Spiced / Pickled Oysters

image

Mr. W. B. Burke of this city has the reputation of preparing the very best spiced oysters which leave our market, and if all are like the can which he left with us on Tuesday, his reputation is well deserved. They are truly a delightful article… He will forward them according to order to any part of the city or the U. States.” – The Baltimore Sun, 1839

In 4th or 5th grade, my class took a field trip to the Museum of Industry. It was one of the more memorable school field trips – especially the part where we lived out a day in the life of an oyster cannery. Innocent tomfoolery reflected real-life situations – kids smugly docked each-others pay for “contamination,” the “big boss” sat in an office and did very little for the most ‘pay’, everyone irritated the hell out of each other. At the end of it all, we took home an ‘oyster can’ of the clay blobs we’d steamed and packaged. I kept that can for a really long time, occasionally handling it to admire its old-timey label.

Love or hate them, its impossible to envision a Baltimore without oysters. The booming and often violent trade touched everyone in the region from the families who labored in the plants to the aristocratic epicures who couldn’t have a feast without them- on down to the dogs and rats picking over the shells in the city’s garbage-filled alleys.

image

Baltimore Oysters advertised in a Cleveland, Ohio newspaper, 1858

With advances in harvesting and canning, Chesapeake Bay oysters could be had far and wide. An 1879 newspaper ad from Deadwood, South Dakota advertised a surprising range of foodstuffs for a town that was considered “lawless”: Spanish olives, capers, curry powder, coconut, gelatin, chocolate, French mushrooms, New Orleans shrimp, and spiced oysters.

“Spiced oysters” being the same thing as “pickled oysters,” I’d assumed that these must be some vinegary, fermented concoction approaching fish sauce. This sounded like just the perfect somewhat repulsive thing to make when I recently interviewed for Atlas Obscura.

When I took closer look at the recipes, I was surprised to find very little vinegar included in most of them. The vinegar might give the oysters a little leeway in travel time, but pickled oysters turned out to be just another way to enjoy them – and a way for some of the many oyster packing companies in Baltimore to distinguish their product.

W. B. Burke operated one such business, and his spiced oysters were beloved by the Baltimore Sun. This could be because he more or less bribed the staff with free product. In December of 1840 they reported receiving two cans as a “Christmas Presents” (quotes used in the original.) “We have not tried them yet,” wrote the Sun, but “we do not hesitate to recommend persons in want of good spiced oysters give him a call.”

image

Man with a derby hat stands atop a mound of oyster shells outside the C.H. Pearson & Company oyster cannery,” Baltimore, c. 1890

Despite being a common item offered by oyster canneries, no 19th-century Maryland cookbook was complete without a few recipes for “Spiced” or “Pickled” Oysters. Recipes appear in published books as well as manuscripts. The quantity of oysters is typically in the gallon range, with anywhere from a few tablespoons to a pint of vinegar.

Rather than serving as a condiment, spiced oysters were typically sent to the table along with other dishes like roast ham, chicken croquettes, olives, bananas, and champagne. The 1883 Chicago Cooking School cookbook mentions that spiced oysters can substitute for fresh ones in a salad with cabbage, celery, and mayonnaise dressing. It is possible that they could be used in recipes where oysters were used to stuff meats. (This is how I’m using them.)

Even if they’re not fermented and shelf-stable, the idea of pickled oysters elicited cringes from several friends of mine. As a non-convert myself, I have to assume that part of the appeal of voracious oyster appreciation comes from their very grossness. Pickled oysters may be due for a comeback. What better way to one-up everyone in your adventurousness?

image

Recipe:

image

From “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen,” by Mrs. B.C. Howard

image
image
image

Similar Posts

  • |

    Fricassee of Corn, Elizabeth Ellicott Lea

    Though I’ve referenced her book a few times, I have been a bit neglectful in discussing Elizabeth Ellicott Lea, author of one of the oldest Maryland cookbooks. “Domestic cookery; useful receipts, and hints to young housekeepers” was first published in 1845, with several augmented editions printed in Baltimore in subsequent decades. In addition to famously…

  • Peanut Butter and Jelly Cheesecake, Delores Brown

    “For those gloomy days,” write Charles Britton in 1992, “when everything seems to be turning into dross, I have a note of encouragement to offer: We are living in the great age of cheesecake.”

    His column, which was syndicated in newspapers across the country, remarked on cheesecake’s 1980s rise to stardom, citing the two latest books on the subject, as well as “a popular Southern California restaurant chain called the Cheesecake Factory.” In that article, Britton shared six recipes for different cheesecake variations.

    Ten years earlier, Patricia Turner wrote in the Bridgewater Courier-News about two cheesecake cookbooks that were out at that time. Turner was somewhat less exhilarated about the possibility of cheesecake. Perhaps the golden age had not yet begun. Or perhaps it was the fact that Turner was on a diet and admitted to not having tried any of the recipes shared in her column.

    One of those recipes was for a Peanut Butter and Jelly Cheesecake – a different version than the recipe that I encountered in “Country Classics Vol. 2,” a 1980s cookbook put out by the Old Friendship United Methodist Church in West Post Office Maryland.

    This recipe’s contributor, Delores Brown, was too hard to pin down amongst the population of Worcester and nearby counties, despite the small size of the historic church she may have attended. All I know is that she shared this fun and slightly oddball cheesecake variation.