Carving Gingerbread Molds

I started carving Gingerbread Molds while working at Old Salem. The history of Gingerbread was something that I had to answer a lot while I worked there. I would be the person to call whenever there were media requests about that history, so I eventually wrote a paper on the history from the Middle Ages until the modern day, just so I would be able to pull up information whenever I got a call from a TV station or magazine, or had to appear on a TV feed for Christmas. (This happened all the time during the Christmas season, the last one I did for Our State can be seen here.) The more I researched, the more I understood that molded Gingerbread was commonly made for Christmas in Europe since the Middle Ages. The Moravians continued the practice until sometime in the mid-19th century,so I decided to carve some molds for us to use when we did Christmas baking at Old Salem. We had some original molds from the early 19th century in our collection, so I started with those designs. I am not good at creating original artwork, at least not drawings, but I can copy most things. So I took pictures or drew copies of the original molds, and then transferred the design onto wood blocks and started carving. I have also carved printing blocks for making paste paper (the adult version of finger-painting), so I had some practice with carving. The main thing to remember with carving things like this is to take off small amounts at a time, because you can’t put the wood back on if you take off the wrong piece. I make knife cuts around the parts I want to remove, so that when I am carving, the wood chip will stop at the cut, which makes it less likely to remove wood you want to keep! One of the more difficult things to remember when carving a cookie mold is that you are making a reverse image, so what you want to project up you need to carve deeper. It requires a little thinking before starting to carve.

The wood I use is generally either poplar, maple, or pear if I can get it. Pear wood was the traditional for professional wood carvers in Europe to use for carving printing blocks for industrial purposes. Professional wood carvers would make designs for different industries in Germany. Printed paper makers, such as those making colored and paste paper, printed fabric makers, and book printers would all buy carved wooden molds for their shops, so the mold carvers were highly skilled and made extremely detailed carvings. Pear was the wood of choice because it is a hard wood that has a very fine grain, which allows for the fine designs. Oak has a coarse grain, and isn’t really good to use, and pine and other soft woods are also bad choices. Many people who do carving as a hobby today will say to use basswood, but I have tried it and found it too soft to get good detail (actually, I really dislike using basswood for carving, it is better for less detailed figurines). Poplar is easier to get, though maple will make beautiful molds. I have ordered pear wood from specialty wood suppliers, and I really like using it. It is also possible that other fruit woods would work, such as apple or cherry, but I have no experience with those. (In a later post, I’ll show the molded gingerbread cookies made with these designs. Also see the Gallery section for more carved molds.)

The first step is to put the image on paper, tack it to the wood block, and then use a pen or pointed stylus to impress the image into the wood. (Someone more skilled in drawing could draw the image directly onto the wood block. I like using the paper because I can adjust the image as much as I want without affecting the wood block I want to carve.)

My next step is to trace the impression with a pencil. I don’t need to put in lines that are going to be lower than the surface. Here, there are several elements on the snowy hills that will be carved, but the snow will need to be higher (which means deeper carved) so I pencil those in once I reach that level.

The carving is done using the pencil drawing as the base. I cut around the parts I want to be careful of with a knife, so that the carving tools don’t take off more wood in delicate spots. When I am finished with all carving, I will do a little sanding to finish some rough spots.

