NOVEMBER NOSTALGIA
One of my favorite outdoor writers, Havilah Babcock, had a real knack for storytelling as well as book titles. In the latter regard, one of his collection of tales is My Health Is Better in November. It comes from Babcock’s consuming passion for bird hunting and the fact that the quail season always opened in late November. During my boyhood that was likewise the case, but it was another season opening linked to the same month, the one for hunting rabbits, that meant the most to me. As a boy I was absolutely consumed by everything connected with the joyous mayhem involving a bunch of beagles, boyhood hunting buddies overseen by a couple of adults, and the quest for cottontails. So much was that the case that in the foolishness associated with being a teenager, a bunch of us “created” a club we called the R. E. A.
Those letters stood for Rabbit Extinguishers of America. Our exuberance obviously outreached our collective vocabularies, because we meant “Exterminators.” Still, you get the general picture, and lest there be any doubts about the earnestness of our devotion to the chase, we actually had front bumper plates made from pot metal bearing a logo and proclaiming that we were established in 1958. I’ve still got one of them, and it didn’t matter than most of us boys lacked one essential when it came to displaying the plate; namely, a vehicle. That was in a time when most families had only a single vehicle, as often as not bought second-hand (such was the case in my family), and few indeed were the teenagers who had their own car. Today a kid without a car things they are living a life of deprivation and the subject of parental mistreatment. How things have changed on that front and so many others.
There is, however, one area where there has been little change, and least on a personal level, and that is in my enthusiasm for November. Given October’s sheer delight, there might be temptation for a time of despair or dread of what lies ahead in November. Yet the month is a time for giving thanks and possesses so many delights there’s reason aplenty to wax nostalgic.
All of this traces back to boyhood. Ours was anything but an affluent family, but we were rich by other measures. We didn’t own a television, and that meant that once cold began to strengthen and nights began to lengthen in November, books became staunch and rewarding companions. Likewise, there were good family times cracking black walnuts, popping popcorn, listening to Sunday night radio programs, or sharing singularly satisfying food with friends or extended family.
Early November afternoons were filled with squirrel hunting, but as has been noted above, all of that changed with the coming of Thanksgiving and the arrival of rabbit hunting season. Then too, I could always look for scout for prime forked dogwood stock for making slingshots, cut some cane poles for fishing when spring rolled around, take our beagles out for a bit of exercise, or read the latest issue of Field & Stream or Outdoor Life in the local barber shop.
Hunting held my November soul, but the month had other appealing aspects as well. One of them was being part of the family hog butchering. Each year my father, along with some of my aunts and uncles, would buy a bunch of shoats and turn them over to Grandpa Joe. He raised them through the summer and come September began fattening them up in a serious way.
Hog-killing time, at least for a small boy, offered a day of delight. For the adults it meant long hours of sheer drudgery, but the end results were well worth it. Our family hog killing invariably came on the first Saturday in November which was cold. Grandpa took care of the killing, always being careful to separate each hog in turn so that the others couldn’t see its demise. Whether it was true or not, he firmly believed that seeing one of their hog lot brethren die would mean “off” meat in other pigs.
Then came work–lots of it. Our processing involved backbones and ribs, tenderloin, sausage, hams, and what are today called Boston butts. Both Grandpa and Dad had their own ways of preparing sausage and curing hams, but most everything else was canned. For that matter, the sausage, after having been made, was canned as well. Both cooked sausage and cracklin’s went into jars which were then topped with liquid lard before being sealed. What I remember best, however, is the incomparable taste of a slab of fresh tenderloin for breakfast, laid, fresh from the frying pan, atop a cathead biscuit. There would be milk gravy adorning a second cathead on the plate beside a brace of eggs, and if somehow a greedy-gut youngster wanted more, there were always spare biscuits to be decorated with butter and a hefty dose of molasses. The only thing to match it, breakfast-wise, would come weeks later in the form of biscuits, cuts of fried country-cured ham, redeye gravy, and grits.
Another personal favorite coming out of hog-killing time, although it was featured at dinner (that’s the mid-day meal in my world) was cracklin’ cornbread. Until you’ve eaten it, made with buttermilk and a plentitude of cracklin’s (none of this nonsense involving sugar mixed with the cornmeal), you’ve lived a life of culinary deprivation. Pork was the main winter meat in the mountains of my boyhood, but come Thanksgiving there would be baked chicken and all the fixin’s. Yet there are other memories that haunt even as they evoke happiness.
