Mrs. Corbin's Biscuits Supreme

Philip the Historian has done it again!

Yesterday, he shared a newspaper article featuring Mrs. Ruby Corbin with me. In case you may have forgotten, Mrs. Corbin ran the Traveler's Inn & Coffee Shop from 1946 to 1954.

Needless to say, I was very excited when he emailed the article to me! Here's the article, but don't try to read the small print because I transcribed it for you below.

 Favorite Recipes of Valley Residents

              -A feature by Cornelia James Dorgan

 Although modern methods of food preparation and freezing have made Milady's task an easy matter, favorite recipes have been for generations a treasured asset of the distaff side. Whether the recipe is old or new, plain or fancy, whether used once a week or for special occasions only, it is very likely that recipes will continue to be handed down from mother to daughter, from friends to friend. Nowhere has this custom been more prized than here in the Shenandoah Valley. 

"I like to study", says Ruby White (Mrs. L.S.) Corbin of [our town] and her interests cover a wide range of subjects, only one of which is cooking. The biscuit recipe she gives as her favorite is one she has given to many friends upon request and was a great favorite with the late Mr. Corbin and in her own family.

One of only two  women at [our town] Manufacturing company skilled in her particular job of industrial mending, Mrs. Corbin says "believe it or not, one of my hobbies is sewing!"

She also is interested in writing and horticulture. She is a member of the Luconacoa Garden Club of which she currently is treasurer, a member of the Reformation Lutheran church and the Lutheran Church women, and "likes to baby sit with my little niece and nephew, Teresa and Bruce Foltz, who live nearby."

Until they returned to [our town] in 1945, the Corbins lived for more than nine years in Washington, D.C., and during the war she was a Civil Service clerk in the office for Emergency Management, Printing and Duplicating, and also worked at Government Services, Inc., for the Navy department at the Bureau of Ships and Docks.

One of the memories Mrs. Corbin treasures the most is standing right at the foot of the White House Portico steps when President and Mrs. Roosevelt made their first public appearance after he was re-elected for the history-making third term. A newspaper picture taken of the event includes her in it and is one of her treasured keepsakes.

Before the war, Mrs. Corbin worked as cashier for Warner Brothers theaters. After she and Mr. Corbin returned to [our town], she put her inherited skill at cooking to work and operate a Coffee Shop and Tourist Home for a number of years.

She was for a while desk clerk at [our town] lodge, and meeting the public in the various positions she has had, is high on her list of interesting things she has thoroughly enjoyed.

About her biscuit recipe, she says, "These are appropriate for afternoon tea or as a base for creamed foods. Makes about sixteen medium-sized biscuits. Delicious with ham or pot-pie!"

What an interesting life she led! I find myself fascinated. I want to learn more!

Here's her recipe:

I held in my hand (on the screen of my laptop, that is) a recipe used by Mrs. Corbin. Victory! Naturally, there was only one thing for me to do... Make some biscuits!

I mean, how could I possibly pass up supreme biscuits?

So I sifted a little flour and cut in a little shortening...

Did a little light mixing...

...and came away with some tasty biscuit dough.

I like to eat dough. It grosses my mom out.

It was pretty tasty baked, too. A little crumbly. I'd give them a solid B+. I mean, have you tried smitten kitchen's cream biscuits? Melt in your mouth amazing! And don't get me started on my mom's biscuits. She's a pastry chef. I have spoiled taste buds.

But the fact that these could have been served alongside ham or pot pie in the Coffee Shop 60 years ago? It makes my heart go pitter pat.

I have to say that the Ruby Corbin biscuit experiment was a success. And it made me extremely happy. It's the little things. Plus, Stephen & I got to have biscuits'n gravy for breakfast. Mmm mmm.

If you pay attention to the details in that newspaper photo, you can see that Ruby is standing in a kitchen. Philip the Historian wanted to know if the kitchen in the photo was the same as the original kitchen in my house. After closer inspection, I decided that they were definitely too separate kitchens.

The knobs, handles, & countertops don't match up. However, it is possible that the picture could have been taken in the kitchen of the Coffee Shop, but I have no way of knowing that unless I can find an old picture of it. I doubt it, though, because I think the Coffee Shop kitchen was lined with shelving instead of cabinets. It's just hard to say for sure because that part of the Sandwich Shoppe was badly water damaged.