The Annual Leaf Pilgrimage

The end of the Annual Leaf Pilgrimage has arrived. If anyone reading this gardens, you probably know about mulching to preserve moisture and keep weeds down around plants and in a garden. Well, if you have never used them, leaves are a great way to mulch, and they act as a slow fertilizer when they break down. So every fall since I was a kid (and that was some time ago!) we have always gone around the neighborhoods in my city and collected leaf bags from anyone who put them out for the city to pick up. As you may have gathered from previous blog posts, my mother is a big gardener, and since she is happy to help take care of my yard as well as her own, I am more than happy to help her get leaves each fall. This annual drive-around usually takes a couple of weekend days, usually in mid- to late-November. My mother also has particular taste in leaves; not just any will do! These pictured are primarily Willow Oaks (in the south we usually call them Pin Oaks), Maple, some Red Oak, and various decorative trees such as Crepe Myrtles. Pin Oak is a favorite, since the leaves are narrow, which allows water to get to the ground through them, but they don’t break down too quickly, making them great for both moisture retention and mulching in garden rows. (The soil in our area is also unusual for NC, which is usually a bit acidic. Instead, we have more neutral to alkaline soil because of chalk that runs about 18 inches below ground. This means that the tannic acid in the oak leaves helps balance our soil, instead of causing problems.) Maples are fine; even though they are wider than Pin Oaks, they are also quicker to break down, and they don’t matte up to prevent water from getting through. Red Oak, Pecan, and others like that are okay, though they are not the premium leaves. The types we’ll just leave out are White Oak, Sycamore, or Magnolia. They are just too big and won’t break down easily, which makes them bad for both letting water through, and for fertilizing mulch (and walking on them isn’t great either). Using leaves is a lot cheaper and better for the soil than buying landscaping mulch, so Mom wants about 200 bags of leaves each fall. The main difficulty is getting them to fit into the shed! (We did pretty good this year.)

Podcast Recommendation

There are a number of podcasts on Vox that I have listened to, and The Land of the Giants is one of the better ones that I really enjoyed. The second season of 7 podcasts investigates the rise of Netflix and its influence on the movie and TV business. The first episode in the season is about the basics of how Netflix is run, and the next 6 are about the beginning of Netflix, its competition with Blockbuster (and how many people remember all the descriptions about getting videos at Blockbuster!) and then its rise as an independent studio, creating its own media offerings. Each episode is about half an hour, so its less than some other podcasts. I really like how they present the information. I was aware of the basics of the rise of Netflix, but this podcast gave a really good in-depth discussion about what Netflix did and didn’t do to affect that rise. The last episode is about the streaming wars, so it brings it up to the present day. This is the second season in the series, the first was about Amazon. I haven’t listened to that set of episodes, but I will catch up at some point. Overall, a really good podcast to learn about the rise of some of the big companies today. (The embed below is the introduction to the second season about Netflix. The link to Vox is here to listen to the full podcast, it is the second listed. You can listen to them on the Vox website, but realize that at the end of each episode the next one up goes backward, not forward. Not sure why they do that. If you want to listen on Spotify, here is the link.)

I Love Astronomy

When I was in college (the first time) I seriously thought about going into astronomy as a career. My main problem is that math is just not a great subject for me. It is possible that I could have really worked on that weakness, but I decided to go in a different direction. So all my interest in astronomy and space (honestly, I’ll keep up with most of the physical sciences, and half of the social sciences!) goes into reading about the latest discoveries, and occasionally pulling out my 6 inch Dobson telescope. I watch for the newest headlines in Science News magazine, which gives me a good overview of all the main disciplines. The latest updates on the Webb telescope, the planetary discoveries about Jupiter, Saturn, and exoplanets, and the information coming from the New Horizons spacecraft are all fascinating to read about. So I was excited to listen to a new podcast from the Vox website called Unexplainable. This was the intro podcast for a hopefully new series about different science questions. This one is quite good, so I hope they keep doing them. It is on the discovery and on-going questions about dark matter. If you haven’t heard about dark matter, it is one of the really frustrating questions that science is trying to figure out, but just hasn’t had any success answering yet. Apparently, the observations of the visible matter in the universe seems to indicate that we are missing more than we are seeing. This podcast does a good job of getting across the questions that make science both so very interesting, and also something that some people really don’t like or understand about scientific discovery. Most people really want a final answer, they don’t like the idea that there will always be more to learn, and sometimes that knowledge will completely change everything you thought you knew. But that is exactly what science does, it constantly asks questions. This podcast about dark matter really gets at that fundamental property of scientific inquiry, and as a bonus, talks about the woman astronomer who pushed the idea of dark matter to the forefront of astronomy, Vera Rubin. If you are at all interested, have a listen! (And look, I figured out how to embed a podcast, yay me!) If you prefer to read your podcast, here is the link for the Vox website. The text version does have some pretty nifty graphics and pictures.