*There were heavy frosts, big enough, in the words of a late friend, “to track a rabbit.”*November was apples enjoyed in a myriad of fashions—raw, stewed, baked, in cobblers, as a key ingredient in Mom’s applesauce cake, in fried pies, and much more.
*The month meant the annual renewal of performances of the incomparable hallelujah chorus of a half dozen beagles hot on the trail of a cottontail.
*November was returning home from a long day afield, deliciously tired; clothing adorned with a fine potpourri of beggar lace, nettles, and cockleburs; and happy in a fashion only long hours spent hunting can produce.
*It was sitting down to a supper at the end of such a day, with Momma’s simple but scrumptious cooking—maybe some hamburger gravy, a pone of cornbread, applesauce from the fruit of our own trees, greens in which bits of turnip were swimming, and maybe cobbler for dessert. No four-star Parisian restaurant ever served more satisfying fare.
*It was listening, star struck, to Grandpa Joe reminisce, almost teary-eyed, about the days when the grand American chestnut still ruled supreme in mountain forests.
*It was the fulfillment and quiet satisfaction of another growing season come to an end with fodder in the shock and pumpkins in the cellar.
*November was special gifts enabling the wanderer to notice things which are all but invisible in spring and summer. Signs of one-time human presence, distant vistas which had been blocked by vegetation, sprightly plants such as galax or partridge berries, maybe the red seed pods of hearts-a-bursting-with love or jack-in-the-pulpit. All a feast for knowing eyes.
*It’s memories of pockets filled with chinquapins and cute girls with coy chinquapin eyes.
*The month is, in short, one for remembering, and in doing so I am reminded, as one of my favorite writers, Robert Ruark, once said in reflecting on his experiences, “I reckon I had a mighty good time as a boy.”
THIS MONTH’S SPECIALS
I describe several offerings of reductions (with Christmas in mind) below, but first let me mention a book that is just out. It is a reprint of Elizabeth Powers and Mark Hannah’s classic work, Cataloochee: Lost Settlement of the Smokies. The original had become extraordinarily rare and seldom indeed appeared on the out-of-print market, so Western Carolina University (WCU) decided to reprint this regional classic in their ongoing efforts to make rare works on the Smokies and southern Appalachian region available. I was delighted to provide a new Introduction to the work, as I did for a similar reprint they published of Sam Hunnicutt’s classic, Twenty Years Hunting and Fishing in the Great Smokies. The work is now out as a paperbound volume of xx, 318 pages. My Introduction covers pp. 1-7. Signed copies, at a very reasonable price of $22 (plus $6 shipping) area available from me.
With the time for getting Christmas gifts for friends and loved ones at hand, I’m offering several options for the reading sportsman, cook, outdoors lover, or anyone who finds joy in living close to the good earth. Here are the offers, and please no PayPal orders on these specials. Postage is $5 for the first book and $2.50 for additional ones (maximum of $10). Send payment to Jim Casada, 1250 Yorkdale Drive, Rock Hill, SC 29730.
A Smoky Mountain Boyhood. This is a longing, loving look back at what I now know was a truly magical youth. It won a number of awards when published. $23.
Fishing for Chickens: A Smokies Food Memoir. This book is also autobiographical, with the focus being on the foodways of my family and the mountain people I grew up among in the Smokies. It includes not only narrative but some 200 recipes. $21.
Celebrating Southern Appalachian Food. Co-written with Tipper Pressley, this is a cookbook, with lots of narrative material and food lore included, offering recipes from our families and friends but mostly our own kitchens. $18.
Archibald Rutledge anthologies. I’ve done five of these—Hunting and Home in the Southern Heartland: The Best of Archibald Rutledge; Tales of Whitetails; America’s Greatest Game Bird, Bird Dog Days, Wingshooting Ways; and Carolina Christmas. Any one of these $20 or all five for $90 postage paid.
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JIM’S DOIN’S
There are a bunch of things to report from recent weeks. Any occasion when I can get together with longtime friends from the world of outdoor communications is a good one, and early this month I did just that, in company with a lady friend I’ve known since we were in the first grade together, at Reelfoot Lake in West Tennessee. It was restful, uplifting, and pretty much pure pleasure other than the long, long drive.
Just before leaving for that gathering, where there’s pickin’, singin’, and grinnin’ (I’m helpful only in the latter capacity), not to mention lots of fine food and the kind of camaraderie that comes from interaction with friends of many decades standing, a supply of a new book for which I provided a lengthy Introduction, Cataloochee: Lost Settlement of the Smokies, arrived. Getting to the finish line wasn’t without some glitches and jammed gears, but I’m pleased with the finished product. See the book specials above if you are interested in obtaining a copy of a work that was, until this reprint, basically impossible to find.
