Thinking Inside the Icebox

From the ingenuity of Thomas Moore, the icebox first appeared on the American scene in 1802. Like many new inventions, its production was limited and thus affordable only to the rich. However, by 1884, increased capacity for ice, improved insulation and mass production led to an icebox in most homes.

Constructed of wood, the icebox looked like an attractive piece of box-sized cabinetry with several doors and a large drawer on top which served to house the ice. The shelves were made of zinc or tin as were the walls which were insulated with a material such as straw, sawdust, cork, or even seaweed. A pan at the bottom caught the water as the ice melted, requiring someone to empty the pan before it overflowed on the floor. In more expensive models, a spigot allowed for easy draining of accumulated water.

Ice needed to be replenished every two to three days and was available from the local ice house. Some folks picked up the solid block of ice and transported it home themselves. Others availed themselves of the delivery service, whereby a driver arrived with his horse-drawn carriage, pulled a block of ice from the back of the truck with a two-pronged hook, hauled it inside the customer’s house and lifted it into the ice drawer of the icebox.

An exciting acquisition to anyone’s kitchen, the icebox offered conveniences not enjoyed by previous generations:

1. It eliminated the need to trek out to an underground pit or brook house, or stoop at a hole dug in the cellar floor, which were common ways to keep foods cool in earlier time periods.
2. Daily trips to the local market to purchase fresh food were replaced by excursions only a few times a week.
3. Time and energy expended to preserve foods by smoking, salting or canning became more a cook’s choice than a necessity.

As thrilling as the icebox might have been, not everything about it was cause for celebration. It held odors. Whether a naturally odoriferous food or something that spoiled, the smell would not go away. And one food could take on the “aroma” of another. For example, the butter could smell like fish.

However, the benefits of being able to keep food fresh and fingertip close were huge, evidenced by the industry’s attention to continuing improvements of the appliance.

As writers, why should we care about old iceboxes?

Writers of historical fiction can utilize an icebox to add detail to a scene or enhance their stories:

(1) A character grabs a chunk of cheese to add to Sunday dinner and notices that the ice is getting low; (2) Perhaps a grandmother shares an “I remember when…” memory, giving a peek into long-ago day-to-day living; or (3) An overflowing water pan might reveal a character’s short-temperedness, or a nasty smell might add tension as the cooks sort out how to handle it.

Romance Writers, can you picture the growing attraction between the oldest daughter and the ice truck driver? Or perhaps the handsome town bachelor owns the ice house.

Contemporary writers are not left out of the possible uses of “iceboxes” in their works. A key character might be an antiques collector, or perhaps the CEO of an appliance store chain, having descended from a family involved in marketing early iceboxes. Mystery Writer, can you envision an unidentified body being discovered huddled against an ancient icebox in your heroine’s antique shop?

Whew! Who would have thought an icebox could reveal character traits, stimulate career choices or spark plot twists?

Well…probably not Mr. Moore.

But for writers? There are oodles of cool ideas inside the icebox.

Jeannine Brummett lives in South Carolina with her husband of nineteen years, Don, who shares his three adult sons and three grandchildren with her. Reading is big on her list of things to do, but she also thrives on TV crime dramas, NBA basketball, and marvels at the critters and fowl life that live at the pond behind their house. She loves to sing praise songs, attend Bible Study, and help at a local food pantry.