the sweetness of cashmere bouquet

Do you have those things that you save, moving them around each time you clean, but never throwing them out because "I'm gonna do something with that someday" ?

Today is someday.  I finally have not just moved the wrapper from a hotel-size soap that I've had around my dresser drawer for two years.  I've "done something" by looking up "Cashmere Bouquet" on line.  I already knew it was an old-fashioned product of Colgate-Palmolive because the moment I opened up the mini-bar in the hotel room, I ws transported back to the porch of my grandparent's farmhouse in Twin Bluffs, WI.  This "porch" was actually a 8'X8' room into which you entered into their home; then you passed into their kitchen by going through another door with a glass window.  The importance of this room was evident by the extra refrigerater, portable washing machine and other items lining the walls, surrounding the small open floor space in the center.

Right by the door there was a wooden chair with a small rug , so you could sit down and take off your boots and shoes--thus ensuring that dirt, or worse, didn't travel into the house any further.  Above the chair was a calender with notes about milk pickup dates, birthdays, or other events noted in pen or pencil.  There were hooks for a couple of jackets and hats, but most outerware was put away into a small coat closet that also included strange items such as hair clippers, pink permanent rods, a jar of Dippity-Do, and extra towels because that wooden chair also became the barber or salon chair occasionally for any of four generations who Grandma thought "needed a trimming" or a "wave".  It was an ideal salon because of the large basined sink built into one corner--perfect for washing up after milking chores or for the many rinses of perms.  In the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, you could find combs, brushes, bandaids, bactine, udder balm and Ponds cold cream--with preference to udder balm for  hands chapped by winds and snows of rural Wisconsin winters.

Even now as I sniff the empty wrapper, I can "see" that bar of Cashmere Bouquet on the corner edge of the farmhouse sink.  I knew then that the luscious rose-floral scent was from exotic places like France or Italy where my dad had been stationed between the Korean and Vietnam years.  It was just more proof that my grandmother was a "lady" farmwife, who paid attention to nice smells and fresh fingernail polish, even with berry stains on her fingers during summer canning sessions.

On a website about the history of the soap, http://www.brandlandusa.com/2008/12/10/history-of-colgates-cashmere-bouquet/, I learned that Cashmere Bouquet was the first milled, perfumed toilet soap, introduced in 1872.  It was seen as a luxury soap then, when many were making DIY soap from animal fat and lye that is still used in the process. 

Alas, I have not been finding Cashmere Bouquet and Palmolive--another old-time hand soap--in any stores.  It is primarily sold in discount stores and used in hotels--which is where I ran across my little cossetted bar.  Ironically, it is easier to find these MADE IN USA products in Europe, U.K. and Australia (according to the website) as there it  is viewed as a natural soap, made of animal tallow, lye, fragrance, glycerin and a few other ingredients. 

I have held onto this soap wrapper as if a talisman that would lead me back to the simple pleasures I enjoyed as a child on my grandparent's farm.  Did my grandmother love this soap, too?  Did it reduce her tension and stress  amidst all the bustle of daily farm life?  Who says aromatherapy is a new idea! 

All I know is that I want some Cashmere Bouquet in my day.

Green Tomato Chow Chow

Grandma Moore--my Mom's grandma--was one of many of the generation who knew how to thrive as well as survive.  The motto "reduce, reuse, recycle" may have even seemed a bit fancy to her, as "make do or do without" was the unconscious practice of many in her time and location.  A widow with a large family, she managed to keep the kids and keep the farm in what is considered by experts as "marginal farm country"--the beautiful ridges and valleys of southwest Wisconsin that I am so proud to have called home for 30+ years. 

The following recipe is probably a pretty good representation of her approach to using all that the good land produced to provide flavorful condiments to the home-grown fare place with loving hands on the large farm table.  There are always greent tomatos plentiful on the vine at the end of the growing season, catching them before the first frost. Why not capitalize on that green bounty, too?

Food on the farm might be simple, but it didn't have to be without flavor!  All of my maternal relatives are excellant cooks, bakers and candy-makers, starting from "scratch".  In fact, I believe that cooking from "scratch" and using freshly picked produced and homegrown meats are the secrets to their locally reknown culinary reputations. 

My Grandma Mildred Wastlick dictated this recipe to me about 10 years ago.  I reproduced it below just as she described the recipe.  And, I have made a couple of batches, adding even more sugar than the 3 cups my grandma first suggested was probably about right.  She said Grandma Moore liked her chow chow sweet, so I don't think adding 2 cups more would offend her :-).  I use 5 cups of sugar myself.  So far, I enjoyed the chow chow on roasted turkey, pork dishes, sandwiches and on fried potatos.  No kidding--replace that red tomato catsup with green tomato chow chow.

Ella's Green Tomato Chow Chow

1 peck of green tomatow (4 qts or 15#)
6 large onions
4 green peppers
Grind these together and drain off green juice goodl
Use about 1 quart of vinegar, put tomato mixture in it.  Let it boil until it changes color then drain again.
Take 1 quart vinegar, 1 tablespoon ground mustard, 1 tablespoon celery seed, and sugar to suit taste, maybe 3 cups?  Add 1 tablesppon salt--you can tell that by taste, too.
Put the strained tomatos in large pot and let come to boil, place in jars, it keeps without sealing, but I'd heat and seal if I was keeping it long.  You can make it sweeter or less according to your taste.  Grandma Moore liked her's sweet.  (Sue's note:  see above comments!!).