Tag: authenticity

What Table Manners?

On By kittycalashIn Events, Food, History, Reenacting3 Comments

When you think of 18th century dining, which image comes to mind, tea on the left, or the sea captains to the right?

While I did not carouse with sea captains this weekend, at dinner today, I found myself deeply envious of someone’s skill in eating from a knife. I shoveled food onto my spoon yesterday with abandon. I coveted the last three pieces of quince tart today despite knowing that one of those pieces was for my husband. And I am not ashamed. Ok, not too ashamed.

The best part of living history is always what you learn, and I feel a separate blog post should deal with “the public, god love ’em.” What I learned this weekend was less about quilting and more about living old school. Ok, and maybe more about the public’s…breadth….than depth…

The most instructive thing was about being hungry and thirsty. Thirsty as in my lips are dry and I know I need to drink, which means being past thirsty and at dehydrated. Yesterday I went all day without peeing and that’s not right. Both yesterday and today I left the farm hungry, not because there was not food but because I ate mindful of leaving enough for those eating after me. The goose pie was delicious and seriously worth eating standing up in the kitchen. I’d fight for that pie.

Eating boiled dinner (ham, parsnips, carrots and turnips) along with a pudding, with 18th century utensils was challenging. Two-tine forks have great sticking ability but not much carrying ability.  Spoons are your friend. Knives may be better as trowels than cutting implements. No one really cares about your manners, they are too hungry to notice. Boiled pudding is this season’s smash hit.

Coggeshall Farm uses Amelia Simmon’s American Cookery, which I started reading last week. It is full of useful receipts based on American ingredients and I recommend it. Here is the receipt for the fantastic, sliceable pudding we had today:

A boiled Flour Pudding_.
One quart milk, 9 eggs, 7 spoons flour, a little salt, put into a
strong cloth and boiled three quarters of an hour.

There were hot words about those “7 spoons” from the kitchen staff and to be honest, I did not quiz them fully on the size of the spoons they used. But whatever magic they worked, it was truly delicious with and without the molasses cream sauce. Sliced and eaten with spoon or fingers (I snitched some later in the kitchen), it a consistency of solidity like the best parts of a Swedish rice pudding, though smooth.

It is hard to countenance how hungry people must have been much of the time in the past. More than the extreme hunger of the soldiers (like Greenman and Plumb Martin), I think common people experienced days of lacking, and accepted them, with the seasons. Food was not constant, but in flux, and even at harvest, I think, or hope, that one was mindful of the needs of others.

For more on seasonality and 18th century ways of thinking or seeing, read Circles and Lines: The Shape of Life in Early America. That’s what I’m going to pretend to do while I fall asleep.

To Ti, or Not to Ti?

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Events, Reenacting1 Comment

We’re at a critical moment: onward to Fort Ti, or not. We haven’t had a chance to ask the captain if anyone else from our regiment is going, so we could be on our own, and need to fold into another unit in the field. Fortunately, Mr. S has done that in the past, fielding with a NY Regiment at the School of Instruction. So that’s not the barrier.

We can probably borrow a tent from the Captain, perhaps even one that will not collapse in a high wind, or be ripped to shreds. (It’s a bit of a Swamp Yankee unit, stuff is kept and mended for years, which makes it all the more authentic for this recreation of the “Ragged Lousey Naked Regiment.”)

I can get the day off, and I bet Mr S can get off work early enough that we can get to Fort Ti before dark. I don’t want to set up camp in the dark…and I bet I can figure out food and eating and cooking and even coffee.

No, what’s stopping me is “Information for Reenactors,” or the authenticity standards. There aren’t any for the women attending the event, since we won’t be “in the line,” so it isn’t about me. It’s about the men. I think of the things I’ve made and the time I have and am convinced “We’re not good enough.”

Thanks, Fort Ti!

I get the standards, and I appreciate them. I’m a thread counter myself. But the standards are high and I don’t think we’ll meet them—I know Young Mr.’s footwear won’t. He only has modern shoes, he’s a size 12, and possibly growing. Could I even get him shoes in hand by July 19? Maybe… after that we get into the clothing, which for the boys would need to be re-fitted, and perhaps even made.

So I think, on the whole, we will have to pass on Fort Ti until another year, one when we can meet the standards. Sad for us, but at least the Fort’s staff and the other attendees will not be perturbed by the child’s rubber soles.

Or do I order shoes for the child, and start sewing like a madwoman on the off-chance that Mr. S really can get off at noon, or that I can pick him up by 2:00 at a commuter line station on the way north?

Decisions…and internal conflict. Feeling “not good enough” for standards sucks, especially when you take standards seriously. At some point, OSV is going to enforce the standards they have copied from Fort Ti and Battle Road. These are good things.  But the bar is high, and I think that the kid-shoe factor is a major irritant for some folks, and to a degree to me, though I can afford the shoes and can even, by force of will, cause them to be worn, as long as they arrive in time. (Fugawee, not Robert Land, would have to be the supplier.)

And that seems like madness, really. Better to focus on the mission, if you will, the core:  Improving regimental kit, and expanding civilian wear over time, for Battle Road and elsewhere. It makes participating in the hobby more like running a museum, and while I love my job, I was honestly looking to have a little more fun than I do at work.