18th Century Sno-Cones

18 Tuesday Jun 2013

Posted by kittycalash in Food, Living History, Reenacting

Tags

10th Massachusetts, Battle of Monmouth 2013, Brigade of the American Revolution, Events, food, Monmouth 235th, Reenacting

Nooning Saturday. Sandwiches and fruit

You may not have seen the Mad Men episode about the Sno Ball campaign, but chances are good you remember Sno Cones in paper cups from street vendors or Woolworth’s. On a hot August afternoon in Chicago, they were a treat waiting for the insufferably delayed Number 11 bus. On a warm New Jersey night, one can be inspired.

When the Wemrock Orchards truck came through camp Saturday evening, we bought another bag of ice—20 pounds!—and added ice to our pitchers. The Young Mr started crunching ice cubes, and The Adjutant observed, “You’re following the label’s advice: ‘Ice is Food’.” Mr S and I looked at each other and said, “I wonder if you could make a shrub slushy?” But what to beat the ice with? Musket butts were considered and rejected. And suddenly the Young Mr said, “We have a mallet!”

Indeed we do: Mr S made us a whacking great mallet with an enormous head. We ran to the tent to fetch the mallet and the flask of shrub, wrapped two handfuls of ice in the cleanest white cloth we had, laid it on Table (a clean, flat piece of firewood) and wielded the mallet. Just a small amount of shrub (recipe here) will do; it’s pretty potent stuff, even when non-alcoholic. I did not whack long enough, but shrub over crushed ice is a delicious, if highly unlikely for a common soldier, treat. The Adjutant is correct: the ice needed more whacking. But when he said, “I guess someone will have to make a mallet for the unit that’s flat on one side and serrated on another,” I figured we’d been accepted, crazy snow-cones and all.

Monmouth Overview

17 Monday Jun 2013

Posted by kittycalash in Events, Reenacting

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

10th Massachusetts, Battle of Monmouth 2013, Brigade of the American Revolution, Events, living history, Revolutionary War

Cricket!

Yes, I’m tired, but what a great weekend. Even Cricket seems to have been happy. (Yes, I know pugs don’t smile and I know brachycephalic dogs have a hard time breathing, and Cricket was hot, but he did also seem pretty happy to be out in a field under a tree.) The worst of it was getting there: what should have been a 4-5 hour trip took 7 and a quarter hours, thank you New Jersey Turnpike shore traffic. Even people who left New England at 10 had 6-hour journeys, so leaving earlier would not have helped. Also, we would not have been ready as there were very last-minute gear and food assemblies required. This lengthy journey did allow us the chance to play an extended game of “what the hell is that smell?” The unfortunate winner turned out to be Mr S, who guessed cat pee, but that’s a story for another post, or perhaps for Jackson Galaxy.

Mr S on “Chair” made from stacked firewood. It works.

After erecting tents in the gloaming, including one we’d not been able to check out at home due to heavy work schedules and slight matter of incessant rain, we crashed in our clothes on straw beds and made it to Saturday. Saturday brought coffee, thank goodness, and thanks to Tew’s Company’s willingness to share their fire. (Fire good.) I finally found the camp kitchens on the map, but never walked out to them—happy trails militia folks, but the earthen kitchens were too far from our part of the Continental camp to be really practical. So we made like light infantry and perched on firewood under a tree, ate cold rations and scammed off the hat regiment.

Coming off the field, Sunday

There were plenty of sutlers, but I did not buy 5 yards of the cross barred white and blue at Burnley & Trowbridge to replicate the oyster seller gown because really, first I have to make the black heart cherry gown. I did buy a new hat and ribbon, and pair of more appropriate shears, and most satisfying of all, shoes. I have Burnley and Trowbridge shoes, and while the width is fine and narrow, the length is not and arch support is absent. By the end of a day, my feet and I are miserable, which reduces my stamina and increases my hip pain. (I have arthritis, and had my right hip replaced 2-and-a-half years ago; I’m not that old, but my femoral heads have high mileage.) On the recommendation of several friends, and despite the rubber heels, I tried Flying Canoe shoes. Though a trifle wide, the length was right and I was sold. They vastly improved my outlook and stamina, so were worth the heel cap compromise, with many thanks to my mother for an early birthday present she doesn’t yet know she bought me.