Stirring Up Memories

Fresh Chicken in a Minute

WHEN I was a child in the 1940s, my mother would take me along when she went to the chicken store.

The store was lined with cages almost to the ceiling, each holding a chicken. My mother would point to the one she wanted, and the clerk would open the cage, grab the chicken, cut its throat and put it in a tub to bleed out. Then he dipped it in scalding water and held it over a large rotating drum with hundreds of rubber fingers that stripped off all the feathers.

The clerk then wrapped the chicken in paper and tied it. Mother would pay for it and we would leave the store in what seemed like one minute. I can still smell those wet feathers!

—Ronald Van Orden, Bennington, Vermont

The Magical Meal

TIMES were hard back in the 1920s, but there was always enough food on the table. Mother had a fireless cooker—a large, well-insulated box with a heavy lid. Inside were three deep wells, each with a heavy aluminum pot with a lid that sealed.

Early in the morning, Mother took the pots out. In one she browned seasoned meat, added a little water and got it to the boiling point, then put the lid on tight and put it in the well. In the second well was a pot of boiling dried beans, water and seasonings. In the third well, she boiled a pot of rice, water and salt. By noon we had a warm, well-cooked meal. She always fixed a vegetable and made a dessert, too. I thought it was all magic.

—Gertrude Robinson, Welsh, Louisiana