My Grandmother’s Dressing

This post follows the one describing my Grandmother’s biscuit recipe, but here, I’m going to go a little into the history of cooking. I have done extensive research into cooking, specializing in 18th and early 19th century American and German cooking in my museum work. I have edited a book on translated German recipes, cooked whole meals over an open hearth fire, and baked in large beehive ovens. The more I have cooked using 18th century recipes, and learned about cooking before the use of baking powder and electric ovens, the more I see the connections between recipes we use today and those common in the 1700s. Many dishes served at Thanksgiving are modern versions of common ones from that time period. One of the most common was bread puddings, which is what a stuffing or dressing began as. When we hear that ‘bread was a staple’ in the past, we often think of people eating a lot of bread slices or rolls, since that is how we eat it. But often, bread would be used in a different form once it began to dry out. One of the most common was to grate it up (or tear or cut it apart) and soak it in liquid, adding other things as the occasion dictated, and then cooking it as a new dish. These were the bread puddings. One of the most common ways to cook them before 1800 or so was to boil them, but in the 19th century it became more common to bake them. These bread puddings could be sweet or savory, have fruit or meat, and might be solid or easily broken apart. There were all different kinds, and they were a very common addition to the table. It is a really good way to use stale bread! So with this history in mind, I introduce you to my family’s version of Thanksgiving dressing, which is truly an old-school bread pudding, using all the leftover breads that might be hanging around the kitchen. This dressing will be a solid, baked dressing. It is cut into squares for serving, and gets a generous topping of gravy. But it is very typical of a 19th century savory baked bread pudding, and it’s a favorite for us.

10-12 biscuits 
1 pan of cornbread (equal amount to the biscuits)
3 cups Pepperidge Farm Herbed Stuffing
    (you can use stale bread crumbs instead)
1 medium to large onion, minced or chopped small
1 cup celery, chopped small
2+ cups cooked turkey or chicken, cubed or shredded
2-3 Tbsp ground sage
~1 tsp salt (you can use less or more to your taste), pepper to taste
1/2 stick of butter, melted
3-4 eggs, well beaten (3 jumbo is fine)
2 quarts chicken broth
(you can make this vegetarian;
    leave out the meat, and use vegetable broth instead)

[One thing about the biscuits and cornbread. I recommend my Grandmother’s biscuits, but I have used Jiffy Biscuit mix to make these as well. As for the cornbread, you are welcome to use whatever cornmeal you want, but I do not recommend putting flour in it, and do not put any sugar in the cornbread. The texture of cornbread with flour is too cake-like for this dressing (if you haven’t made it this way, just look up traditional or southern cornbread, it should have only self-rising cornmeal, egg, buttermilk or milk, and butter in it). The point of having the cornbread is its grainy texture. Don’t worry if it isn’t what you eat normally; you will be mixing it into the dressing anyway, which will have plenty of flour from the biscuits and bread!]


The recipe above makes a lot of dressing, my Grandmother cooked for a large farm family! You are more than welcome to make half this recipe, and you will still have a lot. I use a two gallon pot to mix this in, so I don’t have to be careful about stirring. (However, this does freeze very well. Just mix it up, put the uncooked mix into an aluminum pan, cover tightly and freeze. It can be cooked the same as described after defrosting overnight.) Heat the oven to 425 degrees. First, all the breads need to be stale; it should be 2 days old before making this dressing. The stale biscuits and cornbread will crumble easily, but fresh just tears in big chunks. Stale bread also soaks up the liquid better. You need to crumble the biscuits and cornbread into small bits. The cornbread will do this easily, the biscuits you might need to rub a little to get smaller pieces. Once that is done, add the stuffing mix or stale bread crumbs (my grandmother would have used the stale bread crumbs, but the family started using the stuffing mix as a shortcut, as stale bread was harder to have available). Mix all well, then start adding the next 3 ingredients. The easiest is to add the chicken and stir, then the onions and celery and stir. If you want to have a smoother taste and texture, you can sauté the onions (cook in butter or oil until translucent) to soften them. At this point add sage, salt and pepper. You are welcome to add less or more to your taste, but the amount of sage is what we use. It is a strong flavor in this dressing, so feel free to add less if you don’t like it. At the end, add the wet ingredients. You may not need all of the broth, but you want the dressing to be thick and goopy (this is the best word I can come up with; the dressing mixture needs to be very wet, so that it won’t dry out with cooking). Butter a large baking dish (glass works best) and pour in the mixture about 2-3 inches thick. Smooth out the top, and put in the preheated oven. Depending on the size of the baking dish, you will need 40-45 minutes to cook (if it is a small dish, you might only need 35 minutes). You want to see the top and sides brown before you take it out, which is why you wanted to start with a wet mixture. If the mixture isn’t wet enough, it will dry out before getting the browned top and edges. Once you take it out, you can serve it immediately (or it can sit for a while), just cut out serving portions and serve with plenty of gravy. You now have a traditional dressing/bread pudding!

