The Perpetual Stew Pot

by Pam Hillman

I live in the 21^st century (surprise, surprise!), but my brain has been immersed in the 18^th century for the last several years. I’m writing a series set in 1790s Natchez and the surrounding area that includes the Natchez Trace. The series is appropriately called the Natchez Trace Novel Series. And the first book The Promise of Breeze Hill releases in August 2017. You can read more about the Natchez Trace here.

Yesterday, J. M. Hochstettler brought us an eye opening post about the mind-boggling amount of work the colonial housewife had to do each and every day, year in and year out. If you missed it, you can read Joan's post here.

When I read Joan's post, I was reminded of the Proverbs 31 woman who rises before dawn and well ... just does everything and then some... and they call her blessed. Then I'm reminded of the fast-food world we live in. The ease of doing laundry, picking up dinner at the drive thru, or just putting a roast and all the trimmings in a crock pot or an instant pot and walking away.

We love our shortcuts, don't we? Well, there were a few shortcuts that even the colonial housewife used... such as the perpetual stew.

In the 1790s, most colonists raised their own food and prepared meals from scratch. The staples were basically the same with a few variations depending on what part of the country people lived in… vegetables, pork, chicken, fish, beef, mutton, wild game, eggs, milk, corn and grains (also ground into meal and flour), molasses, honey. Spices such as pepper and salt might have been hard to come by, and refined sugar as we know it was a luxury, not a necessity. So was coffee for many people. Even if someone could afford to purchase or barter for something they didn’t grow on their own land, they still received the food in its “raw” state. No boxed dinners here.

While many of our modern day “plain fare” might be similar, like a hearty pot of meat and vegetable soup, we have all these conveniences that make preparing the meal so much easier, even if we choose to cook a meal from scratch occasionally. And that’s not even including the drive-thru where we can grab a burger and fries or even have a pizza delivered, or just pop a pre-made one in the oven.

The 18^th century cook should have spent most of her day preparing meals to feed her family. Just think about all that preparation if they had broiled fish for the noon meal, baked ham for supper, fried chicken or mutton stew the next day, not to mention all the vegetables and bread that she’d need to go along with the meat portion. It wasn’t like she could just run through McDonald’s or Domino’s and grab dinner for everyone.

I daresay that’s why she fed her family from the perpetual stew pot. What’s that, you ask?

“A perpetual stew, also known as hunter's pot or hunter's stew, is a pot into which whatever one can find is placed and cooked. The pot is never or rarely emptied all the way, and ingredients and liquid are replenished as necessary.” (Perpetual Stew, Wikipedia)

Now that we’re all sufficiently grossed out, done properly (and what 18^th century housewife wouldn’t have known how to do it properly), the contents of perpetual stew would be unlikely to kill anyone. Some resources I read said the perpetual stew pot might not be emptied and washed until Lent. For the uniformed, Lent only comes once a year. Gulp.

Another interesting blog mentioned that by having perpetual stew over the fire, the family could eat whenever the need arose. And if perpetual stew is being served in an inn, or a stand, as they were called along the Natchez Trace, then this makes perfect sense. The proprietor would have stew to feed travelers at any time of day or night. No rushing to the chicken coop to — you know — turn live squeaking chicken into chicken and dumplings or fried chicken that might feed two or three hungry men and no more. Nope. Instead, they’d save that chicken for the morrow and add it to the stew pot along with a lot of vegetables, grain, and an opossum or two.

What if Pop comes home from hunting and only has one rabbit? One rabbit isn’t enough to feed a family of ten, but the perpetual stew is simmering in the kettle, so Mom just browns the rabbit and adds it to the pot along with some wild onions that she found earlier in the day, and maybe a mealy potato or two, and it simmers all night and they have fresh meat in the pot for the next day.

Native Americans also got in on the act. Family groups (whole tribes, possibly?) used this method to feed their people.

Lest you think perpetual stew is something out of the dark ages, think again.

As recently as 2014, Chef David Santos prepared perpetual stew in his restaurant, Louro, in New York City. Chef David started his perpetual stew in August 2014 and as of the writing of this blog post on January 26, 2015, that perpetual stew (dubbed Stu) was still going strong. The last tweet on the Louro Perpetual Stew twitter account was March 9, 2016, so that means that Stu was alive and well and being consumed by customers for at least 18 months. Also, as an aside, Louro has now closed its doors, but Chef David has opened another restaurant with multiple locations, appropriately named Good Stock.

