Article Discussion

The smokehouse was my favorite out building as discussed in my recent book, Growing Up Appalachian, as well as the cave/cellar in the side of the hill near the house. What pungent odors came from the cave/cellar when one opened the door and entered the dark and damp sanctuary for everything from canned meat and vegetables to salt fish to squash and pumpkins. Of course potatoes abounded in their bins awaiting the housewife who cleaned and peeled them for frying, boiling etc. How exciting to see mom coming down the hill from the cave/cellar with a pan of potatoes held under her arm and a jar of sausage in the other cautiously taking each step in the snow and ice until she reached the walk leading to the kitchen.

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