The Unfolding of Language

If you have any interest in language and its origins, this book gives a wonderful study of how something as complicated as language could evolve from basic building blocks. The author uses examples from many different language groups, but you don’t need to be good at learning languages to understand the examples. I love reading about the changes in language, and I usually read those that describe the evolution of English (I am really not very good at other languages). I have read textbooks on the English language, so yes, I am a bit of a linguistics nerd. But this book is one of the better ones for making the changes understandable, without the reader having to understand the terms used in linguistics. It is easy to see that the author, Guy Deutscher, loves the study of language. I highly recommend this book as both an in depth study on language evolution, and also a very fun and interesting book to read.

Blog Navigation

My blog posts will be about a wide range of subjects (this blog is ‘a little about everything). All of them will appear in reverse order on this page, and you are welcome to scroll through. However, you may be interested in only certain subjects. To read those without having to search through them all, you can click on a category heading located at the top of each post, or a tag link found at the bottom of each post. The categories will be subjects such as Gardening, Poetry, Cooking or general Blog Posts. The tags will be sub-categories, such as Seasonal (Gardening), Poetry Author (such as Emily Dickinson), Recipes, and other similar sections. Clicking on those links will give you just the posts from that category or tag. At the beginning this will be a small number for each group, but hopefully it will make navigation easier when there are more listed here.

Poetry – Miniver Cheevy

When I read poetry, I look for something that speaks to me. As someone who has studied history for so long, and made a career in educating the public by wearing the clothing and doing some of the work of the 18th century, this poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson certainly spoke to me. I usually don’t get this sarcastic or ironic about the subject, but I have often been told by people ‘It must have been so much better back then,’ or ‘It was simpler back then.’ As a history professional, I would need to gently tell people that really, it wasn’t that different ‘back then’ than it is today. Each person lives in the time they do, which sounds too simple, but actually means quite a lot. We live in the time we are best adapted to live in, which is when we are born. We wouldn’t do well shifting to a different time, and if we were born in that time period, then we wouldn’t know about this one to compare! The past really wasn’t less complicated to anyone living then than our lives are to us now. And this poem, in a way that I think makes us laugh a little at the character, is telling us just that.

Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
     Grew lean while he assailed the seasons
He wept that he was ever born,
     And he had reasons.

Miniver loved the days of old
     When swords were bright and steeds were prancing;
The vision of a warrior bold
     Would set him dancing.

Miniver sighed for what was not
     And dreamed, and rested from his labours,
He dreamed of Thebes and Camelot,
     And Priam's neighbors.

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
     That made so many a name so fragrant,
He mourned Romance, now on the town,
     And Art, a vagrant.

Miniver loved the Medici,
     Albeit he had never seen one;
He would have sinned incessantly
     Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
     And eyed a khaki suit with loathing;
He missed the medieval grace
     Of iron clothing.

Miniver scorned the gold he sought, 
     But sore annoyed was he without it;
Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
      And thought about it.

Miniver Cheevy, born too late
     Scratched his head and kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
     And kept on drinking.

