
Have you ever ate stewed squirrel and dumplings?
Long ago dad would go squirrel hunting and bring home 4 or 5 squirrels. Mother would put them in a pot and boil them for several hours, nothing is as tuff as an adult squirrel. When the meat was falling off the bone she would add dumplings and this was a dish fit for a king.
Did you know a red squirrel's bones have a red caste and the grey squirrel's bones are white?
If daddy was lucky and got young squirrels we had Fried squirrel.We didn't get much meat in those years and fried meat was heavenly.
In the spring Clayton would set a old hen if one went broody and when these young chickens were big enough for a mouth full we killed a couple and mother fried them.
Young cotton tail rabbits were on our table when dad could find them. They usually were fried because the rabbits even as adults were fairly tender.
Sometimes dad would butcher hogs and salt the meat, I still like salt meat wrapped in a biscuit.
On the average we had oat meal for breakfast, beans and mashed potatoes for dinner and corn bread and milk for our supper. We alway had food just not very rich foods. this probably was a good thing because since we have grown up most of us really like to eat and we pretty well can have what we want so we do eat high on the hog.
10 comments:
Larry thinks the gray squirrels taste better than the red ones. They are smaller and not as touch. I cook all the grays he shoots as he loves them. They had squirrel a lot when he was young. Granny was the squirrel hunter.
I remember when I was about 5 years old Daddy would take me rabbit hunting with him. We would go up on the hill...he had the 22 to shoot them and he would sharpen me a stick to carry...I was supposed to spear a rabbit if we saw one.
i never heard the sharpen stick story but that would be daddy. i am sure he made you believe you could do that very thing.
Isn't it something how the memories of the foods we ate when we were young are still so vivid and make us long for our old home table? Sometimes we actually try to recreate the dishes we remember our mothers and grandmothers fixing all those years ago. I've never been successful at recreating the exact tastes and I suspect that's because the exact taste has been idealized over the years.
Patsy, Larry wants me to cook the head and him crack it and eat the brains...how nasty. But sometimes I do as he loves the brains.
Yuk I just could not knowingly eat a squirrel
But interesting to read about
Patsy, I have to go to school and you have not posted...hope you are ok. I love you, Sister.
Did jack frost come nipping at your door??
Hi Patsy, It's Tuesday. Where are you?
Here's a poem I thought you might appreciate. Makes one think - and then the image is chickens. You're both a thinker and you like chickens.
Annie
Home to Roost by Kay Ryan
The chickens
are circling and
blotting out the
day. The sun is
bright, but the
chickens are in
the way. Yes,
the sky is dark
with chickens,
dense with them.
They turn and
then then turn
again. These
are the chickens
you let loose
one at a time
and small—
various breeds.
Now they have
come home
to roost—all
the same kind
at the same speed.
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