Kohn Cookies

image

If any department store in Baltimore gave Hutzler’s a run for its money, it was Hochschild’s.“ – Michael J. Lisicky, Baltimore’s Bygone Department Stores: Many Happy Returns

According to Jacques Kelly, “Hochschild’s sold what you needed, not what you aspired to get.” In 1997, the Baltimore Sun columnist reminisced about the bargain basement at Hochschild Kohn’s, with its creaking wooden floors, in-store post office, and shelves of “pots, pans, cabinets full of embroidery thread, inexpensive tablecloths, phonograph records and scissors displays.”

Hochschild Kohn’s may not have had the high-fashion and prestige of Hutzler’s, but shoppers needed lamps, typewriters, pet supplies and fountain pens too.  According to department store historian Michael J. Lisicky, “with a very strong line of basic merchandise, Hochschild’s was seen as ‘the people’s store’.” Hutzler’s had all the glamour, but Hochschild’s was a necessary mainstay.

image

Advertisement, Der Deutsche Correspondent, 1912

Hochschild Kohn’s was the outgrowth of a South Charles Street clothing store founded by the Kohn family in 1862. In 1897, brothers Louis & Benno Kohn pooled resources with friend Max Hochschild to open a “palace” at Howard and Lexington. The store was infamously cramped and confusing, with ad-hoc expansions built as the business empire grew. In 1923, the company announced plans to finally build a bigger space on a city block bounded by Howard, Franklin, Park, and Center Streets. As it was being built, Hochschild sold his stake in the store to retire, although he did maintain an office where he would “sit around and loaf” for many years until passing away at age 101 in 1957. Financial difficulties prevented the larger property from ever being fully completed as planned.

By 1945, the leadership of Hochschild Kohn’s consisted of Treasurer/V.P. Louis B. Kohn II, president Martin B. Kohn, and his wife Rosa. Rosa had been an editor for the New York Times Sunday magazine, and according to the family, her publicity acumen deserves credit for much of the department store’s success and growth during this era. In the 1950s, Hochschild Kohn’s expanded into the growing suburbs to reach markets in such as Anne Arundel County.

image

Hochschild’s Thanksgiving parade, Retro Baltimore

It was the wife Louis B. Kohn, II who contributed this cookie recipe to the Park School Cookbook. Born Frances Josephine Levy in 1916, she married Louis B. Kohn II (grandson of store founder Louis B. Kohn) in 1940. She charitably contributed to many organizations around Baltimore including Goucher College, Baltimore Clayworks, Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, and Planned Parenthood. She passed away in 2012.

In the cookbook, the cookies are entitled “Kohn Cookies.” I am not sure whether that is referring to the family or to something served at the store. Certainly, Hochschild Kohn’s leaves a legacy of recipes behind, having produced at least one “Salad and Dessert Cook Book,” in 1933. That book was actually written by cookbook author Mabel Claire, and released as a promotional item for different stores, including Macy’s. These cookies do not appear in the Macy’s version of the recipe book, at any rate.

It bears infinite repetition that nostalgia for the glamorous era of downtown department stores deserves careful reconsideration. As stated in Baltimore Style Magazine: “in 1960, Hochschild’s served 120 Morgan State student demonstrators in the downtown store restaurant, becoming the first of Baltimore’s department stores to integrate and eventually change their strict policies of not allowing African-Americans to either try on or return clothing.“

image

Afro-American, 1945

The chain went out of business in 1983, just a few years before its rival, Hutzler’s threw in the towel. The store downtown on Lexington & Howard had been abandoned in 1977.

According to Baltimore Style, what many Baltimorean’s remember most about Hochschild Kohn’s was their Thanksgiving parade which made it’s way from the BMA to downtown each year from 1933 to 1966, signaling the start of Christmas Shopping season with a “jovial to some, terrifying to others” mechanized Santa Claus.

