full speed.  The pigs were squealing bloody murder with every breath and my father and the seller were waiting to take the pigs from the boy.  As he reached the fence, the old sow was gaining speed and getting closer with every step.  The boy threw both pigs over the fence and, miraculously, my father and the seller caught and held both as the boy put a hand on a fence post to jump the fence.  But just as his rear leg left the ground, the old sow caught up and grabbed him by the loose cuff of his pants just as he went airborne.  The boy was still able to make a clean jump and clear the fence.  But the old sow had a bulldog grip on the pants leg and as the boy sailed over the fence she locked her feet and the pants ripped all the way to the crotch leaving the boy standing on the safe side of the fence nearly naked  but unhurt. 

One of the most influential events in my entire childhood happened in our barn one hot summer day when my father and I were building a hog pen in the end of the shed row.  It was probably either July or August and the barn was hot.  Flies were attempting to eat us and carry the bones home for the children.  The shed row was covered in about an inch of thin, runny cow manure.  I was about 14 or 15 and Daddy was nearly 80 but he was in pretty good shape for a man his age.  We were building the pen out of rough mill slabs which were irregular in width and we had pre-cut them for a length appropriate to the height we wanted the pen to be.  I was hot, tired, lazy, and insolent with the typical teenage insolence  which leads one to believe he is smarter, better, stronger, and generally in all ways the superior of any adult alive.  We got down to the last board and had a space about 6 inches wide left and all our slabs were about 8 to 10 inches wide.  Daddy turned to me and said "hand me that slab over there and I'll see if I can make it fit".  I snorted "that slab won't fit" but handed it to him.  He was squatting in front of the hog pen which most men his  age could not have done.  He took the slab, placed it over the empty space and hit it once or twice with the hammer and then said "it ain't going to fit is it".  I said, "I told you that damn slab wouldn't fit."  It was the first time he had ever heard me curse and it was clearly understood that I was not supposed to curse.  He immediately spun on his heels and hit me with his closed fist in the chest and knocked me over into the cow manure in the shed row.  To be honest, he probably pulled the punch.  But I still went down like a shot and had to cough to catch my breath.  He immediately stood up, reached out and took my hand to pick me up and said "now don't ever let me hear you say that again."  And that was the end of the entire episode and the only time he ever hit me in his life.  I have always been happy to tell that story any time anyone begins a universal attack on physical discipline. I think it was one of the key formative incidents in my childhood.  It taught me a lesson I have never forgotten and gave me a new respect for my father which still lasts to this very day more than 45 years after his death.  Corporal punishment has a place in the family.  It can be productive if used appropriately and it should never be universally banned. 

These hog killing stories and other related to raising hogs have been interesting for me to relate to my audience.  I hope it has been informative and interesting to you as well. 

Addendum April 4, 2017
Over the last several weeks, this post has gotten an inordinately high number of page views for some reason or other which happens from time to time with posts.  I suspect that sometimes these surges in views are related to class work somewhere at either the high school or college level because I sometimes receive messages to that effect or eventually find some of my writing on this blog has been quoted or cited in an article online.  For quite some time, I have considered adding two of my favorite jokes or humorous stories about hogs to this post and here they are.  I might add that they are also both traveling salesman stories which makes them even more up my alley.  If you haven't read my post about country stores and traveling salesmen you can find it at this link.  You might also enjoy this post about Door To Door Sales In Appalachia.
Once a traveling salesman was driving down a country road and saw a farmer in an orchard with a large wicker basket full of pigs under an apple tree.  As the salesman watched, the man would take a pig out of the basket, hold it up to the tree and let it eat an apple.  Then he would put the pig back in the basket and go through the whole process with another.  The salesman stopped and walked over the man and said "If you don't mind, I've been watching you feed these pigs and I think if you would just turn the basket over and let the pigs out you could shake the apple tree and all the pigs could eat at the same time. That would save you a lot of time."  The farmer smiled at the salesman and said, "Well, I reckon it would save a lot to time.  But what is time to a hog?"  

In the other story, the traveling salesman is driving down the road in the country and spies a large shoat with a wooden leg walking around in front of a large, old farm house.  He says to himself, "I just have to hear the story of how that hog got that wooden leg."  The salesman drives up the driveway and knocks on the door.  A woman comes to the door and the salesman says, "I was just driving by and I saw that hog with a wooden leg.  Would you mind to tell me how that hog got that wooden leg?"  The woman says, "I don't mind at all.  That shoat is just like a member of our family.  Our old sow had a litter of pigs in the dead of winter and that one was the runt.  If we hadn't brought it into the house and raised it on a bottle it would have died for sure.  It stays in the house just like one of the family all the time.  We raised it up and a few weeks ago our house caught on fire in the middle of the night.   If it hadn't been for that hog waking us up, we would have all burned up for sure."  The salesman said "So are you telling me that the hog lost its leg in the fire?"  The woman says, "No, it didn't lose its leg in the fire.  But after saving all our lives like that, you don't think we'd eat it all at one time do you?" 



Wednesday, November 20, 2013

VINTAGE APPALACHIAN PHOTOGRAPHS

Feeding The Chickens--West Virginia??--Subjects & Date Unknown--Circa 1945-50 (Roger D. Hicks)



As privately owned cameras became more common in Appalachia after the turn of the 20th century, families began to take photographs of family members and those daily aspects of life which were important to them.  After about 1900 to 1910, we begin to see photographs which are more mundane than the old studio photographs with their stiff, dressed up subjects standing ill at ease and often in front of some contrived background which might have been very unfamiliar in daily life.  Instead, in these family created shots, we see the people of the mountains living their daily lives, killing hogs, feeding the chickens, raising crops, riding horses, going to church, and a hundred other activities of daily life which can be educational, touching, and often heartwarming such as the photo above of a little girl and her dog sitting in the chicken lot with a cooker full of feed and the hens pecking contentedly in the background.  I would love to know who this little girl was and suspect I never will.  I found the photograph in a collection of miscellaneous materials from an estate auction. No doubt she is long dead.  But she reaches out and touches us with her childhood simplicity and happiness in her everyday world. She hangs in a place of honor in my home.

