By Hollis Crummey
As we reach the fall of the year and approach Thanksgiving, I am reminded of one popular fall social event enjoyed by the country folks of south Georgia. Cane grindings, as we called them, was the culmination of the sugarcane harvest. Not all farmers grew sugar cane. My folks never did in my lifetime. But various families over the county grew sugarcane and some purchased patches from neighbors who chose to sell a crop rather than cook it out into syrup. A cane harvest involved hard labor; the fodder must be stripped from the stalk, the stalks had to be cut down, and hauled up to the cane mill where they were ground into juice. Hence the term “cane grinding”. The juice then had to be transferred over to the boiler, which was under the boiler shelter. Then cooked at just the right temperature for just the right amount of time in order to turn it into the delicacy called “Cane Syrup”. The boiler was fired with wood, so keeping the juice at a desired temperature was an art in it’s self. Then the finished product was cooled down to a point that it could be bottled. Many times it was bottled in used bottles and used fruit jars that had been gathered up for this purpose. Of course they were cleaned and sterilized in a boiler of hot water.
A different buck
Cane syrup is not to be confused with the syrup made from sorghum in the northern part of Georgia. There is little comparison, other than they’re both dark and sticky. It depends on who you ask in what part of the state, but the cane syrup is so much better than what those mountaineers make. And it wasn’t used on pancakes either, we used maple syrup for that. We sopped cane syrup with a homemade buttermilk biscuit.
You may wonder were the social part comes in. Well, the farmers usually put on a cooking of juice late in the day or early evening. This was when the neighbors came over to enjoy the “Cane Grinding”. The older folks sat around under the boiler shelter to watch the cook, catch up on what’s happening in the neighborhood, and enjoy the warmth of the boiler. The kids always had a fire outside in an open part of the yard or, sometimes, in the lane. We played games such as penny prom and hide and go seek. Sometimes we just pulled up a log chunk that was provided for seating and enjoyed each others company.
Now, you may or may not have heard of the “candy pullins”. Well, this was a much bigger social affair than just a plain ol’ cane grinding. Usually at the last cooking, the farmer would leave a small amount of syrup in the boiler, add some baking soda, a dash of salt, and I don’t know what else, and cook it until it began to turn into a soft candy. This concoction was taken up in a hurry and placed onto wax paper. Then, those that chose to partake would get a handful and start pulling it and looping it over as you may have seen the taffy machines do it. Eventually, the “syrup candy” would be hardened to a point that you could actually cut it into joints such as saltwater taffy is marketed today.
Other enjoyable goodies offered at cane grindings were cane juice, dog candy, and sometimes cane buck. The juice was dipped from the barrel at the mill, always tasty, and cold due to the outside temperature. The dog candy was acquired by taking a piece of green cane stalk and raking it around the edge of the syrup while it was cooking. This had to be done with great care as not to get burned. The cane buck was made from skimming of the syrup while it was cooking and placed in a separate bucket for the purpose of letting it do a little “working off” prior to being served.
One of my last, and most memorable cane grindings, was at a neighboring cousins house about fifty-two years ago. We’ll call him George. My Dad was out of town working, so my Mother took my baby sister and me this particular time. It was a weeknight and there would be no syrup candy tonight, as Candy Pullins were usually on the weekends. While sitting around the fire in the lane with the other young people George’s son asked if I would like a glass of buck. Not to be out-done, I said “of course“. He went in the house and came out with ice tea glasses. I did not complain about the size of the glasses. We sneaked around behind the boiler shelter to find the buck and poured us up a glass. We drank it with haste, as the buck was off limits to us boys.
After a while back out at the fire, discussing what we had killed or hoping to kill during hunting season, I heard “I’ll drink another glass of buck if you will”. Again, not to be out-done I said “of course I’ll have another glass.” Herein lies the mistake. About two o’clock in the morning I was awaken by awful sounds coming from my stomach. Luckily I made it to the bathroom in time as not to vomit in my bed.
The next morning my dear sweet Mother asked if I had been sick during the night. Remember, Daddy wasn’t there or he may have had more questions. I said, “yes mam, I was sick, must have been something I ate”. She had no more questions and I have had no more buck.
You may wonder were the social part comes in. Well, the farmers usually put on a cooking of juice late in the day or early evening. This was when the neighbors came over to enjoy the “Cane Grinding”. The older folks sat around under the boiler shelter to watch the cook, catch up on what’s happening in the neighborhood, and enjoy the warmth of the boiler. The kids always had a fire outside in an open part of the yard or, sometimes, in the lane. We played games such as penny prom and hide and go seek. Sometimes we just pulled up a log chunk that was provided for seating and enjoyed each others company.
Now, you may or may not have heard of the “candy pullins”. Well, this was a much bigger social affair than just a plain ol’ cane grinding. Usually at the last cooking, the farmer would leave a small amount of syrup in the boiler, add some baking soda, a dash of salt, and I don’t know what else, and cook it until it began to turn into a soft candy. This concoction was taken up in a hurry and placed onto wax paper. Then, those that chose to partake would get a handful and start pulling it and looping it over as you may have seen the taffy machines do it. Eventually, the “syrup candy” would be hardened to a point that you could actually cut it into joints such as saltwater taffy is marketed today.
Other enjoyable goodies offered at cane grindings were cane juice, dog candy, and sometimes cane buck. The juice was dipped from the barrel at the mill, always tasty, and cold due to the outside temperature. The dog candy was acquired by taking a piece of green cane stalk and raking it around the edge of the syrup while it was cooking. This had to be done with great care as not to get burned. The cane buck was made from skimming of the syrup while it was cooking and placed in a separate bucket for the purpose of letting it do a little “working off” prior to being served.
One of my last, and most memorable cane grindings, was at a neighboring cousins house about fifty-two years ago. We’ll call him George. My Dad was out of town working, so my Mother took my baby sister and me this particular time. It was a weeknight and there would be no syrup candy tonight, as Candy Pullins were usually on the weekends. While sitting around the fire in the lane with the other young people George’s son asked if I would like a glass of buck. Not to be out-done, I said “of course“. He went in the house and came out with ice tea glasses. I did not complain about the size of the glasses. We sneaked around behind the boiler shelter to find the buck and poured us up a glass. We drank it with haste, as the buck was off limits to us boys.
After a while back out at the fire, discussing what we had killed or hoping to kill during hunting season, I heard “I’ll drink another glass of buck if you will”. Again, not to be out-done I said “of course I’ll have another glass.” Herein lies the mistake. About two o’clock in the morning I was awaken by awful sounds coming from my stomach. Luckily I made it to the bathroom in time as not to vomit in my bed.
The next morning my dear sweet Mother asked if I had been sick during the night. Remember, Daddy wasn’t there or he may have had more questions. I said, “yes mam, I was sick, must have been something I ate”. She had no more questions and I have had no more buck.
Thank you for sharing your memories & putting a smile on my face!