Christmastime advertisements boasted “dolls that look like real live children,” ostrich-plumed hats, Parisian ivory toilet accessories, aprons & caps “for the maid,” turkey roasters, and inexpensive fabric, ideal for men’s shirts or modern “women’s mannish waists.” The advertisements promised that “the delicious food, the dainty surroundings and the quiet restfulness” of their sixth floor Tea Room would “send you to your afternoon shopping refreshed and invigorated.”

image

Recipe:

  • 4 eggs
  • .5 Lb grated bitter chocolate
  • 1.5 Cup brown sugar
  • 1.5 Cup sugar
  • 1 Cup flour

Beat sugar and eggs together. Add chocolate and beat well again. Add flour gradually. Drop from teaspoons to well-buttered cookie sheet (they spread quite a lot). Bake in 350° oven for 9 minutes for crisp cookies. 6 minutes for chewy cookies. This makes 100 cookies.

image
image
image
image

Spinach Deluxe, Victoria Frank Albert

Once again I turned to The Park School Cookbook for some low-stress dinner ideas. I’m getting a surprising amount of mileage out of this little book.

The recipe comes from Victoria Frank Albert, who was actually a grand-daughter of the school’s founder, Eli Frank, Sr.

In my decades of living in Baltimore, I’ve noticed the assortment of private schools that serve the city’s well-to-do, with The Park School vaguely distinguished as the “Animal Collective school.”

Eli Frank Sr & Eli Frank Jr, Jewish Museum of Maryland

As it turns out, The Park School was actually founded in response to some controversial decisions from our old racist pal Mayor Preston in regards to the school board. 

I actually have no way of judging the wisdom of Preston’s firing and replacement of school board officials including Eli Frank. It certainly caused a newspaper stir, and many people questioned whether Preston should be courting controversy so soon after his narrow victory. The actual policies and records of the school board officials are largely left out of the news stories.

The end result was, according to The Park School website:

“In March of 1912, Eli Frank Sr., a Commissioner who was fired by Preston; Goucher Professor Hans Froelicher Sr. and General Lawrason Riggs, who both resigned, and a group of 13 men, convened a meeting to discuss the founding of a new school. Knowing that many Jewish parents, seeking to enroll their children in private schools, faced quotas if not outright refusal, the founders created Park as the first non-sectarian independent school in Baltimore. The school embraced progressivism and became a national leader in the Progressive Education movement.”

The school opened that September in its original location on Auchentoroly Terrace across from Druid Hill Park.

The Park School on Auchentoroly Terrace, parkschool.net

The curriculum took advantage of the location with outdoor instruction – in 1921 they even had a shoemaker design a shoe for active children in the local climate, the “Park School Shoe.”

In 1954, the year Victoria Frank graduated, the school began to accept African American pupils. (They were one of the first private schools in the region to do so, for whatever that is worth.) In the 1960s and 70s, they welcomed lecturers and performers who educated the student population on poverty and segregation as well as black theater and the arts.

I couldn’t find out as much about Mrs. Albert herself – I believe she may have moved to Connecticut, where her husband, Leonard Albert, is from.

I used fresh spinach for this recipe. I was surprised to find everything including the mushroom soup at the organic store where we refill our detergent, so this turned out to be a rather *upscale* version of this mid-century recipe. Spinach deluxe deluxe.

We’ll be revisiting the Park School Cookbook yet again soon with a recipe from another Jewish family who had a hand in the history of Baltimore.

  • .5 Lb medium noodles
  • 2 lbs spinach, cooked and chopped
  • .75 Cup cream of mushroom soup
  • .25 Cup milk
  • black pepper
  • .5 Teaspoon paprika
  • .5 Lb coursely grated Swiss cheese

Cook spinach. Drain and chop. Cook noodles as directed on package. Rinse in cold water. Mix soup and milk over low heat. Stir in spinach. In a greased baking dish, arrange ½ of noodles, sprinkle with ½ of cheese & seasonings. Spoon over all of spinach mixture. Add remaining noodles, top with remaining cheese. Bake in 400° oven for 15 minutes or until cheese bubbles.

Ham Timbales, Mrs. Carol Montgomery

image

I was recently at the Pratt Library, working on my Maryland recipe database when I hit the milestone of 20,000 recipes. I figured I should make a note of the twenty-thousandth record: “Ham Timbales”, contributed to “Random Ruxton Recipes” (1953) by Mrs. Colin Montgomery.

