By: Gwen Miner, Supervisor of Domestic Arts
Heirloom Seeds have been occupying some part of all my work days for the last twelve weeks, from ordering them to packaging them to now actually planting them in the hot frames.
Heirloom Seeds have been occupying some part of all my work days for the last twelve weeks, from ordering them to packaging them to now actually planting them in the hot frames.
For those of you who read my previous post in February, you will wonder if I found a seed variety that I was looking for. The answer is yes: thanks to the internet and our seed supplier, I was able to purchase the elusive Boston Marrow Squash seed. It was pricey, but it will be worth it when we harvest and finally get to cook some. Boston Marrow is a winter squash that matures in 90-100 days, weighing between 10 to 20 pounds and if kept cool and dry it will last until the following spring. The squash has been prized historically for its rich deep orange flesh with a fine texture. The Boston Marrow Squash has two hundred years of documented history. The following are two of the common stories regarding the origin of the squash. The first one is that the seed was probably brought from South America by an American sea captain in the early 19th century. The other is that it originated in upstate New York and was seed that the Native Americans gave to the European Settlers. Either way, it was introduced in 1831 to the public from Salem, Massachusetts as the Boston or “Autumnal” Marrow Squash.
For the past 6 weeks we have been packing seeds to sell in Todd’s General Store here at the museum and for the 4-H Heirloom Seed Project that we have sponsored for the past twenty plus years. We buy the seed in bulk and then pack them in envelopes that are printed in the Middlefield Printing Office using a design that is found on early hand-folded Shaker seed packets.
The following is Susan Fenimore Cooper’s observation of a New Year’s Day in Cooperstown in the late 1840’s from her book Rural Hours: 
The American New Year’s cake originated in the New York. New Year’s cake was white and often contained caraway cakes and was made plain or cut in rounds or squares like the recipe in Amelia Simmon’s American Cookery of 1796. It could also be ornamented with cake “prints”. The smallest molds were used in the home for koekje (“little cakes”), from which or present-day term cookie is derived. The custom of making these cakes came to New York in the 17th century with the Dutch and was gradually passed on to their English neighbors.
Most homes in the 19th century had cellars under the house for preserving vegetables. Climate-wise cellars were cool and moist, the ideal environment for cabbage, apples and most root crops. For those who did not have large enough cellars (or no cellar at all), certain vegetables were overwintered in the garden in straw lined trenches or hills that were covered over with more straw and soil. 
When the vegetables are dry enough they are carried to the cellar for winter storage. In the Lippitt Farmhouse cellar we use large footed wooden bins with wire tops to store our root crops, barrels for apples and we hang the cabbages by their roots. 
The productive root cellar is one that is well tended. It’s important to cook the soft vegetables, throw away the rotten ones and keep rodents away. 
About a week ago we harvested 
Root crops were the primary vegetable foodstuffs grown for much of the 19th century due to the available technology for the long term preservation of foodstuffs. A permanent method of freezing was not available and home canning did not become a common method of food preservation until the latter part of the 19th century. What couldn’t be put down in the cellar was “put up,” hung up to dry. All you would have needed was the correct environment and the “know how” for the successful storage of most of the vegetables grown in the 19th century. 
Harvesting this year was easy. I hate to say it, but it only took a few hours to bring all the vegetables in. It was not a good growing year. The vegetable yield this year was only a fraction of what we normally grow in a good year. The vegetables overall were in good condition but in size they were small to the occasional large. 
I remember first reading the book alone in my apartment. It was the first adult ghost story book I had read. Not a good idea to read ghostly tales at night when you live alone in a creaky old house. So believable were the tales in the book to me at that time, I thought ghosts might lurk around every corner. Maybe the tales were more believable, because they took place here in New York State and near to where I grew up.
Even as a staff member who knows the grounds well, I was affected by the museum’s atmosphere at night (and I’ll admit that I was jumpy even though I knew that tricks and surprises were not part of the tour). If you want to take the tour, check out 
Congratulations to this year’s group of Young Interpreters! On Thursday, September 17, we held the annual Young Interpreter potluck dinner in Bump Tavern. This dinner concludes the summer-long program for the Young Interpreters. Nine of the eleven participants were present. The Young Interpreters and their immediate families join their mentors for a meal, conversation, a show and tell of the Interpreters’ summer work, and the presentation of certificates.
We hope to continue to see these fantastic young folks as volunteers and even future staff members.
The five beds in Lippit Garden Our Kitchen Garden at the Lippitt Farmhouse is laid out as a garden would have been for much of the nineteenth century: geometrically in beds. The garden consists of five beds. Three of the five as of this writing are slowly growing. Two, because they were either under water or wet most of the summer were a lost cause by July. At this point we are harvesting potatoes, turnips and early cabbage for use, but is looking like we won’t have much to “put down“ in the cellar for winter use. For the most part though, the development of the vegetables is where they would be the end of July or early August even though it’s already mid-September.
A bed with growing plants. 
A bed that is too wet. 
Small turnips Lessons from this cold, wet summer: 
Do you have an old smokehouse on your property? We want to know about it. Leave us a comment so we can add it to our list.
Second, we put the frame together on top of the horse manure facing southeast. Third, we began to fill the frame with manure, firmly stomping the manure every 6” until it was about 8” from the top of the frame.
Fourth, we covered with 6” of soil composted from last years’ frames, and then put the window sash on.
Finally, we let the frame set for several days as the manure heated up to 125 degrees. If you plant your seeds right after creating your frame, the temperature will be too hot and you will scald your plants. When the temperature dropped to 85 degrees, I planted the frame and watered it. Sprouts began to appear before the first week was up, and after a few weeks, our hot frame is full of healthy plants on their way to maturity.
The fuels we use to smoke are corn cobs, or “cobs” as they were called in the 19th c. and apple wood. The cobs and apple wood give a sweet smoke. Resinous woods such as pine should never be used as they give an acrid taste to the meat. 
The fire will burn low and smoky for several weeks. Each morning the smokehouse will be fired and allowed to smoke during the day. Temperatures in the smokehouse range from 100 degrees to 120 degrees—just warm enough to cure and dry the meat out. 
Check back to see how the smoking goes.
