Food History

Today I have another guest post. These posts and my friends are keeping me sane. I should be through the worst of things soon and back to normal posting even sooner. Until then, enjoy.

Emma of TreehouseJukebox is going to introduce us to a museum that sounds as if it comes from The Hobbit. It’s in an old mill, but, as she says, that’ another food history story.

The pig was always my favorite.

Why exactly, I’m not sure, but there was something wonderful about that giant painting of a pig - lit and hung along with all the other acclaimed artwork at the Brandywine River Museum.

‘Portrait of a Pig’ is the full name of the Jamie Wyeth piece. It and the work of all the other Wyeths have been swirling around in my mind since the recent death of painter Andrew Wyeth.

All throughout my childhood, my family would visit the Brandywine River Museum each winter and enjoy their collections by those local artists. There were other wonderful things to be seen inside the museum, but this is really about the food.

Every year, after we’d seen the sights indoors, we’d go back out into the freezing cold courtyard. It’s a beautiful, cobblestone market area. Local artisans would sell handmade yarn, sweaters, and quilts.

But we bought only two things every year: piping hot apple cider and freshly roasted chestnuts.

The chestnuts were roasted right there and scooped into small paper bags by a vendor wearing fingerless gloves. I remember the feeling of holding the warm packet in my cold fingers. At first, they’d be too hot to eat, but soon I’d be peeling the chestnuts and savoring each mouthful.

And we can’t forget the cider. This was cider pressed from local apples and served as hot as possible. It was tart, tangy, and delicious. It was especially memorable for its heavy dose cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. To this day, I love my apple cider full of those fragrant spices.

Hot chestnuts and spiced apple cider will always be inextricably linked, for me, with the work of Andrew Wyeth and all the other Wyeths - and with winter memories of childhood.