Timbales, which share etymology with the drum of the same name, appear frequently in cookbooks starting in the late 1890s. Although they tend to be a way to use up leftover meats or vegetables, they can also be served as a fancy hors-d’oeuvre.  French in origin, they were possibly popularized by Charles Ranhofer at Delmonico’s.  His 1894 book “The Epicurean” includes thoughts on timbales as well as a large number of recipes, although, to be fair, the book includes a large number of every kind of recipe.

image

Random Ruxton Recipes, 1953, Church of the Good Shepherd (@ Pratt Library)

Specialty timbale pans exist – the individual portion-ones are slightly deeper than muffin pans – but all kinds of pans have been used to make timbales. Somewhere during the 20th century, timbales faded from favor, popping up occasionally thereafter. A 1991 article in the Chicago Tribune declared: “Timbales Sound Exotic, But Actually They Are Easy To Make And Ideal For Entertaining.” A google search will turn up a handful of modern celebrity-chef takes on timbales.

image

Timbales in “The Epicurean,” 1894 Charles Ranhofer (Delmonicos)

Mrs. Colin Montgomery, born Carol Spencer Worthington in 1920, was a Baltimore-area society woman through-and-through. She “debuted” at the Bachelor’s Cotillion in 1937, and the Sun reported when she left for Bryn Mawr College that year, as well as when she became engaged to Colin Montgomery in 1941. At Goucher College, she was a lacrosse and field hockey star, and she would return to play games over the next several years. In 1945 she ended up working at the Bryn Mawr (secondary) School where she taught English and coached sports. She also acted in local stage plays.

image

Baltimore Sun mentions of Mrs. Colin Montgomery née Carol Worthington, 1937 and 1954

The news stories involving her husband Colin Montgomery were somewhat less glowing. In 1939 he made headlines when he was among a group of men who allegedly attempted to tar and feather a gossip columnist named Count Igor Cassini. The men had apparently taken offense when the columnist wrote of Colin’s parents:

“The reason why a Mrs. Montgomery, from Warrenton [VA], has been invited to the party (for King George and Queen Elizabeth at the British Embassy) is because her brother was a tutor for the British royal family and he requested the invitation for his sister. But Mr. Montgomery, who is a Scotsman, feels very humiliated, for only his wife was invited.” (The Oshkosh Northwestern, 1939)

Yeah…. I have no idea, either. The rich are different from you and me.

Ultimately, Colin’s brother Ian assumed all blame for the incident, citing his motive as trying to find the source of that bit of… juicy gossip(?). As for Cassini, who was largely (physically) unharmed, he went on to do a syndicated column, host a television show, and to be “convicted of being a paid agent of the dictator of the Dominican Republic,” according to Wikipedia.

Mrs. Montgomery died at age 52 in 1972 and Colin in 1975. Count Igor lived to be 86, passing away in 2002. Timbales are still very much with us – within the past few years, there have been online recipes for timbales made with ingredients such as parsnips, seitan, and black quinoa.

image

Recipe:

1.5 Cup cooked ham
.5 Cup tomato soup
1 Cup milk
1 Teaspoon grated onion (I minced a garlic clove & added a little onion powder)
.5 Teaspoon mustard
3 eggs
1 dash black pepper black
seasonings (original recipe suggests 1 dash thyme + 4 Tablespoons chopped parsley)

Beat eggs slightly before whisking in seasonings, milk and soup, followed by ham. Pour into greased baking cups and set in hot water. Bake 55 minutes at 350°.

Recipe adapted from “Ruxton Recipes,” Church of the Good Shepherd, 1953

image
image
image
image
image

Codfish Cakes / Coddies*

image

While recipes may differ slightly, at least one thing remains the same: the only way to eat a coddie is with yellow mustard!” – Gilbert Sandler, Glimpses of Jewish Baltimore

In the rush to canonize crabcakes, a lot of other regional foods have been pushed to the fray. That’s basically what this blog is about. But few of those foods arouse as much nostalgia and opinion as the lowly coddie.

Baltimoreans in particular associate coddies with memories of grandmother’s cooking, lenten church suppers, or cheap eats at drugstores. Some who remember coddies say they are best left to memory; deservedly dying off.