Then again, the Corbin's sold the property in March of 1960 and Philip the Historian thinks that the newspaper article was published sometime after that, so it's probably Mrs. Corbin's home kitchen. Who knows. This is all just speculation.

The best part about this whole biscuit experience though, is that I now have a picture of Ruby Corbin! EEEE! Isn't she classy looking? Now I have to try and hunt down the picture of Ruby standing right at the foot of the White House Portico steps when President and Mrs. Roosevelt made their first public appearance after he was re-elected for the history-making third term.

Ladder Safety Poster Girl

If you read my blog, you know I like to do home renovations while wearing flip flops. Subsequently, you know that I'm not the best role model when it comes to renovation safety. Keeping this in mind, let's discuss ladder safety, or rather, how NOT  to stand on a ladder.

For example, if you are known for your innate clumsiness, you probably shouldn't stand on a ladder like this:

I know, I know. I'm flying right in the face of common sense. And clearly marked warnings.

What's wrong with this picture??

1. I'm wearing flip flops on a ladder. Dumb, dumb, double dumb. But I would probably wear flip flops while climbing Mt. Everest in the middle of a blizzard if you'd let me.

2. I'm standing on the very top of the ladder. The part that specifically states:

Do I know better? Yes.

Do I still do it when I need to reach that extra foot and don't want to pull out the 8 ft ladder for that one thing? Absolutely.

Have I ever fallen or had issues doing this? No.

Will I probably fall off of a ladder one day in the future?? Most likely.

Will anyone, including myself, feel bad for me when I do? NOPE. They might even say, "I told you so!" and I wouldn't blame them.

So, what about you? Do you follow proper ladder safety protocol?

If so, I'm very proud of you. High five!

"Don't Spend Your Weekend Covered In Drywall Dust"

At present, we are slowly undertaking the annoyingly tedious task of finishing up the drywall in the front half of the sandwich shoppe. To be totally honest, we've taken the last few weeks off from mudding the drywall because we still have to dismantle the temporary bedroom we set up in there for apple picking. The current vacation from drywalling has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I hate mudding and sanding drywall. And you have to do it three times before you can paint. THREE!!

The worst part is the sanding. It's so awful that even Theresa hates it. The super fine dust gets everywhere!

GRRR. Even when you put up plastic barriers, it manages to weasel its way into the rest of the house.

Yup. That look just about sums up my feelings on the subject. Fortunately, good company and a little oldies radio can go a long way towards making drywall installation resemble something close to fun. Especially when the oldies radio station plays commercials which directly pertain to your situation...

There we were, Stephen, Theresa, and I, installing and mudding drywall together around midnight on a Saturday, when we hear the following advertisement over the radio:

"Are you remodeling your home? Do you spend hours putting up new walls? NO MORE! Hire us and we'll have it done for you in no time! DON'T SPEND YOUR WEEKEND COVERED IN DRYWALL DUST!!!" *catchy jingle*

At this point, I stopped, looked down at my legs, and started to grin...

Then I looked over at Theresa and started cracking up...

...because we were all covered from head to toe in drywall dust.

And there was nothing we could do about it. Good times.

Don't you love it when the radio starts speaking directly to you late at night? I would say that I probably hallucinated the whole thing, except that I have witnesses. Right guys? Guys?? GUYS??

Things We've Learned About the Sandwich Shoppe Through Demo

After much demolition and excavation, we've learned a few things about the front half (the dining area) of the Sandwich Shoppe that we ddin't really know before. Destroying stuff works well that way. Just ask the dude who slices stuff in half on the History Channel.

credit

Ok. I think he's nuts, but I am seriously jealous of his power tools. And I will admit that I like to take things apart. I just think there are easier ways to learn than slicing everything within arms reach.

So... What have we learned?

We now know that the walls of the Sandwich Shoppe were composed of plaster wall board called Beaver Bestwall, a brand patented in 1921 by the Beaver Products company. The company, makers of the "original gypsum wall board" was bought by Certainteed in 1928 (TIME Magazine 1937).

