Or how blogging is like Intrepretation and how it’s not
So I looked trencher up in the Oxford English Dictioneary (OED) again, and discovered I somehow have managed to overlook and/or forget part of the definition for decades. Seems one of the definations of trencher is ‘a cutting or slicing instrument’ . Actually it’s the first defination…. How have I missed this? There are several recipes that use trenchers to cut, often spinach. So it seems in my copious free time I should be noting the trencher/spinach and/or leafy greens ratio. And since the OED only has references from 1330-1553, for the chopping trenchers and the ones I’ve seen are later then 1553, I might have something to send them for their on-line updates.
Now, about other trenchers. It seems where ever I read (and I can see the words in front of my eyes, so I’m pretty sure I read it SOMEWHERE) that trenchers and treen ware are related is NOT from the OED.
Fie! Fie and for shame! Creeping factiods taking the place of information. Fie and for double shame!
The word trencher comes from the Old French ‘to cut’, more closely related to digging trenches then bits o trees. The second defination of trencher is a flat piece of wood, square or circular, on which meat was served and cut up; a plate or platter of wood, metal, or earthenware. Trenchers show up in colonial probate inventories, in Eurpean inventories, in all sorts of records where people are eating, and show up in all sorts of paintings.
There’s also a third kind of trencher that has become it’s own sort of creeping factiod, which is a shame because it’s cool in it’s own right. This third trencher is a slice of bread that’s used for a plate. The references date between 1380-1513. The 1513 citation is a translation of Virgil, so I’m not sure how current they were even in the 16th century. But eating the plates is one of those curiosities that some people can’t let go of, and want to put all over in the past. Trenchers made of bread weren’t the plates that most people ate off of most of the time; they were a product of a very specific times and places.
In royal and noble households, there were the officers of the table. These were the servents who had very specific duties.We still know butlers, but how many of us have one? If you had a butler, chances are you also had a panter or a pantler. These were not the servants in charge of the pants – they were in charge of the bread or the pane (remember 1066? Normans everywhere?) Norman French was the language of royal and noble households, pane was the word for bread, hence the man in charge of the bread was the panter. And the bread was kept in the pantry. (Butlers were originally in charge of the buttery, which was were the butts (as in casks) were kept, not the butter or whatever.
Anyhow, the pantler was in charge of cutting the cheate bread into trenchers for his lord’s table. These bread dishes would be gathered up at the end of the meal to put out to feed the poor. Generally, the people who ate off the trenchers didn’t eat the trenchers – other people did. People who didn’t have anything to put on a trencher, just the bread with whatever sauce or other bits was clinging to it were the ones eating the ‘plates’, which were really dishes….
So how is blogging like interpretation? A casual, conversational tone. A dialogue. A sense that none of this is the last word, the only word, the complete and the absolute. That anyone passing by can put two cents worth in. That it’s OK to ask a question.
How is blogging not like intrepretation? It’s in writing. And in writing I want to quote the books, not paraphrase them. It’s really hard for me to write without footnotes and you might have noticed I often slip in source citations anyhow. It’s not really a dialogue because I can’t see if you’re nodding in agreement or looking bewildered and I get to do a big bunch of talking before you get to slip a word in edgewise. And since I can’t count on the tone of my voice or the smile on my lips to let you know when to take me with less then a grain of salt….but I get re-dos.
It’s not just the food, it’s the ways.
KMWall
Colonial Foodways Culinarian
We are pleased to offer a special discount for blog readers only. From September 20-September 27 children will be able to come to Plimoth Plantation AND Mayflower 2, FREE with a paid adult. Even if you can’t make it that week, please tell all your friends about this offer on our blog. We’re trying to spread the word about our great museum and you can help!
A few of our guests have been commenting lately about why our gardens look so messy. Other than the fact that gardens tend to explode in August in New England, and that an aesthetically pleasing garden doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with a well-producing garden, there’s a few other reasons the gardens feel a little different to our guests than what they might be expecting.
Grass is one of the worst enemies to a gardener without the aid of a lawn mower, edging tool, or modern fencing. Our garden beds are often very well weeded; it’s just that the grassy areas in the borders at the edge of the garden make the whole thing feel overgrown, despite the fact it doesn’t affect the garden’s production. And we have a choice: should we use a weed-whacker resulting in a modern aesthetic that really has nothing to do with our museum’s purpose? Or should we preserve and exhibit colonial lifeways by doing as much as we can the 17th century way, with 17th century tools and methods? I personally vote for the latter, though some of my co-workers disagree with me. If all we’re teaching our guests is that our site is messy, we’re not really teaching them anything of value. And yet, if we’re teaching them that a 17th century colonial garden has neatly mowed grass, we’re not teaching them the right things either.
