August 25, 2009
Both grape juice and grape jelly were two of the items we “put up” on our farm when I was growing up in the mountains. My Grandpa “Bud” Collins had a grape arbor. He had the Concord Grape vines staked to a “fare-you’well,” so that when one walked under the arbor and it was time for grape harvest, the luscious clusters of ripe grapes hung like purple gold from the vines with broad leaves that ran along the whole length and breadth of the scaffold.
As a child, I was allowed my own small bucket and a step stool on which to stand (having been warned in advance, “Be careful; don’t wiggle or you’ll fall off the stool!”). From the vantage point of the stool, I could just barely reach the clusters of grapes. My Aunts Ethel and Avery gave me instructions on how to reach to the end of the cluster and gently pull off the whole bunch of grapes. I would soon have a bucket full and be so happy about my grape-picking accomplishment!
And then came something I really enjoyed: Washing the cluster of grapes in clear pans of water. We didn’t have running water at that time on the farm, so we drew water from the deep well and had two pans in which we washed the grapes-two washings to insure they were really clean.
The next step was pulling the grapes from the cluster and making sure no stems were put into the pot where we would boil the grapes to make juice for canning or for making jelly. I wasn’t allowed to cook the grapes at an early age, but then my mother died when I was fourteen, I found myself of necessity in the role of “head cook and bottle washer” on our own family farm, about a mile away from my Aunts Ethel and Avery-who were always good about giving me advice on any cooking, canning or jelly-making challenges.
We made the grape juice as described in “Blind Pig and the Acorn.” I can remember our putting the juice we were planning to use during the winter in green fruit jars, washed clean and sterilized, and sitting in a pan of hot water, with a towel in the bottom of the pan to keep the cans from rattling so against each other and breaking. When the hot juice was poured into the cans, the next step was attaching the sealer. When I was a child, we had a rubber ring and a mason jar top for the sealer lids. It was not until later that we got the current-type two-piece “lid and jar” for sealing cans. I can remember how beautiful-and enticing-the jars of grape juice looked sitting on the freshly-cleaned-out cellar shelves underneath the house. All summer long, as one thing and another “came in” (ripened) and was harvested from the garden or the field, we filled cans and more cans to provide us food for winter use. The grape juice was sort of like the proverbial “icing on the cake” -to have something refreshing to drink during the winter months ahead.
We made a “run” or two of jelly-a “run” being the amount we could make with a five-pound bag of sugar, and the juice measured cup for cup with equal cups of the strained grape juice that we did not can. We made the grape jelly before “Sure-Jell” was available to us in the country. It took a lot more boiling time to cook the sugar and juice, and it had to be tested by dropping a drip of it into a cup of cold water to test to see if it had “jelled.” I thought it was an amazing invention when Sure-Jell became available, during my teen years when I was in charge of the “Dyer Family” kitchen at our farm. I could make jelly in “jig” time compared to the long boil and frequent testing prior to Sure-Jell days. As an added thought, if we ran out of jelly, we could use the canned juice to make jelly, too.
Then the Fox Grape harvest came. It was a lot harder to gather these wild grapes, for someone adept at climbing trees along the banks of Town Creek where Fox Grapes grew had the privilege of being the gatherer. Usually it was my brother, always adept at “skinning” (climbing up) a tree. He would go with a bucket laced onto his person with a belt. He would soon get a whole bucketful of the tart grapes and descend to get another bucket to fill. Then we’d go home and begin the process-the same as with grapes from Grandpa Collin’s grape arbor-to process the juice and jelly from these wild, tart, not-so-purplish Fox Grapes.