And last, but not least… “Some family restaurants in China claim that the same sauce has been used continuously for 75 years.” (Click for source)

I can’t even imagine. Would you? Could you?

Eat it, that is.

The Promise of Breeze Hill, available for pre-order from your favorite retailer. (The story may or may not feature a pot of perpetual stew.)

Amazon, B&N, CBD

CBA Bestselling author PAM HILLMAN was born and raised on a dairy farm in Mississippi and spent her teenage years perched on the seat of a tractor raking hay. In those days, her daddy couldn't afford two cab tractors with air conditioning and a radio, so Pam drove an Allis Chalmers 110. Even when her daddy asked her if she wanted to bale hay, she told him she didn't mind raking. Raking hay doesn't take much thought so Pam spent her time working on her tan and making up stories in her head. Now, that's the kind of life every girl should dream of. www.pamhillman.com

Sweet Tidings from Fort Michilimackinac

Colonial Cake Baking
Carrying firkins of butter, which means a cask, which holds 56 pounds? Or picking up a bag of flour weighing 196 pounds? Not me! The 18th century woman would have had to be as strong as a weight lifter, just to do everyday tasks. There’s no need to go to the gym to stay in shape, when you’ve been balancing a heavy wooden yoke over your shoulders to bring two buckets filled with water to from the well to the house.

Fort Michilimackinac (Mackinaw City, Michigan) {PD} 

Whitefish and corn were staples on the Straits of Mackinac, so I was surprised to learn the residents of Fort Michilimackinac took their sweets rather seriously. While cane sugar was imported by the British from the West Indies, the Native Americans and French gladly processed maple sugar to help create their confections, such as cakes, pies, and other desserts made with fruit. Honey and molasses were also used.

The cake of the 18th century was heavier and rich with spices. There was no need for frosting. The consumer was happy with a dusting of sugar. As I looked over some cake recipes of that era, I found less sugar and fat in them than today’s recipes. However, they used rich, creamy butter, or lard. Without an electric mixer, the cook worked hard to froth the eggs and beat the mixture to lighten the cake. Still, their cakes were heavier.

Cooking Sunday Dinner at the Fort by Greg Grossmeier, 2009 {CC}

The colonial cook couldn’t turn a dial or press buttons to preheat an oven. Instead, she preheated a Dutch oven by placing it on top of hot ashes. Next, the cake batter can either be poured directly into the oven, or a trivet is placed in the bottom with a filled cake pan placed on top. Once the method is decided, the cook covers the Dutch oven with a lid and hot coals are placed on top. Whew! I think I’m tired just reading about the process. I am now less likely to take for granted the ease of shoving a hurriedly prepared box mix into a preheated oven!

Here’s a recipe from History from the Hearth: A Colonial Michilimackinac Cookbook by Sally Eustace, which I thought you may enjoy this fall.

Applesauce Cake (Eggless)

1 cup brown sugar
1 ¼ cups applesauce
1 tsp baking soda
2 cups flour
½ tsp cloves
1/3 cup shortening
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 cup raisins

Beat shortening and sugar together. Sift dry ingredients and use some to dust the raisins. Mix dry ingredients into the sugar mixture alternatively with the applesauce. Fold in raisins. Pour into a preheated Dutch oven and bake about 45 minutes.

Birthday Cake from a Dutch Oven by Jinx, 2010 {CC} 

(While I must confess I have not yet tried this recipe, I would like to find my enamel ware Dutch oven and try it. I’m thinking a moderate oven temperature of 350 could work.) At least I don’t have to make the applesauce or stoke the fire! I look forward to enjoying the blessings of modern convenience and the taste of colonial times. Happy colonial cooking to you!

Kathleen Rouser has loved making up stories since she was a little girl. Her debut novella, The Pocket Watch, is part of Brave New Century, a Christian historical romance anthology, published in 2013. Her short story, “Special Assignment” was included in the 2014 bestselling anthology, Christmas Treasures. Her first full-length novel, Rumors and Promises, will be published in April, 2016 by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas. She has had several magazine articles published and also contributes regularly to Novel PASTimes, a blog devoted to promoting mainly Christian historical fiction. She is a long time member in good standing of ACFW and a former board member of its Great Lakes Chapter. 

She lives in Michigan with her sassy, tail-less cat, Lilybits, and her husband of 33 years, Jack, who not only listens to her stories, but also cooks for her. www.kathleenrouser.com