Ginger Beer

Ginger beer is not part of the inherited recipes past down to me by my family, but it is a traditional New England brew according to Gaspee.Com.  We tried using the easy Food Network recipe but even double strength, it was not strong enough for Rob.  He has been tasting some Caribeean ginger beers and he wants that bite. Maybe the next time, we'll try the New England recipe! It will be a lot less messy- even though I would prefer using fresh ginger!

Three sisters on the porch

When I was growing up in Medway MA, everyone in our neighborhood had 1/2 acre lots.  In the old days, it seemed, everyone had their own vegetable gardens, but by the 1960's most families used this extra space to play baseball.

Our Dad, though was a farmer who had gone to college hoping one day to bring modern agricultural methods to his family farm in Glastonbury CT, but found that it was hard to raise five children on the $50/week his parents paid him as a laborer on their tobacco farm.  My Mom wanted to live in a nice house with modern furniture and have the latest conveniences, so Dad left the farm to go work at Pratt and Whitney until the steel strikes in the late 1950's.

In March 1960, he nearly lost his leg.  He was very proud of his strength and could lift small tractors onto trucks- so when he encountered someone with a car stuck in a snow bank during a freak spring storm, he stopped and tried to help lift it out.  Instead he slipped and the car landed on his leg. They thought that they would have to cut off his leg but when it was learned that he had five children under 7 years of age, Dr. Nathanson, an obstetrician at the hospital, decided to do his best to save the leg.  He not only saved the leg but became my Mom's OB and delivered my two youngest sisters.  But Dad couldn't operate a screw machine any more.  But he did have his college education, so Dad became a teacher at the Norfolk Country Agricultural High School (the Norfolk Aggie).

Ironically, it was in college that my father discovered that the old ways taught by the American Indians to the pilgrims and then by the pilgrims to his Barnstable ancestors was the best way to preserve and protect the land.  He was an environmentalist in 1950, and an organic farmer in the 1960's.  He took the lot on the side of the house that we rented, and turning it into an organic vegetable plot. The food that he raised was magnificent! By the time we left Temple Street in 1968, there were nine hungry people in our family and we never had to buy vegetables.  Every spring, he had a truck full of manure land on our little side lot.  Then a tractor came spread it, then a few days later another tractor came to plow it under the soil and the land was ready for planting.  All of the plants were placed in such a way that one plant nourished, supported, and protected the other- so there was no need for pesticides or chemical fertilizer- all was in balance.

Now it is nearly 50 years since my Dad tried to teach me his methods, and I am stuck trying to raise whatever fresh food that I can on the porch of my apartment.  I live in Florida, so the seasons that my ancestors have followed for thousands of years mean nothing. We plant in the fall and harvest mid-winter. Plant in January and harvest in April.  I find myself writing about succotash and taking a 5 gallon drum full of soil and trying to plant a single mound with the three sisters (corn, lima beans, and pumpkin) to see what will happen.  We should have some growth and we'll see if we get any food.  Luckily, unlike my ancestors, I will not starve, so it is OK to fail.

I am also learning exciting things like worm composting and the like- will update you as we go along.

Succotash

For me, succotash is a dish that speaks of heritage.  Our family is descended from the very early settlers that came to Barnstable, MA in 1639, so they coexisted side by side with the pilgrims who lived only a few miles away.  One of my earliest memories was my father showing me the earth in the vegetable garden- smelling the richness of the black soil with all the life teaming inside.  He taught me about the three sisters- corn, beans, and squash- how they grow together- each complimenting the other- each providing what the other needed to grow.

Another early memory was my grandfather's dairy herd.  First thing in the  morning, the cows would go out to the meadows, they would graze all day in the sunshine, and at sunset they would come in to give the most wonderful milk I have ever tasted.  Some fields would be allowed to grow wild all summer and those would be cut down in late August to make hay.  There is nothing like the smell of hay drying in the sun- it's like summer in a bundle.  That hay was the food for the cows in the winter.  Although the Lieblers had a pasteurizer for the milk that they sold, the milk that the family drank was always raw milk.  I never had an ounce of pasteurized milk until we moved to Medway when I was 7 years old.  It took several weeks to get used to the taste- hard to say what the difference was- guess it was just more dead.  Even that milk though was more alive than homogenized milk.  Milk that is low-temp pasteurized has this wonderful cream that comes to the top- and to this day, I will pay a lot more for milk if it is not homogenized.

To make my grandma's succotash in the fall, you need to go out to the fields in early spring, spread a layer of fresh manure, till it under the ground and plant corn, lima beans, and pumpkins in a mound- let them grow until the corn is tall with full ears, and the lima bean plant has full green pods.  Then you take 3 or 4 ears off the corn plant, and fill a colander with lima beans.  Get into a rocking chair on the porch with a good view of the woods and start to open the lima bean pods and remove the beans.  I could never shuck lima beans without eating about 1/4 of the raw beans, so when I shuck the beans, I had to pick extra.  When the beans were done, you shuck the corn.  Time to make the succotash!

Succotash is very easy- you take corn, lima beans, butter, salt, pepper, and cream.  You take a great big cast iron skillet, and bring it to temperature with an inch stick of a stick of butter.  When the butter melts, the pan is hot.  Cut the kernels off the cob and be sure to scrape the cob to get as much of the milk as possible.  Then add the lima beans and let them come up to heat.  My mom cooked them just like that- parboiling the lima beans first- seasoning with salt and pepper to taste (lots of pepper- good succotah has a rich peppery taste) but my grandma did something extra special- she took the top cream off the raw milk in the pitcher and just let those beans swim in the cream- soaking up all the goodness- and if needed she added some more.  In the end, it is thick and rich and creamy.

I don't know how to get lima beans- except the frozen kind- but that takes all the fun out of it.  Maybe I need to take a 5 gallon pot- fill it with fertile soil- get a few worms for luck- and plant the three sisters for myself!