Otherwise, there’s been a bit of deer hunting, dealing with a balky back that periodically reminds me I’m not longer a spry fellow who felt bullet-proof, coming to grips with contractual agreements on two books (more on that to come in the near future), and plugging away as ever while trying to swap words for nickels in an era when pay both pay rates and publication opportunities are down. The life of a freelance outdoor writer becomes ever more challenging, and I’m happy beyond measure to have been fortunate enough to be in on the tail end of a golden era for sporting scribes.
RECIPES
A couple of weeks back a most gracious reader from Maryland, Keith Lockwood, sent me a big box of pecans (and there were some scrumptious pieces of jerky included as well). Pecans are a versatile, tasty, and nutritious nut. They are also far easier to handle, at least if you’ve got a pecan cracker, than the like of black walnuts. As a sort of tip of the hat to Keith and in recognition of the fact that pecans often figure prominently is Thanksgiving and Christmas treats, this month’s offerings all feature pecans.
PECAN SPREAD
½ cup butter, softened
3 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup finely chopped pecans
1 tablespoon honey
¼ teaspoon salt or to taste
Cream butter and cheese together. Add finely chopped nuts, honey, and salt. Serve as a spread for bagels, biscuits, banana bread, or crackers.
HUCKLEBERRY PECAN BREAD
¾ cup sugar
½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup butter, melted
1 egg
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ cup milk
1 cup huckleberries or blueberries (fresh or frozen, if the latter, thaw and drain well)
½ cup chopped pecans
Cinnamon sugar to taste
Cream sugar, salt, and melted butter. Add egg and beat well. In separate bowl, sift flour, baking powder, and cinnamon. Add flour mixture to creamed mixture alternately with milk; blend well. Gently fold huckleberries and nuts into batter. Pour into 9 x 5 x 3-inch prepared loaf pan. Sprinkle a very light coating of cinnamon sugar on top. Bake at 375 degrees for forty-five minutes or until golden brown and bread tests done in center with a toothpick. Cool in pan for ten minutes before serving. For a decorative touch, place pecan halves atop the loaf midway in the baking process.
OATMEAL COOKIES WITH PECANS
½ cup sugar
¼ cup packed brown sugar
1¼ cup butter
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups oats, quick cooking or regular
1½ cups flour
1¼ teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup raisins
2 cups coarsely chopped pecans
Cream sugars and butter; add egg and vanilla. Place dry ingredients in separate bowl and mix well. Add raisins and walnuts to dry ingredients. Thoroughly combine creamed mixture and dry ingredients. Drop by tablespoons onto cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for eight to ten minutes or until golden brown (do not overcook if you want soft, chewy cookies). Yields about three dozen cookies.
PECAN DRESSING
½ cup butter or margarine
1 cup finely chopped celery
1 cup finely chopped onion
1 cup cooked, chopped pecans
6-8 cups cornbread crumbs (homemade is better)
1 egg, beaten
2 (or more) cups chicken or turkey broth
Salt and pepper to taste (those who like sage can add it as well, but keep in mind it has a dominating flavor)
Melt butter in skillet and sauté celery, onion, and nuts. Cook slowly over low heat for 10 minutes; stir frequently as this burns easily. Add to cornbread crumbs in mixing bowl. Add beaten egg and broth, mixing well. Dressing must be VERY moist; add more liquid if needed. Season to taste with salt, pepper and sage (omit sage if you wish, which I do). Bake in casserole dish at 350 degrees for 30 to 45 minutes or until golden brown.
TIP: Leftover dressing is just as tasty as when the preparation has just come from the oven, and it can be reheated for a side dish, adorned with gravy, or mixed with chopped up chicken or turkey and fried as cakes.
PECAN BARS
CRUST
½ cup butter
½ cup packed brown sugar
1 cup flour
FILLING
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs, beaten
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 teaspoons flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
1½ cups shredded coconut
1 cup chopped pecans
Cream butter and brown sugar. Slowly add flour and mix until crumbly. Pat into 7- x 11-inch baking dish. Bake for 8-10 minutes at 350 degrees until nicely browned.
For the filling, combine brown sugar, eggs, salt, and vanilla. In a separate bowl, add flour and baking powder to coconut and pecans. Blend into egg mixture and pour over baked crust. Return to oven and bake for an additional 15 to 20 minutes or until done. Cut into bars and place on wire racks to cool.