It was a lot of work to gather and process these foodstuffs for winter use. But somehow, we had a way of making it all seem like fun. And the rewards were two-fold; First, the pride in seeing the finished canned products sitting neatly along cellar shelves. All of it, whether grape juice and jelly or other products from garden, field and woods, gave a sense of accomplishment, evidence of a job well done. When ladies of our community “visited around” from farmhouse to farmhouse, they all liked to show their visitors their canned winter store. And the second blessing came when we actually ate the products, sitting in a warm kitchen on a snowy winter day, with the bounty of our harvest and of our frugal work spread out in splendor on the Lazy-Susan table in that kitchen on the farm. Was it any wonder that “to say grace” was so customary then? We were thankful for our work, for the provision of our food needs, and for God’s bounty in giving us productive land on which crops grew and the hard-work ethic and determination to, like the industrious ant, lay up for the the days when these products would keep us healthy.
(I grew up in the Choestoe District, Union County, GA near Blairsville. We had farmland along the Nottely River and the creeks of Choestoe.)
August 25, 2009 written by Ethelene Dyer Jones
I hope you enjoyed the memories Ethelene shared back in 2009. All these years later I still enjoy hearing about the farm and family that raised Etelene up over in Choestoe GA.
Drop back by tomorrow and I’ll share one more post about fox grapes.
Tipper
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I remember eating fox grapes. You put the grape in your mouth and with your tongue press it against the roof of your mouth until it splits open. Then you swaller the center part whole leaving just the skin in your mouth. You’d waller the skin in your mouth until there was no flavor then spit it out. You don’t chew at any point because that releases tannins that impart a bitter taste.
You pick the ripest of the ripe from amongst your hoard. They need to be easily split or already started. Green grape are as bad as ripe grapes are good.
We have grape vines hanging all over in our woods and grapes way up high in the tall oak trees…so high you could never get to them. I have never tried pulling down the vines to get some grapes and I have no idea what kind they are. The birds feast on them I think. We have an arbor with grapes in one corner of our garden. It is loaded with grapes this year but Japanese beetles are eating the leaves. We’ll see if we actually get to harvest any when they ripen. I finally got some ripe cherry tomatoes (Tommy toes, as you say) feom one plant I have on my porch. We are loaded with tomatoes in our garden. Just waiting on a ripe one to slice and eat. This story by Ethelene is so interesting. I love reading your blog.
Well, I’ll be. She is so very right about table grace said over what a family has done together. The entire cycle has dependency on Divine order; seeds, sun, water and dirt. And dependent also on there being no catastrophic loss to drought, flood, insects, disease, frost, hail, windstorm and whatever threat. Then besides there is the need for many helping hands to work the often long and hot hours to “put up” everything. And at the last to get to enjoy it together in the gray days of winter – what a compounded blessing! As a friend of mine says, “That’ll preach!” But then, to look at the canning jars and understand what they represent, there is already a silent sermon.
A very enjoyable read, evoking a hug of memories.
This year will be my first for making juice and jelly on my own, I’m looking forward to it. My contribution with using the grape harvest was making Concord grape pie with crumb topping, they are delicious.
Loved the story of the grape harvests. My mom canned peaches during the summer in California. They were so good in the winter or in a wonderful peach pie.
I was young and don’t rember how they did it, but remember mother and grandmother making grape jelly from Concord grapes grown on my granddaddy’s vine. I don’t remember them making any juice to drink. I think granddaddy on my Daddy’s side would make him a small amount of grape wine from the grapes he had grown. I never saw any evidence of him drinking it. He would pour it over one of my grandmother’s old time fruit cakes, mother would not eat it or let us children eat any. I remember Sure Jell and also remember Gulf Wax that would be melted and poured over the top of the jelly before putting on the lids and sealing the jars. Yesterday I said I don’t know anything about fox grapes but I am very familiar with wild muscadines and scuppernongs. I know where there’s plenty of wild muscadine vines but nowadays I never see many muscadines on them. I don’t know of any scuppernongs growing wild, but know of two neighbors growing them in their yard. Both of them would give some to their neighbors.