The grass is another problem: it’s not native to New England. It wasn’t here when the Colonists arrived. We can dig out as much as we can, remove sod, but it always grows back. That’s the problem with non-native plants: once they’re around, there around for good.
Our gardens also look overgrown because we save seeds. When a plant goes to seed, it goes wild. Many vegetable gardeners eat all their lettuce before it bolts, and harvest all their radishes before they grow ten times as big they were before, fall over, and make funny-looking green pods. Perhaps an onion gone to flower look like we’ve wasted a good onion–but the colonists had no other way to get seeds. It’s not like they could go to the nearest Home Depot or Agway and buy seeds for next year’s garden. We can’t exactly go to Home Depot either, because we grow many heirloom and rare varieties of seed that are hard to find. But that’s not the only reason we save seeds–we hope we are contributing to these rare plants’ preservation by saving their seeds and planting more of them.
Pathetic. Pathetic and in disarray. Unkempt, rundown, keep up with the garden harvest and needs weeding.
The visitor comments are in for August and pathetic was the word used to describe the English Village gardens. More than once.
As discouraging as it is to hear, they weren’t mean or wrong.
Sigh.
Part of the trouble is some of our plants are weeds. Well, they weren’t then, but they are now. Tansy and chicory, for instance, were brought over for English gardens. Yellow flowered tansy is a medical herb, the seed good against the worm in the gut of children. Aren’t you glad you haven’t needed to know that before? One later New England writer said that the smell reminded him of funerals, because it was used to repel flies off the dead bodies. Aren’t you doubly glad you don’t need to know this anymore? Chicory, called succory by the English, was a potherb – still is – boiled for salads. This is in bloom in our corn ground and for the last 2 weeks I have often seen the little yellow goldfinches flitting around the blue flowered chicory, a study in yellow and blues and greens. And Queen Anne’s Lace? Wild carrot. And since 1627 predates Queen Anne by a bit, it wasn’t called that then, it was called Bird’s nest, which is totally apparent once you wait past the lacy stage and see the flower curl up on itself in the seed-forming stage.
And then there’s the nature of kitchen gardens themselves. One 17th century garden advisor suggests that you make sure that none of your windows overlook your kitchen garden because it’s always ‘decrepit’ – something going to seed, something pulled up, something not quite up yet, leaving bare spots and dried out bits.
Yet even by these forgiving and liberal standards, our gardens are… needy. They are in need of some serious muscle. On Spring Clean Day we had more volunteer help then we knew what to do with. Not that we didn’t find ways to keep them -you- extremely busy. But that was back in March and a garden needs constant care.
We’ve asked for more help, but our volunteer coordinator said she was turned down, that people had their own gardens to tend to. Fair enough. It was a long, hot summer full of snails and bunnies and woodchucks and rainy days and high humidity.
So I’m making a direct appeal to those of you who read the blog and are local and maybe aren’t part of the regular volunteer corps.
HELP! Our tender herbs are lurking and we need your help to rid the place of evil weeds. If you’ve got some time, some muscle and some patience I invite you to join THE PLIMOTH GARDENS CLUB.
Unlike the Spring Clean day, when the volunteer workforce has the run of the place, this meeting will be limited to one garden at a time. The only tools we’ll have are hand tools – no wheel barrows, no trucks, nothing to distract from the 1627 exhibit. We will be in the shadows, as it were, in front of the public and performing a ‘behind the scene’ function at the same time, a sleight of hand to hand pick the evil weeds out by their roots so we can prepare for our fall plantings. I haven’t done this before, so I don’t know what it would be like. If this works out we could continue to meet, perhaps for some training and not just for muscle.
What I’m looking for is stoop labor – bend over and pull out the weeds, and not pull out our heirloom variety plants, seedy though they may be. In return I’ll tell you about 17th century plants and practices. If you have any questions, please e-mail me at kwall@plimoth.org Even if you don’t have any questions you can reach me there.
Meeting times: Sunday, September 13th at 9:30 through 1:30 and Monday September 14th also 9:30-1:30.
Location: 1627 English Village –check in with the Museum Guide at the Fort, who will know which gardens we will be weeding.
Purpose: To remove weeds from the walkways and beds of the 12 English kitchen gardens, one garden at a time.
Bring gloves, sunscreen.
It’s not just the food, it’s the ways.
