I do have some serious questions about any recollections you have of your dad smoking with corn cobs, but let me start it off with a little story, since we both remember "the olden' days".
We had an old neighbor, named Inor Johnson. As with many of us farm folks, "back in the days", he had what we called a "Privey", an "out house" for you unlearned.
Inor didn't have a sheet of TP or even a Sears & Roebuck catalog in his privey. What he did have, was 2 buckets filled with corn cobs. One had red (field corn) cobs in it, the other had white (sweet corn) cobs in it. Being, the curious type of kid that I was, one day I asked him, "Mr Johnson, (back in those days, you addressed your elders as Mr. and Mrs. out of respect) why do you have those buckets of corn cobs in your Privey?" Inor laughed, and said, " Oh, dats so I nos when da constitution is dun. Ya gotta uce tu a dem dere red wons, den ya gotta uce won a dem dere white wons, ta see if ya need to uce sum mor a dem dere red wons."
That's a joke that I know Inor would approve of. He had a terrific sense of humor.
Yes, we really did have a neighbor named, Inor Johnson. He was an immigrant from Denmark, and he did in fact, talk just like that. We loved Inor and his wife, Greta. They were wonderful neighbors, and treated us kids as if we were their own. They were WWII relocation refugees. They had lost both of their sons in the war and never heard anything about what ever happened to them. Can you imagine the sorrow of that? I never understood why, but the government moved them somewhere else very quickly one day. We never heard from them again, but I do reflect on them from time to time.
Boy, is that off subject! I may need to write a book someday of my recollections as a farm kid growing up on the cusp of the "old ways" and the new.
Now, back to the corn cobs. Pops, what do you remember about them? Were they white cobs, red cobs, or a combination of both. Were they dried cobs or were they a bit wet. Can you tell us everything you remember about how your dad used them? How the meat was hung. The type of smokehouse that was used. The heat souce and tending that was necessary? I know you've posted some about this in the past, but it's so scattered that it's hard to put it all together. I know you are proud of your past experiences and you most certainly should be. The Artisian of the past is rapidly getting away from us. If we don't let others know about this stuff it's going to be lost forever. We know you are a terrific resource of information that is tried and true over time, having grown up with it. Some how, some way that has to be passed on.
Maybe Jeff should consider that as a regualr future newsletter feature. Interview some of the old timers with meat cutting, sausage making, and smoking meat backgrounds and just let them recall it all. Let it all hang out, for the rest of of us to learn from and hopefully keep the goodness of the past alive in some way.
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We had an old neighbor, named Inor Johnson. As with many of us farm folks, "back in the days", he had what we called a "Privey", an "out house" for you unlearned.
Inor didn't have a sheet of TP or even a Sears & Roebuck catalog in his privey. What he did have, was 2 buckets filled with corn cobs. One had red (field corn) cobs in it, the other had white (sweet corn) cobs in it. Being, the curious type of kid that I was, one day I asked him, "Mr Johnson, (back in those days, you addressed your elders as Mr. and Mrs. out of respect) why do you have those buckets of corn cobs in your Privey?" Inor laughed, and said, " Oh, dats so I nos when da constitution is dun. Ya gotta uce tu a dem dere red wons, den ya gotta uce won a dem dere white wons, ta see if ya need to uce sum mor a dem dere red wons."
Yes, we really did have a neighbor named, Inor Johnson. He was an immigrant from Denmark, and he did in fact, talk just like that. We loved Inor and his wife, Greta. They were wonderful neighbors, and treated us kids as if we were their own. They were WWII relocation refugees. They had lost both of their sons in the war and never heard anything about what ever happened to them. Can you imagine the sorrow of that? I never understood why, but the government moved them somewhere else very quickly one day. We never heard from them again, but I do reflect on them from time to time.
Boy, is that off subject! I may need to write a book someday of my recollections as a farm kid growing up on the cusp of the "old ways" and the new.
Now, back to the corn cobs. Pops, what do you remember about them? Were they white cobs, red cobs, or a combination of both. Were they dried cobs or were they a bit wet. Can you tell us everything you remember about how your dad used them? How the meat was hung. The type of smokehouse that was used. The heat souce and tending that was necessary? I know you've posted some about this in the past, but it's so scattered that it's hard to put it all together. I know you are proud of your past experiences and you most certainly should be. The Artisian of the past is rapidly getting away from us. If we don't let others know about this stuff it's going to be lost forever. We know you are a terrific resource of information that is tried and true over time, having grown up with it. Some how, some way that has to be passed on.
Maybe Jeff should consider that as a regualr future newsletter feature. Interview some of the old timers with meat cutting, sausage making, and smoking meat backgrounds and just let them recall it all. Let it all hang out, for the rest of of us to learn from and hopefully keep the goodness of the past alive in some way.
ShortEnd