Of course I disagree, and I always pick one up for a snack when the option is available and my gut has the space for it. At Attman’s, they tempt you while you wait in line. At Faidley’s, a coddie order and a deviled egg is a quick lunch that fits most budgets better than their famous crabcake.

image

The Practical Cook Book, 1888, Baltimore

While the precise history of coddies is unclear, their basic form has been around for a really long time. Salt cod and potato patties appear in all the old published Maryland cookbooks. Elizabeth Ellicott Lea suggests them as a way to use up leftover cod. Mrs. B.C. Howard calls them “fish balls” and recommends they be served with hasty pudding for breakfast. The 1888 Baltimore advertising cookbook “The Practical Cook Book” includes some chopped onion in their “Cod Fish Balls”, and you can bet that I did too (grated shallot, actually.)

image

Gallery of Graphic Design

In the early 1900s, codfish cakes served as an early convenience item to finish by frying at home; “instant dinner.” The Gorton-Pew Fishing Company – which dates its commercial fishery back to just after the French and Indian War – made a concerted effort to market a processed convenience food to housewives.

According to a 1920 issue of Marketing Communications magazine, the Gorton-Pew company first considered developing an exciting new product; most importantly something that “would not add to a woman’s work.”   When the company instead decided to market a convenient version of an existing favorite – codfish cakes- they conducted surveys with over 10,000 women to gauge for the most popular proportions for the ingredients, preferences in meal planning and even packaging. In an early example of food processing having affecting flavor and nutrition, they chose a potato variety specifically for its ability to remain “snow-white after subjection to the greatest heat of processing.”

Once the machinery was built, manual labor was only needed to remove the eyes of the potatoes. By 1920, The Gorton-Pew codfish cake factory in Gloucester was churning out 30,000 cans of potato cod-fish cakes a day. These commercial codfish cakes were primarily popular in New England, and may be partially responsible for the passions that differentiate Baltimore ‘coddies’ from codfish cakes today.

image

1949 Advertisement, Baltimore Sun

The most popular Coddies in Baltimore, which perhaps defined the term for Baltimoreans, were Cohen’s. Some stories credit the invention of the coddie as we know it to Fannie Jacobson Cohen, who ran a stall in Belair Market with her husband Louis in the early 1900s. The family eventually moved to distributing the coddies to other vendors and delis all over town.

Cohen used only a small amount of codfish, plus “10 carefully mixed commercial spices,” to make their coddies. These, it seems, are the one true Coddie. The name, however, has been diluted to mean any form of codfish cakes sold in Baltimore, as well as the various recipes that get printed from year-to-year.

I can say for certain that my 1 to 1.5 fish to potato formula was more fishy than my usual coddies from Faidleys. On the other hand, John Shields uses my same ratio in a recipe for “Lexington Market Coddies” in “Coastal Cooking” (2004). An old recipe printed alongside the coddie origin story in “Glimpses of Jewish Baltimore” by Gilbert Sandler is nearly identical to the one I used. At least Mrs. Cohen gets credit for the saltines and the mustard.

Cohen’s ceased production of their famous Coddies in 1971. Since then, the standards for what exactly a coddie is and isn’t have gotten more and more muddled. Some declare that coddies contain no cod at all. At least opinions about coddies remain strong. As long as we have that, the tradition is alive.

image

Recipe:

  • 1lb salt cod (I got mine at Caribbean Supermarket)
  • 1 to 2 lbs peeled, cooked, mashed potato
  • 2 tb butter
  • 2 tb grated shallot
  • 2 tb milk
  • pepper to taste
  • flour
  • parsley, mustard and saltine crackers for serving

Rinse off fish and set to soak for 24 hours, changing water about every 6 hours. Plase the fish in cold water and bring to a boil for 10 minutes. Repeat. When it has cooled slightly, flake off the meat from the bones. Mix in other ingredients except flour. Dust in flour and fry until golden brown on each side. Shake with parsley just before serving with crackers and mustard.

Recipe adapted from “Queen of the Kitchen,” “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen,” “The Practical Cook Book”, “Tested Maryland Recipes,” “The Maryland Cook Book,” and “300 Years of Black Cooking in St. Mary’s County

image
image
image
image
image
image
image

* I forgot to buy saltines but hey I’m not even claiming this recipe is real coddies. Please don’t bully me!

Scroll to top
error: Content is protected !!