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My  auction ring man, Dewey Rogers, from Tinker Fork of Mud Creek in Floyd County Kentucky is a lifelong collector of photographs and high school year books from the area.  Recently, he brought this photograph of his parents with a very large turnip to one of my auctions.  As soon as I saw it, I knew it was a natural for this post of vintage photographs.  It is the very type of shot I am looking for to depict life in Appalachia as it was 50 and 100 years ago.  It shows two ordinary, hard working Appalachian people with the product of their work, a successful venture in gardening which made the local newspaper, most likely the Floyd County Times which published many photographs like this in the days when it was owned, published, and primarily written by Norman Allen.  This photograph also lies within a general category such as the one below of the cow and calf, a photograph of simple items in life which were important to the subjects.  Hopefully, we will be able to add several more photographs from Dewey's ever expanding collection over the next few years.




Dewey Rogers brought in a couple more photographs for addition to this section.  The better of the two is of his grandfather, George Washington Rogers, who was a mail man in Floyd County many years ago.  It shows G. W. Rogers riding his horse on a snowy day and carrying a large box for delivery to someone who might well have ordered it from a Sears or Montgomery Ward Catalogue as an important addition to the home.  The other photograph is actually not a photograph but a photocopy of one which includes several members of Dewey's extended family including G. W. Rogers.  In spite of the increasingly poor quality of the reproduction from photograph to photocopy to computer, I am including it because it is typical of something that happens with important family photographs.  Often several members of an extended family may want a copy and not everyone has the capacity to have them reproduced so they simply take them to someone with a copier and have a copy made.  This is becoming much less common with the proliferation of computers and scanners into many of even the least wealthy homes.  Here are the newest Dewey Rogers photographs.

George Washington Rogers, mailman (Dewey Rogers)

George Washington Rogers & his extended family (Dewey Rogers)



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I am beginning this posting with this photograph and four others which were loaned to me by Paul Jarrell of P. J.'s Pizza in Banner, KY.  My thanks go to Paul for his willingness to have his family photographs shown to the world at large.  And of course, all aspects of copyright law apply to their potential use by anyone.  I will add to this post as I locate and acquire more photos of everyday life in Appalachia of the past.  I would gladly post photographs from my readers with proper acknowledgement.  If you have photos you are willing to add to this collection, contact me by e-mail at rchicks@mrtc.com or at hicksroger_@Hotmail.com and I will be glad to add and properly acknowledge yours.  I am particularly interested in photographs which show people living life on a daily basis: plowing, working, feeding livestock, planting crops, burying the dead, baptizing the living, and scratching a living from the rocky hills of home. 






WHAT A HOG!!! Jarell Family--Prater Creek, Floyd Co. KY--Circa 1950 (Paul Jarrell)



The photograph above shows the great-grandmother and great aunt of Paul Jarrell at hog killing time on Prater Creek in Floyd County Kentucky with a massive hog, the likes of which are not often killed in the mountains today.  It is a wonderful snapshot of everyday life in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky. 
Hog Killing Time--Jarrell Family--Prater Creek, Floyd Co. KY (Paul Jarrell)


The photograph above shows several members of the Jarrell Family with another hog not nearly as large.  This photograph is also a great shot of family life, subsistence farming, food preservation, and life in general.  I have also included a second photograph of the same hog from a greater distance below. 






Cow And Calf--Prater Creek, Floyd Co. KY--Circa 1950 (Paul Jarrell)

The "cream of the crop", a cow and calf from the family photographs of Paul Jarrell.  This photograph with its highly personal and informative note on the back is typical of the kind of shots I discussed earlier in this posting.  It is about animals which were important to family survival.  It is about everyday life in the mountains and must have been mailed in a letter to a family member who lived too far away to come and see the family and the livestock personally.  The pride of ownership in the note is strong and clear.  These were good animals and they were important to the writer and his/her livelihood.  

Message On Reverse Of Cow/Calf Picture--Prater Creek, Floyd Co. KY--Circa 1950 (Paul Jarrell)



Below we have the second photograph of the same hog above taken from a slightly greater distance and showing only three of the family members instead of the four in the first.  The great aunt is gone from the doorway perhaps to check on the water, the knives, the salt, or the smokehouse.  Daily life is going on and this hog will become much of a winter's food for the family.  
Hog Killing Time #2--Jarrell Family--Prater Creek, KY--Circa 1950 (Paul Jarrell)

 The photograph below is of a distant cousin, Clarence Hicks, who was the son of Banner Hicks and the grandson of Hence Hicks, my maternal great-grandfather.  The photograph was sent to me by John D. Shelton, who is married to a descendent of Hence Hicks.  This is a World War II Era photograph in uniform and was most probably taken shortly after completion of basic training and advanced individual training in preparation for deployment to the combat zones of Europe.  Clarence Hicks was in Battle of the Bulge as a Tank Crew Member and wounded 2 times there and died in 1980 of an aneurysm after returning home which so many other Americans failed to do at the Battle of the Bulge which was one of the most devastating battles of the entire war.   I have written extensively about Appalachian Patriotism, one of the key Appalachian Values first documented by Loyal Jones.  That post can be found here: Patriotism, An Appalachian Value  Literally hundreds of thousands of young Appalachians like Clarence Hicks left the mountains to fight in America's wars. 
 Clarence Hicks (John D. Shelton)