Edwin Arlington Robinson
1910, The Town down the River

My Grandmother’s Biscuits

I won’t usually post recipes, but for Thanksgiving, I though I would share two family ones. This post will have a follow-up, titled My Grandmother’s Dressing, which is a family tradition. However, you need the biscuit recipe to really make the dressing the best it can be, so I’ll start with this one. This is going to be long, but biscuits are a serious business! A little background – my Grandmother baked biscuits every day for over 40 years. My dad grew up on a farm, and biscuits were the bread everyone ate at mealtimes. These biscuits could also be put in the pocket and taken out to the field for snacking when priming tobacco. I used to watch her make them every time we visited when I was in kid in the ‘70s and ‘80s. The best thing was getting my own ‘hoecake’, which was the last of the biscuit dough in a small iron pan, with divots pushed into it with a knuckle, and baked just for me. The divots let it get a bit more crispy on the top, and I loved it (she also churned butter, and that is the best to eat on a hot biscuit). While I always watched her make biscuits, and sometimes helped, my brother and I didn’t start making them on our own until after she died. We went to our Aunts (Shirleye and June) who still made them, and learned the technique in a couple of lessons. The main thing about making biscuits is getting a feel for the dough as it is mixed. You will just have to do it a few times to understand, but trust me, you probably won’t make them great the first time. Try again, you’ll get better each time.

 The first thing you need to know is that these are not the ‘flaky’ biscuits like out of a can (my Grandmother called those ‘wompum biscuits’, because you womped them against the table to open the can; she thought it was a pretty funny way to make biscuits). These are tender biscuits, as I believe people call them today in the cooking world. I call them the best biscuits, and anything else is just settling. The other big thing about these is how the fat is added to the mixture. I have never seen this technique described anywhere else, so I have no idea how it started, though there are very likely other home cooks who have family recipes like this. The fat (in this case shortening, which is important, don’t change it to butter) is put into the buttermilk and broken up, then the fat and liquid is worked into the flour. I know, everyone says to cut the fat into the flour first, then mix in the liquid, but trust me, this works. I make these regularly, and it is just fine. Now, one thing I need to start with – I don’t actually measure anything but the flour, so while I have put in these measurements for fat and liquid, there is some room to adjust the buttermilk to get the right texture (especially if you use whole buttermilk, which is thicker). Most likely you will need to make a few batches to get a feel for the way you need to mix the dough up, especially if you haven’t made biscuits before. Another thing you will need to have is White Lilly Self-Rising Flour. You won’t be able to use another flour, sorry. If that isn’t available, then I suggest buying Jiffy Biscuit mix and using buttermilk to make them up instead (if you don’t want to do all this work, that is a decent substitute). Sorry for this if you live outside the South, but there really isn’t any substitute. White Lilly Flour is made from soft winter wheat only (the kind that grows well in the South), which makes up good biscuits. (Hard wheat is better for bread and is grown in the Midwest and Plains states, it’s in all other brands of flour.) If you are absolutely determined to try this without White Lilly, then try to find pastry flour, it may work. I have never tried it, but if you want to give it a shot go right ahead, I just can’t vouch for the result.

2 cups White Lilly Self-Rising flour, sifted
1/4 cup Crisco, or shortening brand of your choice
~3/4 cup buttermilk, whole or low-fat (you might need a little more)
2 Tbsp melted butter
(You are welcome to half this recipe for about 6 biscuits)

Preheat the oven to 450°. You must sift the flour. You can put the flour into a hand-held sieve, then use a spoon to sift it into a wide or deep bowl, but you can’t skip this step. When I first started, I didn’t do this, because I thought it was just an extra step my Grandmother did that wasn’t necessary anymore. Boy, was I wrong. Sift that flour, it will make all the difference in the texture of the biscuits. You can also sift a little extra for rolling out at this point, about 1/3 cup should do it, just make sure to take out that amount before adding the buttermilk. At this point, make a well in the flour and pour in your cold buttermilk. I usually wait to take the buttermilk out of the fridge just before doing this, but do make sure it is cold. Now the weird part. You need to break up the Crisco, or the shortening brand of your choice (or lard, if you want to get really old-fashioned, my Grandmother was using Crisco by the time I was born).  I do this by taking a table knife and just putting bits of fat in with the tip until it is all in the buttermilk. You can also put it in as a lump, then break it up in the buttermilk with your fingers, but you need to move quickly because you don’t want to warm up the milk and shortening with your hands as you work it (my Grandmother did it this way, but she definitely knew what she was doing). If you are doing this the first time, I recommend the knife, as you can mix it quicker into the buttermilk in small pieces.


