We Are What We Eat (?)

Obviously he will be nutty if he eats nuts. I can tell this by the way his mouth looks, anyway. But if I eat him (a squirrel) will I be squirrely? Or will it merely define me as being a huntin’-fishin’ (and possibly poverty-stricken or lower-class) type person?

The sender of the squirrel card writes, on October 19, 1949:

Potatoes all dug. Snow last night – ground white. Louie did some ploughing yesterday & we all got in apples this week – not many apples here – Hope business is good with you. Ella

Keeping with our squirrel and bird theme, here is a California quail. Will I quail if I eat it? Or will I be tiny and difficult to de-feather? Or will I just be considered elegant perhaps, and from the upper-class?

Seagulls are not considered good as food nor good around the farm. Horses apparently are more well thought of, but do we eat them? Not here, usually. There is a long history of eating horses in other places, though – and they are considered quite delicious. Would I be horsey if I ate a horse? I wonder.

I could be soft-boiled, scrambled, hard-boiled or freshly-laid if I ate an egg.

None of this matters to the sender of the egg card. He says, to his friend at John Hopkins Hospital:

We can beat you playing Set Back. Good Bye.

No signature. I’m not surprised.

Mice are not all that far away in thought, from squirrels or birds. But usually we don’t eat them. In Ancient Rome though, dormice with honey was considered quite a delightful dish. Were the Ancient Romans like mice?

The mouse on the card is trying to eat cheese. Obviously he wants to be cheesy. His wife is not allowing him, for she sees that there is danger in being cheesy.

And so it goes. Are we what we eat?


Destinee and the Fantastic Egg

Scrambled Eggs from MFK Fisher

8 good fresh eggs

1/2 pint or more good rich cream

Salt and Pepper

Break eggs gently into skillet. Pour in cream and stir quietly til blended – but no more.

Never beat or whip.

Heat very slowly, stirring from the middle bottom in large curds – as seldom as possible.

Never let bubble.

Add seasoning at last stir or two.

This takes perhaps half an hour. It can not be hurried.

Giant Eggs and Tiny Men

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egg back

This is the way our hens lay without nest eggs. How are you getting along. why don’t you write. We sowed ten acres of oats Tues. E.H.B.

Elba, New York must have been quite a place in 1913 to have such giant eggs and such tiny men. It looks as if the men might have been hatched from the eggs themselves. I wonder what that chicken looks like!

This postcard was sent from the town of Elba to nearby Genesis. Could Clarence have been E.H.B.’s son, left home to go into the nearby area to work at a store or maybe another farm?

At first I could not make out whether the note said ‘sowld’ or ‘sowed’. But the date helped. In April the oats would be sowed . . . by someone walking through the fields by hand, with or without the help of a horse-drawn plow.

Elba remains to this day a farming community – it is home to Torrey Farms

Torrey Farms is the name of a large, 11-generation family farm located in Elba, New York, with another farm located in Potter, New York. It is one of the largest vegetable-crop farms in New York. The land itself, which is over 10,000 acres, is primarily muckland, which is drained swampland.

which has had its share of news-worthiness

The farm makes use of migrant workers. In October, 1997, 25 migrant workers from Torrey Farms were arrested and set to be deported by Immigration. This was one of the largest immigration raids in New York history and, along with other raids of the time, it casued a significant labor shortage on Torrey Farms as well as on agriculture in the area in general. Mareen Torrey, owner of Torrey Farms said, “I’m probably going to end up leaving $2 million worth of crop in the field and it’s adding up every day”

Elba had a few other interesting inhabitants in past times. John Brown was one of them

Brown’s body still lies a-moulderin’ in the grave in upstate New York, where he confounded even other abolitionists by treating freed slaves as social equals.

and another was Mrs. Anna Newman

Special Correspondence THE NEW YORK TIMES.
April 19, 1903, Sunday
UTICA, N.Y., April 17. — A former Philadelphia woman, Miss Anna Newman, a cousin of the Rev. Dr. Henry Van Dyke, owns a farm which has the greatest elevation of any cultivated land in the State of New York. It is located in the town of North Elba in the Adirondack Mountains, four miles south of the village of Newman and Lake Placid, where several thousand tourists gather in the Summer.

This story is fascinating!

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But back to those giant eggs. They say you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs. Do you think if I broke those giant eggs open for an omelet a tiny little man would pop out of each one?

And what sort of taste would that omelet have if they did . . .