I could dedicate this entire blog to cooking from this book and researching the people in it. At times I may be appear to be doing so.
‘Frederick Philip Stieff, son of the piano-making Baltimore family, was a celebrated amateur chef and a sort of menu historian. He made a personal crusade of collecting—mainly using hand-written family papers and the memories of aged cooks—old Maryland recipes. This volume, he declares in his foreword, offers merely “a generalization, a diversification of the receipts [as he calls them] which have for decades contributed to the gastronomic supremacy of Maryland.”’ – JHU Press
I actually can’t find as much information as I’d like about Stieff, other than his lineage, the fact that he is buried in Greenmount (a visit is in order), and that he has written at least one possibly not food-related book.
Upon his death in 1964 he donated rare books covering “a wide range of cookery including recipe books, the provisioning of households, the history of beer, wine, and other beverages as well as histories of inns and taverns” to the Pratt Library.
Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland seems to be inspired by the same goals as my own interest in Maryland food. Yes there are crabcakes, but there are also biscuits, puddings, fried chicken, bear steaks from Western Maryland, stuffed hams and more hams, and a cursory archival of historic menus.
There are also celebrations of Maryland’s many historic homes, hunt clubs, railroad dining service, and hotel restaurants.
It must be noted, as the forward in my Hopkins Press 1997 edition states: ‘while the book’s tie to the past is its strong point, that link also contributes to its weakness. The patrician tone, found both in Stieff’s writing and in the illustrations by Edwin Tunis, can be jarring. Ladies are lovely examples of “vivacious femininity.” Servants, housewives, and farmers are characterized as not too bright and are the object of many jokes. In reissuing this sixty-five-year-old-work, the Johns Hopkins Press eliminated the illustrations it considered racist. The past is not always pretty.’
The book primarily deals with the receipts of Marylanders of notable lineage, or those residing in large estates. I’m often left wondering about the enslaved people and servants behind this cooking.
Nonetheless, the book is like a gateway into Maryland culinary history, a model for enthusiasm and self-celebration, and an all-around fascinating read.
Invoice, Chas M Stieff Manufacturer of Grand & Upright Pianos