We know that those walls were painted a lovely pale, minty green - very fashionable in the 1940s. We also know that the ceilings were white, but that the crown moulding was painted the same pale, minty green. They left the original siding of the house open to the dining area, rather than covering it with more wall board. We know they used hot water baseboard heating.

We know they had some seriously fashionable and super cute brass fluorescent lighting. We know that the lighting was hooked up by knob and tube wiring.

We know they bothered to insulate the front dining area with asbestos free vermiculite, but not the back kitchen area. We know that they installed super wide 6 inch baseboards (which I love!) in both black...

And dark gray...

And finally, we know that the floor was brown with a black border.

And was made of some kind of fibrous laminate over concrete.

And we know that Caroline walks around barefoot in the Sandwich Shoppe and seriously needs to remove her beach pedicure from the end of July.

What have you learned about your home?

The Night We Hugged Fluffy Stuff & Posted Snazzy Signage

The weekend before last, we put up insulation out in the Sandwich Shoppe until about 2:30am. It wasn't fun, but it needed to happen.

This about sums up how we felt by the time we were done:

Installing insulation is a really simple task. Unroll the package of insulation. Hug. Cut to size if necessary. Staple in place between studs. Repeat.

And it may look nice and fluffy, but hugging it makes my skin crawl. I had to take another one of those brillo pad filled showers by the time we were done. Then hit the St. Ives.

In general, I recommend that you refrain from hugging insulation.  There are support groups for people like us. I know it will be hard for us, but with some coaching and a little will power, we can do it together. Our skin will thank us in the end.

Itchiness and irritation aside, it was a nice sight to wake up to the next morning. Especially with the sunlight streaming in.

I was a little punchy, but it made me so happy to see all the progress and know that we were one step closer to having a livable room.

Hey. Everyone expresses happiness in their own special way. Emphasis on "special."

Somewhere between all of the insulation installation, I may have gone a little crazy and made some signs for the sandwich shoppe. Just a few.

I pulled out all of my teaching supplies, printed off some powerpoint slides, sat down on the living room floor, and went to town with the scissors and tape.

How else am I going to find random strangers who have lived in town all of their lives and visited the sandwich/tea/ice cream shoppe as children??

Here's a close up, so you can actually read it:

After making the above signs, my darling husband came in and looked at me like I had 3 heads and a tail.

"What are you doing?"

"Makin' signs for the sandwich shoppe. I really want to find that lady who talked to mom at the yard crawl about getting ice cream here when she was a kid."

"You'll never get people that way. Those signs are too hip. Old people will never look at them. They are too cool."

"They are not! They are bright and eye catching. You're ridiculous."

"I'm not the one sitting on the floor with a pair of scissors."

"Yeah. Well. You're a pair of scissors!" (My cunning and wit astound even me.)

"You need to offer more of an incentive. You should offer cookies."

"Oh my gosh, that's great! I'll add that to the signs." (Pulls out a Sharpie to write on signs.)

"Go print one off so it matches the others."

"Yeah. That would probably be better."

"What would you do without me. I'm a genius!"

"Dwell in darkness, I'm sure... And I wouldn't say 'genius'..." (add plenty of sarcasm to this line)

And so, the cookie sign was born:

My father-in-law says that it sounds like a computer joke.

And for good measure, I pulled out my teacher chalk and added a little message on the sidewalk out front.

Just in case no one sees my snazzy signage. You can't go wrong with sidewalk chalk advertisment. They used to do it all the time on campus in college. It works like a charm.

Stephen says they are a bit tacky. I'm going with snazzy. If you take my side and call them "snazzy", I'll give you a cookie. And perhaps some milk ;).

P.S. We've already had someone stop by who used to get ice cream in the sandwich shoppe as a child. He says that he has a picture somewhere and will dig it out for me. I'll let you know if he finds it!

Shocking News: Local Girl Electrocutes Self

Zing!!

Consequently, her hair looks even more awesomely frizzy than before! Or is that because of the ridiculous humidity we're experiencing at the end of September?!?!?

Smokin'!

Who knows. It's a mystery that keeps me up at night. The mystery of the electric-humidifying hair frizz. Science might eventually explain what it all means using petri dishes, satellites, extraterrestrials, and such.


We can only hope.


