A TOAST TO JOHN BARLEYCORN


Edouard_Manet_006Some of us refer to this season as “Fall”, while to others it is “Autumn”, I suppose it depends upon which part of the country one comes from. At any rate, the season between summer and winter prior to the 17th century was referred to as harvest season, and wheat, corn and barley were at their ripest before the winter freeze. The hops too were ready for harvest, which incidentally provided the raw materials and may led to the making of more flavorful beer, since the hops provided the “seasoning” or flavor to the beer.

I have written before about the year during the War, when Oregon’s hop crop was in dire prospect of drying on the bines for lack of harvesters. The city of Grants Pass, Oregon actually closed down banks, shops and postponed school openings. The entire town came out and picked the crop. I was one of the high school students who faithfully arrived at daybreak and stripped the bines of their glory.

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The process of barley harvesting was revered and even mythologized. The song or poem “John Barleycorn” is primarily an allegorical story of death, resurrection, and drinking. The main character, John Barleycorn, is the personification of barley, which is attacked, beaten, and eventually dies—or as we prefer to think of it, grown, reaped, and then malted.

After John Barleycorn’s death, he is resurrected as beer, bread and whiskey, a reference some say, to Christian transubstantiation. There are many different versions of the story, which began appearing around 1568. Scottish poet Robert Burns published his own take on the story in 1782. In the British folksong, John Barleycorn is a personification of the important cereal crop barley and of the alcoholic beverages made from it, beer and whiskey. In the song, John Barleycorn is represented as suffering attacks, death and indignities that correspond to the various stages of barley cultivation, such as reaping and malting.

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Countless versions of the song exist, and though it wasn’t the original, Robert Burns version became the model for most subsequent versions of the ballad. In later years, the words were put to music and one of the most famous of these is by the band Traffic on their 1970 album, “John Barleycorn Must Die”.

An early English version runs like this:

There was three men come out o’ the west their fortunes for to try;
And these three men made a solemn vow; John Barleycorn must die,
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head,
Til these three men were satisfied John Barleycorn was dead.

Jack London gave the title John Barleycorn to his 1913 autobiographical novel that tells of his struggle with alcoholism.

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As truly sad as I am for the death of John Barleycorn, I am happy to say that this years’ harvest has provided the opportunity for many Octoberfest celebrations. We were guests at a local Octoberfest two weeks ago, where eight different beers were sampled, after being served by authentic “German” frauleins dressed in charming costume, and pretzels, German sausage, polka dancing and music got the blood flowing.

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Munich Octoberfest

The two paintings were by Eduard Manet, At the Cafe

BUFFALO WINGS IN CRISIS!


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original watercolor painting by kayti sweetland rasmussen

I was surprised to learn that buffalo do not really have wings! This is not a term that I grew up with. However, the annual frenzy of the Super Bowl is upon us, and it is a known fact that chicken (aka buffalo) wings are one of America’s favorite Super Bowl munchies.

This year, however, the ubiquitous treat is in jeopardy. There might not be enough wings to feed America’s insatiable hankering for Buffalo Wings. This Super Bowl, snackers will have 12.3 million fewer wings to chow down on than last year, according to the National Chicken Council. The culprit: Last summer’s drought drove feed prices up, so farmers couldn’t afford to raise as many birds.

This is at a time when wings are increasingly becoming to Super Bowl parties what eggs are to Easter and candy canes are to Christmas. Snacking is so important to Super Bowl activities, in fact, that many snack makers say the week leading up to the Super Bowl is when they post their biggest weekly sales bump of the year. Avocados are at a rock bottom price to encourage guacamole makers. The potato chip shelves are emptying fast. Cases of beer are sailing out the doors. Is sit any wonder then that America has an obesity problem?

All I can suggest then, is to make a mad dash for the nearest supermarket and load up before the Buffalo wings are history. For we fans in the Bay Area, our pom-poms are dusted off, and front row chairs reserved. Go Niners!!

HOPPIN’ OCTOBERFEST!