K.M.Wall
Colonial Foodways Culinarian
No, not THAT ‘First Thanksgiving’ – my first Thanksgiving consult for the 2009 season. I usually figure the Thanksgiving season as starting around here at the beginning of September, and sure as shooting, I was in a meeting and on the phone talking about the autumn of 1621. And the first questions were about food, especially recipes, especially authentic recipes for authentic food.
There is a certain extent where authenticity is in the mouth of the beholder, but I do a pretty good collection of 17th century English recipes– and some Dutch ones to cover those all important Holland years- and pretty good handle of what various evidences tell us about available foodstuffs, so if there’s something old that you’d like to see, make your requests via comments and I’ll post some recipes soon. Actually, my usual fashion is to post a 17th century recipe and then walk and talk you through it.
And while I’m at it, let me put in a shameless plug for Thanks and Giving by Kathleen Curtin and Sandra Oliver, who cover the history of the holiday, as well as provide great recipes, images and stories. Not only are they culinary colleagues, they let me test recipes for the book. Well, one. One recipe. For stuffed celery. Ok, I know you’re thinking stuffed celery isn’t really a recipe, but it’s right there in the first recipe section and I tested it. So buy the book! End of commercial break. Back to our program.
Foodways isn’t just about the food; it’s also about the ways. Thanksgiving isn’t just about the food (GASP) it’s also about the ways. Preparations. Procurements. Perceptions. Presentations. It’s about the table – where it is, how it’s set, who’s sitting at it, where they’re sitting. It’s about the kitchen – who’s in charge, who’s washing the dishes, who brings what, who chooses the menu. It’s about the meaning behind the food – what do you think and feel and remember about all this, is this something you only see and taste in this circumstance, is this familiar or usual, costly or rare or common or singular?
So just who was on First, Thanksgiving that is. There are lots of claims. They’re all right. Thanksgiving is not a race to be won going backwards in time. Each thanksgiving is the first. As a living tradition, first isn’t as important as the last – or the next. Whether you’re in a farmhouse in Missouri or an apartment in Manhattan, your Thanksgiving is authentic and the first one – the first one with someone new or with someone missing, a new cook, a new venue or a new dish or something new to be thankful for. For thanksgiving you don’t have to wait until November; you don’t even need a turkey.
K.M. Wall
Colonial Foodways Culinarian
…yesterday and it was a great time! Mr. Bradford, Mr. Winslow, Mr, Hopkins and Capt. Standish discussed the recent visit by the Dutchman Jan Jacobson and his ship the Drie Konigen. Herr Jacobson brought letters from Herr Isaac DeRassier from the (in Capt Standish’s mind) illegally planted colony of Fort Amstelredam.
Other matters were considered and then a sudden turn of events occurred. A delicate matter was brought before the court regarding one Mr. John Fells who (it was heard whispered) was keeping his maid servant in an unseemly manner. Mr. Fells, a guest in New Plimoth, stood upon his own justification, and the matter was shelved…for the time being.
Huge Kudos to everyone who participated in this dynamic event. You are too many to mention but you all know you are.
If you, dear reader, do NOT know who they are, you need to come visit with us sometime.
Thanks also to our new friends John and Jenny from Henricus Historical Park. for coming for a visit. Take a look at their website when you get a chance.
Thank you to Highland Street Foundation, a Framingham based charity who underwrote admission for almost 8000 people last Friday. It was an amazing event where people who may never have been able to afford to come to Plimoth Plantation came for free. It shattered all records for our museum and I think it is safe to say that a good time was had by all.
Thanks in particular to the front line staff in the Visitor’s Center and Craft Center and especially to my colleagues in the 1627 Pilgrim Village, the Wampanoag Homesite, and Mayflower 2.
And yes, that’s me on the front page of the Old Colony Memorial, our home town paper. I look like Teddy Roosevelt. The picture’s here if you just must see it:
http://www.wickedlocal.com/plymouth/news/x1678043129/Thanksgiving-in-August
To everyone who attended this momentous day…please come back.
If any of you have photos that you have saved from your visits to Plimoth Plantation and would like to share them with others, please feel free to join us at our Flickr group and upload them to Plimoth Plantation Flickr Group.
In the near future we will expanding our online presence by using FaceBook, Youtube, and Twitter more.
hours: Plimoth Plantation's Administrative offices, Education Department and Creative Gourmet are open 9 AM to 5 PM, M-F address: 137 Warren Avenue, Plymouth, MA 02360 USA telephone: 1 + 508 746 1622
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