In other electricity related news (and even more exciting than hair frizz):


The Sandwich Shoppe has power!  Phenomenal cosmic power!! Itty bitty living space. (Name that movie.)

How could that possibly be more exciting than hair frizz??

This is a sight that (I assume) no on has seen in decades. Bright light streaming through our brand new windows. Isn't it purrrty? (Please ignore ancient computer monitors. They were randomly stored in the Sandwich Shoppe and need to be recycled.)

Now we'll have real light to work by at 2:30 am! Yahoo! No more sad single spot light to work by. We've got POW-ER! (I am serious about the 2:30 am thing. Our neighbors hate us. They may smile and wave, but secretly they are plotting our demise. I can tell.)


We actually finished wiring the whole front area last Saturday. I was roped in to run wires.

And somehow got tricked into learning how to wire an electrical outlet by my husband. He's tricksy. Don't let that smile fool you. It's a "Gosh I hope I don't end up burning down the house and I can't believe I got talked into this, I'll kill him!" kind of smile.

And before you ask, the power is totally shut down. I swear.

When we first started working on the house, I seem to recall saying something along the lines of, "I'm game. I'll do pretty much anything but plumbing and electrical."


Ha. Yeah. Sure. Right. Look where I am today.


I made sure my husband understood (several times over) that I will not be held responsible when the house burns down. I will place the blame firmly in his hands. I'm good at that. "I didn't do it!" is my favorite phrase.

This is how I really feel about being responsible for wiring the Sandwich Shoppe. That, my friends, is the face of fear. Or indigestion. You'll never know.


All kidding and electricity related fears aside, Stephen double checked my work and the house is probably safe. Probably. The sockets work without shooting sparks everywhere. That's a good sign. Right??


I would explain how to wire a socket to you, if I understood any of it. You're better off googling!


While I wired the electrical sockets...

Stephen installed and wired the recessed lighting. We decided to go this route since we're putting in new ceilings and it's a long and narrow room (20ft X 8ft). Awkward for central lighting.

Theresa screwed in the bulbs and Stephen flipped the power back on. VICTORY!!!

Then we went around nailing all of the electrical outlets in place. That's when I temporarily forgot about the whole live wire aspect of this particular renovation adventure and grabbed the box wrong. Because I'm an IDIOT. I got a nice little shock. Just a little one. Or 3. Very buzz like. I'd call it a bazinga.


Idiot Logic Tip #1 - Don't grab an outlet box with your thumb overlapping over the side of the plug.


Idiot Logic Tip #2 - Turn the power back off to nail the boxes in place, even if all of the wires were already inside the boxes. Seriously.


Idiot Logic Tip #3 - Don't ever emulate Caroline. Ever. Disregard everything she says. She's clearly a bad renovation safety role model. (Just consider her usual demo and reno attire of dresses and flip flops and I'm sure you will agree!)


Whatevs. Life is good. Especially when it has spark. (No really. Turn the power off.)


***


And finally, I would like to close with the following scrap of wood that I found lying on the floor the other day:

I love it. Do you know why?? BECAUSE Theresa IS awesomely cool.


She's my sister-in-law. She's my friend. She gives up her weekends to hang with us. She helps us work on our house. She plays with her nephew. She goofs around.


Oh. And one other thing. She strangles my husband for me whenever he needs it.

For this alone, I will love her forever.


Then I flipped the scrap wood over and discovered this:

In case you can't make it out, it says, "Stephen smells like roses that have been pooped on."


This is a common phrase in our family. You should know that Stephen and Theresa have some really great sibling rivalry going and they enjoy insulting each other. Lovingly.


 It all started one day when Theresa said, "Stephen smells!"


Stephen responded, "Like roses!!"


And Theresa said, "THAT HAVE BEEN POOPED ON!!"
(I think it's a Conan O'Brien reference.)


OOOoooOOOH! You just got served. Bazinga!! (Sorry. I watched Big Bang tonight. It's on the brain.)


It may be odd, but it's a fitting phrase... Here's a picture to illustrate what I mean:

Yup. That's my family.

Can't you feel the love emanating from that picture??

I can. Or maybe those are fumes?


***

It's good to have power. Have a great weekend everyone!