Nor’easter Day 3

The nor’easter was supposed to have blown itself out by now, but the winds still rage, and the bay still surges. I worry out loud about our ability to drive to the Plimoth Plantation tonight for the New England Harvest Dinner that I booked the first day we arrived. More than just food, it is a walk back in time to the way food was eaten and prepared during the 1600s.

Michael listens while I worry, and he utters two words, “Oh, Charlotte…” He keeps the give me a break part to himself.

I start planning on how many layers I can put on under my raincoat.

Plimoth Plantation New England Harvest Feast

Arriving at twilight, the parking lot isn’t full—and it shouldn’t be—but there are between 30 – 40 cars huddled near the entrance.  We take the stairway from the wet asphalt down to the rain-soaked path strewn with withered leaves and walk toward the sprawling Visitor Center.

Following the crowd, we arrive in front of a cash bar where they offer a limited selection of wine and beer.  I wish for hot mulled wine to warm me but settle for a glass of merlot. Michael has a beer.

Three very long tables are set up in an equally long room. There is assigned seating. We take our places at the end of the table nearest the fireplace. Lifelong residents of Massachusetts, a retired couple from only fifteen miles away, sit next to us. They tell us it has been twenty years since they have been to the plantation.  We can top that—it has been 50 years for us.

Let the Feast Begin

The festivities begin and we are welcomed by three pilgrims, two I do not know—a preacher and his wife—the third I am very familiar with, Fear Allerton. We are given a hint of what is to come. The preacher’s wife gives instructions on where to place our napkins—ladies in their laps, gents over their left shoulder—how to eat (with our fingers, maybe a spoon if it is soupy) and tells us a tiny bit about the food we will consume. 

There will be two courses.  Each containing proteins and vegetables. Each item served separately. We are to, in essence, lick our plate clean each time—it is the only one we have. With the flat of our knife as a scoop, we spoon some salt onto our plate. Bread and butter is passed around. We begin.

Bill of Fare – First Course

A Sallet

Our first dish is a sallet, and I wonder how to eat salad with my fingers, but lightly dressed, it works. And it is good! Not boiled the way the Pilgrims would have eaten it; the lettuce and cucumbers are fresh crisp and delicious. I somehow even manage to eat the egg garnish with my fingers. Using my bread as a pusher for the egg onto a sturdy lettuce leaf doesn’t hurt.

Mussels Seeth’d with Parsley and Beer

I wonder at the second course. Even though I love mussels, I am not sure about the bitter beer part.  I always feel it is all about the sauce. The mussels are the excuse to indulge. A giant bowl of these shellfish (3 bowls per table) is passed around to share, seemingly without sauce.

Too difficult to spoon them, I grab four by their shells, giving them a new home on my plate, and dig them out of their shiny black shells with my fingers. They are tender and surprisingly delicious, imbued with that beer thing I was so worried about. Michael is even impressed.

Most of us have seconds, and when I decide to spoon sauce onto my plate because the woman sitting next to me raves about how delicious it is, I turn my salt to a pile of mush.  I’m hard pressed to figure out how to get rid of it with my limited utensils and just one plate.  An empty mussel shell fills the bill nicely. I spend quite a bit of time sopping up all this sauce with the sturdy 1600s bread.

A Dish of Turkey, Sauc’d

I admit. Turkey is not my favorite protein. I’ve never loved it. It always seems rather tasteless. It is normally my savory and spicy Southern cornbread dressing that saves the day. However, the slices of turkey that are place on my pewter plate are moist and tasty, even with out the sauce. 

I tear the meat with my fingers and place it in my mouth. I think I like eating this way.  No wonder it is so hard to teach a baby how to eat with a spoon or fork. At the beginning of our meal the minister’s wife did tell us there is not better implement for eating than you thumb and the first two fingers of your right hand.  I believe her.

A Pottage of Cabbage, Leeks and Onions

Our first warm vegetable, and one that does require an implement, our spoon, is delicious. Not cabbage(y). Not onion(y). It is just a wonderful meld of mild flavors, perfectly seasoned.  I taste a tiny touch of sugar. We all have seconds. A woman at the table tells us she is going to have her son make this same dish for Thanksgiving.  I wonder if she knows how to secure the recipe.

A Sweet Pudding of Native Corn

Of course, the corn pudding is unlike any I have ever had. In the bowl it looks like a dish of oatmeal I used to serve my daughter, sans raisins. Spooned on my plate it looks like the dough of a raw oatmeal cookie. In my mouth, it tastes like neither. More texture than oatmeal, I cannot find a hint of corn anywhere. However, the pilgrims in training sitting at our table assure me it is in there, and much much better than the corn pudding the pilgrims used to eat.

Intermezzo

And all of this is only the first course. We learn songs. We sing songs. We sing songs in rounds.  As a group we sound great. The ceiling is high. The acoustics incredible.

Go to Joan Glover

And tell her I love her

And at the end of the moon

I will come to her.

Hey-ho nobody at home

Meat nor drink nor money have I none

Fill the pot Edie!

Second Course

Stew’d Pompion

Who knew that pompion would be mashed and seasoned butternut squash. It is delicious too. Savory, slightly sweet with a texture several ladder steps above mush. Individuals remark this would be great on their Thanksgiving menu too.  I wonder if my grandchildren would eat it? I think they are addicted to sweet potatoes and brown sugar, but you never know.

A Chine of Pork, Roast’d

Moist and savory sliced pork is next. It looks like pork loin, but if it is, it is the moistest pork loin I have ever put in my mouth.  I need to find out how they do this.  Two dry cuts of protein that are moist. They must have used a brining solution for the pork and the turkey.

I remember the first time I ever heard of this was from the Portuguese descendant that told me about linguicia. She informed me that the Portuguese used a heavily seasoned solution of water and vinegar to preserve their meat, and the result was spectacular.  I also remember that I didn’t believe her.

Fricasse of Fish

OK, I don’t love this dish. I don’t even like it. And I am a true fish fan of all species and types, all preparations. I push it to the side, one bite taken.

17th Century Cheesecake with Spice and Dried Fruit

Our 9^th dish of the night is billed as a cheesecake, and I hear the comment, “This is not the cheesecake I was expecting.” It is a small square of not very dense cheesecake with the taste of spice cake, studded with dried fruit. The perfect not too sweet bite to end a more than filling meal. I even keep forgetting to drink my wine.  I try quickly to remedy that situation.

A Charger of Cheese & Fruit

When we all feel we can’t eat another bite, someone brings out a very large wedge of white cheddar cheese accompanied by huge sweet red grapes and dried apricots. I force myself. Truly, I force myself.

Our repast finally complete, we say our goodbyes and waddle out into the night. Into the rain.  Michael, only in a tweed sports coat, hurries. I have on a raincoat with a hood.  I don’t hurry, but carefully tread the uneven terrain. As I climb the stairs I hold tightly to the cold wet slippery rail, making my way to the welcome warmth of the car.

Note

All of the recipes used in this meal are from 17^th century English sources. These sources include 17^th century cookbooks as well as primary source accounts of New England.