My Grandad’s favorite dessert was buttered white bread torn into bits covered with sorghum molasses. I always watched in great fascination as he devoured this concoction every evening.
Several years ago, I began researching my family’s genealogy, and I came upon a circa 1930 article from my hometown newspaper. This lead me to the background of his family’s connection with the thick, sweet liquid. in the late 1700's, his grandfather, a physician from Kentucky, received sorghum cane seed from’ the Department of agriculture. He crushed the matured stalks in his cider mill eliciting a juice which his slaves then boiled down in a huge black pot. A crude product by today’s standards, my Grandad’s first taste began his great love for sorghum.
During the Depression, Granddad and a farmer friend started a sorghum mill in Bloomington, Indiana, Rarely seen in Southern Indiana, sorghum became a necessity during that poverty-stricken time. In autumn, farmers brought their sorghum cane to Granddad’s mill to be processed and were given in return their fair share of sorghum molasses.According to the newspaper article, Granddad constructed an evaporator similar to those used in boiling down sap for maple syrup. Because sorghum scorches easily when it becomes very thick, my Grandad determined the culprit to be the corrugated pan used in maple syrup production. He crafted a Smooth-bottomed pan in his workshop, and using this homemade device, he found even small amounts of sorghum could be boiled without burning.
The author of the article, Mxs. L. R. Winslow, asked my Grandad how he knew when the sorghum was done. He replied, “oh; I can tell by looking at it.” After dusk, he could tell “by Listening to it when I put my ear down close to the pan. I never use a thermometer.
Although dubious, Mrs. Winslow sampled Granddad’s sorghum and proclaimed it to be “perfect. The mill was dismantled after the Depression, and Granddad went on to other endeavors but remained loyal to his sorghum dessert until the day he died.
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