Week's End

The deeper I dig into this way of life, the more often it occurs to me how dangerous it was to be a housewife during the '40s. Between hot oil in the frying pan, a searingly hot iron, and chemicals you have to be super careful using about the house and garden - it was a fearsome job. It still is! Not only can you damage property or waste food if you make a mistake, but you could end up with burnt arms or worse... I think many of us look on homemaking as a very simple, gentle, quiet job, but the housewife is actually working with some very dangerous substances and tools. Even in 2009. I'm a pretty clumsy person and tend to rush into things like new recipes, but clumsiness and haste aren't going to do me any favors on this job.

Since adding Wash Day and Ironing Day to my housekeeping routine, I've been spending a lot more time with my clothes than ever before - and am realizing just how intimately a woman in the 1940s knew her wardrobe. And not just where she bought it and how much she paid for it. My '40s counterpart would've known fabrics inside and out - known what temperature water to wash each fabric in, how exactly it should be dried, whether it should be ironed on the right side or the wrong side. If a garment was made from a blend of fibers, it had another protocol entirely. Add buttons and zippers and decorative trim to the mix, and laundry became an intricate balance of needs. And I'm not even counting the time a woman spent on the articles she made herself! There's a whole different relationship to fabrics that this kind of time and attentiveness brought about - particularly to clothing. You'd be so much more likely to guard against damaging your garments, to work earnestly at removing stains before they set. This is foreign territory for me still.

I find myself truly appreciative these days of the encyclopedia's worth of knowlege a '40s housewife carried about in her head. Rules for everything from which batters needed more stirring than others to which laundry required a cool wash. Everything I'm resorting to the manual to find out. Now, she'd probably been absorbing this stuff since she was a little girl, so it'd have come quite naturally. Maybe I'll start to pick up some of this knowledge, too --- at least some of the more general rules. 'Til then, thank goodness for America's Housekeeping Book!

Kitchen Chemistry

What simple luxury it is to make a bed which isn't wedged in against the wall! I was tickled pink to find yesterday's hard work paying off today, and boy does it make me want to buy some lovely vintage bedding. Just to show off my newly-acquired bedmaking skills. I put my ruler back to work this morning and carefully measured off 18 inches from the head of the bed to decide where to fold back the top sheet. My mom still makes beds the way the Good Housekeeping manual recommends: folding down the bedspread, laying the pillows on top of the upside-down portion of the bedspread, then rolling everything back into place. It makes that crease at the bottom of the pillows which looks so streamlined.

I knew this morning's menu was going to be a toughie, so I got started on the dough for the Yeast Cinnamon Rolls last night:

Sliced Orange
Hard-cooked Egg
Yeast Cinnamon Roll (from stored dough)
Coffee

My 1945 recipe only measures yeast in cakes. Fortunately, the packets of "dry yeast" I purchased had a conversion formula printed on the back. 3 packets = 1 cake of yeast. I can't remember the last time I made any kind of raised dough, so my kitchen felt like a chemistry lab as I set to work softening the yeast in warm water and scalding milk in a pan. This was at about 6:00 yesterday evening. By 6:20, the dough had been kneaded and set in a covered bowl in a warm-ish spot to rise. Two hours later - nothing. The dough was still the same size it had been when I placed it in the bowl. My heart sinking, I checked my cookbook for tips - nothing there except the suggestion that I had probably killed the yeast. So I looked around online and luckily came across a website with step-by-step instructions - and photos - on making a raised bread dough. At the very bottom of the screen was just what I had been hoping to find:

"Bread Problem Solving

1. What if it doesn't rise?
Your liquid was most likely either too hot or too cold and you've killed the yeast. Don't despair, this bread can still be saved! Dissolve 1 tablespoon yeast and 1 teaspoon of sugar in 1/2 cup very warm water (110°F). Mix in 1/2 cup all purpose flour. Let this mixture stand in a warm place for about 10 minutes. It will turn foamy and spongy. Beat this mixture into your un-risen dough then knead in enough flour to correct the consistency. Cover this dough and place it back in a warm place to rise. Proceed as normal."

http://www.fabulousfoods.com/index.php?option=com_resource&controller=article&article=19904&category_id=223&Itemid=&pagenum=1

Thank goodness. Whoever put this website together saved my dough! And this morning's breakfast. My "lab" looked like a hurricane had swept through it by the time I took the Cinnamon Rolls out of the oven at midnight, but at least I didn't have to throw away the ingredients. I can't imagine how a housewife during the war must have felt if her dough didn't rise - or "lighten," as the cookbook describes it. Throwing away rationed ingredients must have felt so unpatriotic. Then again, she'd probably have been working with yeast-raised dough since she was a teenager.