A strange title I must admit, but it’s hop season, and time to get crazy. And in case you wonder what the heck I’m talking about, hops are what give your nice tall glass of beer its flavor. Sort of a grassy salt and pepper; hidden from view, but oh so necessary.
I speak with some authority on the subject, having been commandeered as a high school student to help pick the hop crop in Grants Pass, Oregon during the War. By the way, hops are closely related to marijuana, in case anyone is interested. Of course, hops do not contain the stuff that gives pot its signature characteristic, so go ahead and enjoy that glass of beer on a hot afternoon.
Of course, you can use hops in other ways, even as a stuffing for pillows, which is said to bring you some pretty vivid romantic dreams, but the majority is used for beer. Hop bines (that’s correct, bines, not vines climb up wires 25 or 30 feet in the air. They are harvested mechanically now, which is not at all as romantic as when the whole town of Grants Pass turned out in 1942 to strip them off their wires. Meanwhile, it’s October, and time for an Octoberfest!

We all know the most important ingredient for a successful Octoberfest party has to be beer, so invite some guests, draw up a keg, and celebrate the season!
Here is a good supper dish for those waning days of Indian summer, perhaps served with a platter of mixed bratwurst.

BTW, if you haven’t tried Farro, it is an ancient grain which just needs a little more publicity to make everyone on your block “be the first to try”. It is coarse, like barley, and like wheat and barley, needs long simmering to puff it up. It can be served hot, like rice, or chilled like this recipe.

FARRO SALAD
Two or three cups cooked, chilled farro
6 Tbs. toasted pine nuts
2 nectarines, choped
4 ounces crumbled feta
16 finely minced basil leaves
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 Tbs. white balsamic vinegar
1/2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp. pepper

The farro can be used as a base for a hundred different recipes. It is only limited by your own imagination!

THE PERFECT WOMAN


I had a reply to my cake-baking post from my cousin saying she had our grandmother’s White House cookbook from 1910.  It made me remember that I too had a White House cookbook so I began pawing through our library, and found a 1922 edition of the same cookbook.

Mine had not belonged to our maternal grandmother, but to the stepmother of great-aunt Hazel on my father’s side of the family.  Her name, Mammie Whipple, was unfamiliar to me, so I began reading my father’s geneology, written by a cousin of my father.  There was no mention of her except the line on the first page of the book, stating her relationship to a known relative.

Every blank page in the book was filled with her handwritten recipes—all of which strangely enough, are recipes for booze!  One side of my family were teetotal, the other was not, so that explained why Mammie was on my father’s side!  There are recipes for every kind of fruit wine imagineable, also a very detailed recipe for 15 gallons of beer, which included boiling 3/4 pound of hops!

I once picked hops in Grants Pass, Oregon during the war when field help was unavailable.  The entire town closed down until the crop was in.  School was delayed, banks and retail stores closed for several days.  It took a very large amount of hops to weigh 3/4 pound!

Whether Mammie was a good cook I cannot say, but she certainly knew her liquor!  Since Prohibition began in 1920, it would not be a stretch to imagine that there were many households brewing their own in that period.

Alongside the White House book I found another I had not looked at for some time—The Perfect Woman.  It is a large, musty volume dated 1903, with my grandmother’s name in it.  I imagine it is a book which I suspect may have been given to a young lady to guide them in the ways of womanhood.    It announces itself as “Perfect Womanhood for Maidens, Wives Mothers,”  and as a book giving full information on all the mysterious and complex matters pertaining to women.  A voluminous subject covered in 448 pages.

It includes  subjects such as “The Body, the Temple of the Soul”, on through the wedding night, Heredity and How it May Be Overcome” , “Graceful Development of the Body”, child rearing, constipation, and how to cure unimagineable ailments.  A few letters are tucked in here and there from friends giving home recipes and remedies for various childhood indispositions.  One very long letter of 8 pages explains how to cure worms!  Her child, Ralph. suffered terribly from the malady, and when she described what she gave that poor child I wonder if he ever grew to adulthood.

With all those terrifying and unseen dangers lurking for a poor innocent unsuspecting woman, maybe Mammie had the right idea for curing all our ills!

What The Hell!

KSR