A Welcome Fall Party -- Darn It

Yes, it galls me, but I have to bow to the calendar. It really is Fall now. I'm waving the white flag of Summer Surrender, and celebrating the good in this Season. Blast.

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(New Jersey) - Pumpkin Garland Runs Amuck - Tries to Strangle Dime Store Scarecrow!

In Monday's post, I asked your opinion about draping a garland of teeny pumpkins and squash over our fireplace mantel as part of the new Fall decorations. (Click here.)

The little punkin chain lost the informal poll.

I agree; they just didn't look quite right dangling in front of the mantelpiece. I tried swagging them up in the middle, but no. . . still not quite right.

So today we'll see if they can fit in anywhere else, as That Old House joins
Rhondi's Welcome Fall party at her Rose Colored Glasses blog.


I'll be using Three Or More things I found in the house to decorate my pie safe;
how's that for fitting into Tam's Three Or More Tuesday party at The Gypsy's Corner?

Click on any of the highlighted words, or the icons, to visit these parties
and these two lovely blogs and see what other folks are featuring today.

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The pie safe in the conservatory began life probably in the mid 19th century, homemade by someone with more need than time; it is not finely done. But I'm sure it saw good use in someone's kitchen, keeping varmints out of the food.

It was my Mom's; I brought it here two weeks ago. (Click here.)

My husband believes it will be filled with pies; he has a rich fantasy life.

To celebrate this brand new season, I began with early apples

from a New Jersey orchard, on a white platter I got at a thrift shop this summer.

Added a plum-and-pewter candleholder, a gift from my friend Betsy.

I love the reds and golds and oranges of autumn,

but I like to also bring in that rich plum of fallen leaves and ripe fruit.

An old vanity jar full of sedum blossoms, plucked from the border.

And a little old pitcher, an Ebay score.

There. I like it.

Let's add a goofy scarecrow

and a bittersweet wreath balanced on the windowsill.

That window is at the foot of our back stairs and gives light from the sunroom onto the landing.

For Halloween, a little stack of Jack'O'Lanterns would be nice.

Oh my.
Look who showed up.
The scarecrow doesn't look pleased.

Sorry, fellas. You don't belong here either. . .

Nor here.

Nor here.

Nor here.

This could get old.

OK. You can stay on the cupboard until your father gets home
and we decide what to do with you.

I wanted to use that pumpkin tureen, way up there on top of the kitchen cupboard.

It's one of my favorite things, but it's too much trouble to wrestle it down and I'm afraid of dropping it on the tile floor. I'll wait till Howard gets home. He won't need to stand on a chair. I hate to stand on chairs.


Our grapes are ready.
We've been harvesting them over the last couple of days. My dad helped on Sunday, but he ate as many as he put in the bucket. I'm going to make Grape Jam, friends. Stay tuned. I don't promise success!


Tomorrow -- I am featuring some wonderful things I won in two giveaways, and am delighted to show off to you. Please come back! -- Cass

Heirlooms, Apples, and Three Generations of Catherines

Heirlooms and Apples on this sunny September Friday.

You know me as Cass, but that is my gang name.

No, not really, but it is a nickname.

My Grandmother, born in 1875, was named Catherine.
My Mother, born in 1921, is named Catherine.
I, born in (mumble mumble mumble cough), am also named Catherine.

It was inevitable that I should get a few things handed down to me from
both of The Catherines. One is the ability to carry a tune pretty darned well.

Others -- a love of books and language, some skills in hand work, and a great deal of child-rearing wisdom that Howard and I embraced. It must have been excellent advice; our daughters are not in jail. Yet. Although I haven't spoken to either of them today. . . .

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Another legacy is a recipe for applesauce that I am sharing for Foodie Friday;
it dates from the days when people used all the parts of a pig except the oink; it is that thrifty.

For the Heirloom Party, I am sharing something more tangible than a singing voice
and lessons on how to think like a child. I'm sharing my Grandmother's tea set.

I apologize; it is terribly tarnished but I haven't done my pre-Thanksgiving silver polishing blitz yet. I don't polish these pieces too often, as they are old plate and I don't want to risk polishing right through to the metal beneath.

