Hundred-year-old cookbooks are filled with lots of household tips. Some tips stand the test of time better than others. Here’s one that leaves me scratching my head.
Warm some mutton tallow and put on the ink stain; place in hot sun or over the hot register for half an hour. Apply soap and rub on washboard with warm water. If white material, put in the boiler; if colored, apply the tallow, etc., until stain disappears.
Order of the Easter Star Relief Fund Cookbook (Michigan Grand Chapter, 1923)
Where do I find mutton tallow? And, for that matter, where do I find a washboard? And, I don’t have a boiler. (What is a boiler?)
I could have done with this earlier this week. Problem: (1) the stain was biro ink (2) I’m fresh out of mutton tallow 😉
Oh dear – I hope that you were able to come up with an alternative way to get the ink out.
Don’t worry. Modern science came to my rescue.
My mother and grandmother had a boiler and a wash board that was before washing machines I remember being so chuffed when I was allowed to use the wash board the boiler however was out of bounds though because as the name suggests it was full of boiling water and the clothes were agitated with the boiling stick but I do remember how white my mothers nappies were she was really proud of them there is nothing nicer than seeing a row of white nappies on the washing line…Of course now its all Pampers etc which cause havoc when they go to landfill so not such a good invention after all…
Those were the good old days when people took pride in how white their nappies were (though it sounds like a lot of hard work – that was maybe even a little dangerous). Times sure have changed.
Looking back it was hard work and yes health and safety now would have a hissy fit-chuckle
It was a different era when we were young – though, looking back through rose-colored lens, I have warm of all the hard work.
My mother had a wringer washing machine and a clothesline until I was about 12 when she got her washer and dryer. I remember seeing a washboard, but I don’t remember anyone actually using it!
As for mutton tallow, you’re on your own!
No mutton tallow?? 🙂
Oh, I definitely keep a jar of mutton tallow in the laundry room. You never know when you might get ink on your good white shirt! I guess they did not use spray net in 1923? It seems to me that you would then have a greasy spot on the item–how did they suggest you get that out? Oil stains are my worst enemy.
Maybe the question is – Which is worse? . . . an ink stain or an oil stain?
For me, oil stains. I get them cooking, even while wearing an apron. Ink stain? Not in years!
the tallow was to solubilize the binders in the ink, and then you had to put the item in boiling water to get rid of the tallow
Interesting – I learned something new.
Tallow is fat. My mother used to make candles for us & suet for the birds. Wonder why this tip specifically needs fat from a sheep? You would think any fat would do ; )
I wondered the same thing. Maybe the author of the tip lived on a sheep farm.
Not a drop!
Hehe! To remove oil and fat stains – you pour boiling water through the fabric. I imagine that’s what the boiler was for! Now how fat removes ink – that is a mystery but it would depend on the composition of the ink… is it from a mineral source or organic??
I never thought about how ink might have different compositions – though I guess, that printed documents sometimes say “printed using soy ink.”
I’m having a reading catch-up day and thoroughly enjoyed this post. This is a strange and mysterious post. Historically, I’m assuming that most inks and paints were made of plants or were some sort of pigment from the earth (like the beautiful ochre cliffs in Provence). So maybe that explains in some way why the fat worked. Also, the hot water is a bit curious as many stains “set” if you use hot water. My mother’s remedy for a number of stains was lemon juice, salt, and sunlight. We had. wringer washer until I was nine. No dryer until after I graduated from college. My mother and father both loved hanging clothes on the line. It confounds me that so many suburbs prohibit clotheslines. It’s stupid. I love the sight of clothes drying.