The “Tin Kitchen” ~ D. K. Deters

A pan of biscuit dough rests inside a small tin oven, propped carefully in front of the flames. There is no stove, no kitchen—only ingenuity and necessity. For many early settlers, this simple device, known as a reflector oven, made baking on the frontier possible.

While browsing the Internet for information about cooking tools early settlers used, I happened upon the reflector oven. Curious, I had to learn more.

The portable tin reflector oven appeared in America during the second half of the 1700s. Also known as a “tin kitchen” or “tin oven,” it was likely adapted from European open-hearth cooking. These ovens were typically made of tinplate or sheet iron and had three enclosed sides, with the fourth side left open to face the fire. They came in various sizes, depending on what the user wants to cook.

During Westward Expansion, the reflector oven was ideal for settlers, traders, and soldiers because it only required a campfire. With it, the cook could bake breads and cakes on the trail.

By the mid-1800s, reflector ovens were a standard part of rural American homes, and their design became more refined. Innovations included folding sides, multiple racks, and polished interiors to improve heat reflection and usability.

The tin kitchen represents the resourcefulness of early American settlers. This oven was especially popular in Appalachia, the Midwest frontier, and logging and mining camps.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, as cast-iron stoves became more widely available, reflector ovens fell out of everyday household use. However, they never fully disappeared. Today, their continued use by campers and backpackers connects modern outdoor enthusiasts with early American traditions.

Based on historical sources about early American cooking tools.

https://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/object/nmah_309723

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reflector_oven

https://www.nps.gov/places/beol_kitchen.htm

The Flavors of a Country Childhood by Rhonda Frankhouser

Smells and flavors bring back as many memories as old pictures....or music.

💞

When I pondered what home really means to me, I immediately thought of food. I was raised on a farm by good southern folks who wielded the mystical powers of the cast iron skillet and bacon grease. Between their masterful culinary skills and fresh garden bounty, we never went without a delicious meal.

I can recall the fine stitching of my grandmother's apron and still taste the Juicy Fruit gum she shared as we cooked together. I remember how everyone gathered in the kitchen, laughing over steaming pots of heaven boiling on the stove; mason jars of sweet tea in every hand. Fresh cut okra, squash and onions frying together in a hot-buttered skillet. Home made ice cream being cranked by hand on the back porch. And let's not forget the perfectly browned biscuits and corn bread sitting on the counter with grandma's cheese cloth rags over the top to keep off the flies. Oh God, I miss it! And I miss all those beautiful human beings who raised me in that kitchen.

Thankfully, I did learn how to cook those savory specialties, keeping some of our family traditions alive. Chicken 'n dumplings, chicken fried steak, fried chicken and mashed potatoes, to name a few. Who knew soaking fresh snapped green beans in broth before cooking was the secret to winning over the next generation of vegetable haters. Half 'n half in the banana pudding, instead of milk, naughty, yes, but yum. A dollop of mayonnaise is the miracle in my mashed potatoes, but don't tell my kids. Meat loaf to die for and my grandmother's delicious crispy cornbread and special recipe lemon vanilla home made ice cream, makes my mouth water just thinking about it. 

I'm proud to be the matriarch of the family now, not because I make the rules or offer some godfather like counsel, but because I can still roll a mean biscuit and make lump free sausage gravy. I consider it a true blessing that I was raised before technology took over the world. Before microwave ovens zapped the life out of food and cell phones numbed the minds of the future. I'm glad I lived in a time before families forgot how to look one another in the eye and truly communicate.

What foods do you remember from your childhood? Special traditions? If not food, what? Our family played guitars and dominoes. Let's reminiscence together? We need to remember the simpler things. And we need to pass those precious traditions on to the next generation before they are lost forever!!!

Thanks for listening, Rhonda

Rhonda's award-winning Ruby's Ranch Series, earned a finalist honor in the Uncaged Book Review Raven Awards, a 2nd Runner Up in the prestigious InD'Tale Magazine RONE awards and a Books and Benches, Reviewers Top Pic ~ Books of Distinction award.  Her follow up Shadowing Souls Series and Let Yourself Believe Series, have captured the attention of both romance and mainstream readers alike. Though originally a California girl, Rhonda now writes full time from her lovely Atlanta Georgia home.

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One Potato, Two Potato

Oops. I woke up this morning with a vague sense of something not right and logged into my e-mail and then FB. All seemed okay there, so I checked that the blog post I scheduled went live…Wrong blog. Wrong post. Wrong day.

So, I deleted the post. No harm, no foul, right?

Wrong. I didn’t back that post up when I wrote it. So, I’m recreating this one from scratch, rather like the subject of my post—making yeast when there isn’t a grocery store for miles and miles or a few more decades of time.

Making yeast was something every cook, wife, and baker probably knew how to do in the time period we’re talking about. Without yeast, you’ve got flatbread. And if you didn’t know how to make yeast, you couldn’t just run to the grocery store. Even if you could just run into town, what we know as grocery stores still didn’t exist.

The simplest recipe to make yeast involves potatoes, sugar, and flour. Boil your potatoes as you usually would, except save three cups of the water. Divide the water in half. Stir in about a tablespoon of sugar and about a cup of flour into a cup and a half of the water, or until the mixture is sort of stiff. Cover and leave overnight in a warm place and it should be bubbly and yeasty-smelling the next morning. If not, you’ll need to start over. (That’s where the other half of the boiled potato water came in.) If you don’t have flour, you can boil an extra potato and plan to smash that potato and use as the starter for the yeast.

Have you ever heard when selecting potatoes for cooking (other than baked) that it’s one for me, one for you, and one for the pot? The one for the pot was so the cook could make yeast.

After all this talk of boiled, smashed potatoes…I’m hungry.