When I was a very small child, my Mama kept this set on the low coffee table in the living room.
We could look at it, but not touch.

I looked at it a lot.

I was very young when I asked if I could have it and my mother answered,
"When you get married." I think she even meant it.

About 6 years after my wedding, I finally pried it from her desperate, sweaty grasp.

I am not sure how old it is, but I guess it is from the 1920s or 30s. It's not valuable, except to me. It is 1881 Rogers Quadruple Plate, Pattern 5014. Does anyone have access to a good book on silverplated holloware?

Again, I am sorry for the condition of the pieces today;

you can see from the undersides that they polish up nicely.

Clearly, my Grandmother used this set. It has some small dings and dents.

Does anyone else think the tea pot looks like Aladdin's lamp?

I hope, if a Genie ever pops out, that he does windows, pulls weeds, and empties the dishwasher.
Them's my three wishes.

I love the engraving on the tops of the pieces, and the blank spaces for monograms. I doubt my grandparents could have afforded to have the tea pot monogrammed; they had 7 children to raise!

Okay, this post is getting long and rambling,
so I'm going to segue smoothly right into The Applesauce.

There, wasn't that smooth? So is The Applesauce. Here's what you do:

Take some apples. Any apples. Drops, bruised, or perfect, any variety. Wash them well, making sure to get into that dusty place around the stem, where the apple's belly button lint lurks.

Next, put them in a bowl and briefly admire how nice they look with drops of water artistically clinging to them.

Then get out a cutting board and a cleaver, and hack them up. Any which way.

Quartered.

Halved down the middle to expose that secret star in the center of every apple.

It doesn't matter how you chop them up, but do not peel them, do not remove their cores.
Just cut them up, and plop them into a nice big stockpot.

Add enough water that you can see it down near the bottom of the pot, between the apples.

Don't cover them up with water, or you will end up with very lumpy apple juice.
You pretty much want to steam the apples; you don't want them boiling and bobbling around.

Get the water steaming, then cook the apples over medium heat until they are soft and mushy.

Next, pull out that nifty kitchen appliance that our great-grandmothers swore by:
the food mill.

Cooked apples go into the food mill, food mill goes over a big bowl, elbow grease keeps the mill turning . . .

and you end up with a lovely bowl full of amazing applesauce.

And a big pile of empty skins and seeds and other icky parts left in the food mill,
that you can just toss out.

Meanwhile, the applesauce has gained every last bit of flavor from the apples.
No waste. You can sweeten or add cinnamon if you must; I don't.

These apples were little MacIntoshes from a New Jersey orchard; I took my Dad there yesterday as he was jonesing for some late summer peaches. I also bought some fabulous eating apples, bred specially for New Jersey.

(Meaning that when they ask, 'You wanna piece o'me? Huh?
You wanna piece of ME?" . . . you can truthfully answer, "Yes.")

Sadly I cannot remember the name of these Jersey bred apples.

I will just have to go back and get some more.

So . . . if you visited That Old House yesterday, and are desperately hungry because there was no food on the table, this is your little midday meal:

Freshly made, warm applesauce,

cornbread hot out of the oven

sharp Wisconsin Cheddar, and good Colombian coffee.

As my other Grandmother used to say, when she finished putting the food down at dinner to feed her family of 9,
"Well, that's all there is, and what are you going to do about it?"

Go ahead, sit down.
Remember the table is set in the conservatory.

If you are really peckish, I've got a little seafood chowder heating up. ;-) -- Cass

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Thanks to Michael for hosting Foodie Friday at Designs By Gollum,

and to Marie of Emma Calls Me Mama for her Heirloom Party

Ladies, you rock. :-)

Please click on the links above, or near the beginning of the post,
to join these parties and read what others are posting about!

P.S. It was hard for me to choose which Heirloom to feature today; I am very lucky to have many family things. If you are new to That Old House and are curious about some of our hand-me-down furniture, you can visit this post from July 7, 2009.

P.P.S. Illustrated Note to Self: When cooking on a stove, it helps to turn on the burner that is actually underneath the pot. It takes too long otherwise . . . .

Yes, I really did that. Doh!