Once the shortening is in those small pieces, start pulling in the flour from your well walls, and mix it all together. You are going to need to use your hands for this and get messy, so have a couple of paper towels to clean up with; trying to use a spoon or fork to mix up the dough won’t work (it beats the dough too much, your hand is gentler). The trick here is not to overwork the dough. You need to move fairly quickly with mixing in the liquid and flour together. Once it is mixed, sprinkle some of the sifted flour from the reserved 1/3 cup onto your board, and spoon out the dough on top. Your dough should be a bit wet and fluffy (you’ll need to wipe your hands off after mixing it together), because you are going to be adding a little bit more flour to it as you pat or roll it out. When the dough is on the board, sprinkle a little bit of flour on top of the dough, then fold it over a couple of times, sprinkling just a bit of flour in as you work. Again, don’t over do this, but you need to work it a couple of times for it to cut out.  When it is smooth on top, either roll or pat it into about 3/4 to 1 inch thick and use a biscuit cutter to cut out (it depends on how thick you want your finished biscuit; the first time, you can make some thicker and some thinner, then decide which you like best). Keep the cutouts close together on the dough. At this point, I will let you know a secret. The best biscuits are baked in an iron pan. If you have one, use it. Otherwise, spread a little shortening on a dark baking sheet (try not to use nonstick, it really isn’t any good for these), and place the biscuits on it, not touching, and with a little space around each (the biscuits in the picture above were made for dressing, when it doesn’t matter if they touch; you are welcome to do it that way if you prefer). You can gently roll up the excess dough and cut again, but don’t do this more than one time, using any excess dough as a hoecake or free form biscuit, because overworking will make the dough tough. Use a pastry brush to dab melted butter on the top of each biscuit, then put in the oven for about 15-18 minutes (this will vary with your oven so watch them). When the tops are golden, take the biscuits out, and eat immediately with anything you want. Yum!

Poetry-Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson is my favorite poet to read. In general, I like to read individual poems from poetry collections; while I often like a number of poems by the same author, I usually don’t read a book of one poet. Emily Dickinson is different for me. I have several books of her poems and I enjoy reading through them, though I do have my favorites! In my opinion, if you want a poet who knew how to take a few words to convey a lot of emotion and context it’s hard to beat Dickinson. If you read some of her poetry in school and liked it, I would suggest looking through several publications. The first publishers of her work in the late 19th century edited her original manuscripts after her death, changing some words to ‘fit’ better, taking out odd punctuation, etc. There are more modern publications that have removed those changes, and adhere better to the original format Dickinson used in her writing (if you are interested in different versions, check out this link to Harvard University Press that covers all of them) . Personally, I like the later published versions, though if you are used to the smoothed out publication, it might seem a little choppy to read the manuscript format. There is a lot more punctuation in the form of dashes to separate words, and seemingly random capitalization. While it looks a little strange at first, if you read through it, you begin to get a different rhythm to the verse with these changes, and it can make a big difference to the meaning. There is a website that shows a number of the original manuscripts of Dickinson’s writings if you are interested, called the Emily Dickinson Archive. An example of this change can be seen in poem number 441 (Dickinson never put titles on her poems). The original published version is first, and my transcription from the original written version (at the Emily Dickinson Archive, manuscript owned by Harvard University Press) is below. You can easily see some of the changes made, and even why a publisher would decide to smooth out the form. However, I like reading the second version, because it takes on a different cadence and I feel I understand the meaning better.

This is my letter to the world
   That never wrote to me, -
The simple news that Nature told,
   With tender majesty.

Her message is committed
   To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
   Judge tenderly of me!
This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me -
The simple News that Nature told -
With tender Majesty -

Her Message is Committed
To Hands I Cannot see -
For love of Her - Sweet - Countrymen -
Judge tenderly - of Me

Emily Dickinson Archives
Houghton Library, Harvard University

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