Now I look back and think how good it must have made these ladies feel to look back in the late fall of the year and see all of the vegetables, jellies and jams they had preserved for their family to have for food during the upcoming winter. Very little would be bought at a store. Most of the country families would also have a large hog or two of at least 500lbs to kill along in November. These sure were good times for families but also very hard times too.
Enjoyed reading Ethelene’s post. I found it interesting how she described when the women would visit one another and show their canned goods. Can you blame them? Canning is hard work and they should be proud of the fruits of their labors.
Although Ethelene and I had several e-mail exchanges and she gifted me with a copy of the book of poetry she and her son, Rev. (Elton) Keith Jones, had written, “Mother and Child Reunion,” I truly regret never getting in the truck and driving down to meet her in person, especially after Keith had died.
One of the subjects we discussed was her Collins ancestors, who she mentions here. Both of us had tried to find a connection to Robert Collins of Lufty, but both of us failed. There were multiple reasons to suspect the relation. Someone on findagrave claims Robert was an uncle of Ethelene’s grandfather, Bud, but there’s no evidence to back that up.
I enjoyed her use of “skinning up” to get the fox grapes, and sure wish I was able to skin a tree like I could when I was a boy (and there was considerably less of me!)
I don’t remember Mama ever doing it (although she canned jelly from domestic grapes Daddy grew), but Aunt Emma thoroughly enjoyed canning fox grape jelly. Aunt Emma was exceptionally knowledgeable of and loved native plant life. I’m almost positive that it was she who, as a teacher at Swain High in the 1940s, began the practice of having biology students go into the field to collect wildflowers and leaves, then put them in a notebook with the common and scientific names, date and location found noted. I still have my book.
The exchanges I had with Ethelene brought Aunt Emma to mind. Both taught school, wrote poetry, and thoroughly enjoyed and took great pride dealing with nature’s bounty.
We do both…fox and Blue Lake, a blue berry….yummy stuff. Prayers for Granny and you guys.
We also made fox grape jelly and fox grape hull pies. The jelly was so good, but I was never a big fan of grape hull pies. The texture was not my favorite. I love making jams and jellies and canning and freezing for my family. I grew up doing all this with my Grandma and the memories are precious to me. Love and prayers to Granny and the Little Mamas and all of you too.
I loved reading the entire excerpt from this fine lady! Oh how I would’ve loved to have been there helping pick, clean, cook and prepare the lovely grape bounty. I especially loved the last paragraph of this reading where she says is it any wonder we said grace. I think we can and should learn a lot here like hard work, pride and character. I’d love to pour a big cold glass of that grape juice this morning as I start a new day… good stuff here and I’m reading and enjoying! Thanks Tipper.
Loved reading this about making jelly. Oh how I remember my grandmother using elderberries we picked for her to make jelly. We had several apple trees so there was also with apple jelly. My grandfather would sit and peel the apples for her and I would walk by and sneak a piece. Good memories, but also thinking how hard it was with no running water in the early years.
I enjoyed reading about this part of her life. She described it so beautifully and sad that her mother died when she was 14 yo. She had been learning to cook from an early age. I had zero kitchen skills when I married at 23 and still have never canned anything 30 plus years later.
It’s important for children to participate in all food preparation. I love grape jelly, but not the mess or stains. But with jam and jelly prices so high (I’ve been stockpiling sugar since winter) I may just have to make a small batch so my peanut butter is not so lonely . . .
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Ethelene Dyer Iones’ memories of making these sweet jellies in the Dyer family kitchen. Yes, it’s still customary to “say grace” for what God has provided.
I loved reading Ethelene Dyer Jones’ account of her family history and the grapes, from harvest to the table. I’ve made grape jelly with Sure-Jell and with Welch’s grape juice–both so good. The last time was with a friend, canning Welch’s juice, easy, and making orange marmalade, a lengthy process, as we hand-cut the tiny orange peel slivers. Three days total, we had such an enjoyable time and produced beautiful purple and orange jars for both of our families. Good and blessed times indeed.