baking powder Archives - OLD LINE PLATE

“If alum is something to be proud of why conceal it on the label in type as small as the law permits?” – Alum in Baking Powder, 1927, Royal Baking Powder Company

“Today, the Royal Company is manufacturing and selling a phosphate type of powder such as they condemned and classed as a mineral poison a few years ago.” – The Truth About Baking Powder, 1928, Calumet Baking Powder Company

The libraries of Johns Hopkins don’t always have much to offer when it comes to my research. This post was a rare exception. I found a lot of reports and books about baking powder in the Hopkins Sheridan Libraries. I soon learned that this is because it exists in the grey area between food, chemical, and – some once believed – toxin. It was a potential cause for medical concern.

I selected two books: “Alum in Baking Powder,” published by the Royal Baking Powder Company in 1927, and “The Truth About Baking Powder,” from the Calumet Baking Powder Company in 1928. The former is meant to dispel any bad publicity or residual rumors from a 1926 Federal Trade Commission Hearing regarding Royal Baking Powder and their crusade against the ingredient alum. The latter book is a rebuttal of the former, in which Calumet wants the reader to look at the cutthroat tactics of Royal and wonder “just what are you so afraid of, Royal Baking Powder?”

1911 Royal Baking Powder Advertisement

If that all seems confusing, its because it is. A new book, “Baking Powder Wars,” by Linda Civitello, chronicles the bumpy history of baking powder from convenient godsend to (alleged) public health menace to kitchen staple.

A lot of recipes in older cookbooks contain long-forgotten ingredients like pearlash and saleratus. I’ve always been struck by the ingenuity of cooks of that era, and the way that information and ingredients would disseminate around the country. In the case of these baking powder predecessors, they had some help from cookbook authors like Eliza Leslie and Amelia Simmons. Use of these leaveners marked further diversion from American cooking’s British roots.

“American women should be given more credit for what they created and for the chemical experiments they conducted in their kitchens. Even if pearlash was not revolutionary by itself – which it was – the accretion of innovation created a new American cuisine.” – Baking Powder Wars, Linda Civitello

Aside from chemical leaveners and yeast, you may recall that another traditional way to get air into breads, especially in Maryland, is to beat the hell out of the dough for a half hour or more. Performing this process definitely makes one think of the history of servitude and slavery in Maryland, and Civitello draws a connection between that and Eliza Leslie’s distaste for Maryland Biscuits, which Leslie deemed unwholesome (despite including the recipe in her book). Leslie’s Maryland contemporary, Elizabeth Ellicott Lea, also an abolitionist Quaker, simply declared that Maryland Biscuits are “very nice for tea.” But hey, as Leslie said “there’s not accounting for tastes.” (1)

Rumford Cook Book, probably 1895

Commercial baking powders were first developed in the mid-1800s, even before a reliable yeast was available to consumers. Housewives, cooks and bakers cultivated and maintained their own yeast. Between the different blends of flour, the variability of yeasts, and the makeshift baking powders, we can scarcely imagine the inconsistency of 19th century baked goods.

Regardless, according to Civitello, many women were skeptical of the chemicals, or else fiercely set in their independent ways. The burgeoning baking powder industry resorted to creative means to market their products to consumers.

The Royal Baking Powder Company released a cookbook in 1877, pushing their products with the allure of exciting new recipes. The book disparaged other baking powder formulas and offered hundreds of recipes featuring their product. (2)

As competition heated up, the war began. Royal promoted evidence that the ingredients in other baking powder formulations were responsible for indigestion. The most famous of this ‘evidence’ involved an 1880 study in which dogs were fed biscuits made with the different baking powder formulas – the Royal formula versus the “other leading brands” containing alum.

“Eight [alum baking powder] biscuits were given to dogs Nos. II and VI in the morning; in the afternoon dog No. II was very loose in his bowels, and dog No. VI very constipated. Five more biscuits were given in the afternoon and eight more the following morning, part of which were eaten. Both the dogs then were extremely constipated and apparently quite sick, although they did not vomit. To-day dog No. IV, in perfect health, was then given three biscuits… the dog became quite sick and vomited. In the afternoon and the next morning more biscuits were given him, but he would not eat.” – The Sanitarian, Volume 8, 1880

Very scientific. Loose stools AND constipation?!?! Even a DOG wouldn’t eat those biscuits!! Well I say! I’m smarter than a dog!

Nonetheless, the baking powder competition waged on; right on up to the Federal Trade Commission hearing in 1926.

Rumsford Chemical Works, whose creator Eben Horsford pioneered the original commercial baking powder formula, produced their own cookbook in 1895. Newspapers around the country advertised a “New Pastry Cook Book” by Baltimore Cooking School principal “L. A. Willis”(3) which could be obtained, for free, from Rumsford Chemical Works if you sent in a label (aka your ‘proof of purchase’) from Horsford Bread Preparation (an early self-rising enriched flour).

Rumsford was wisely capitalizing on the rising popularity of cooking instructors, and the cooking instructors capitalized right back.

Lida Ames Willis had been a pupil of Sarah Tyson Rorer, and made good on her credentials with a healthy amount of endorsements. She assisted with Gas & Electric company promotions, and also endorsed Knox Gelatine and Cottolene shortening. Alongside Rorer, Marion Harland, and a few other cooking instructors, Willis contributed recipes to a 1914 book called “Home Helps” – a promotion for Cottolene.

Home Helps, 1910, Duke University Library

The similar refrains from Cottolene about purity and indigestion make one wonder if there aren’t larger forces at play than some unsafe ingredient in baking powder.

Why did people used to suffer from so much indigestion? Well, for starters, nearly any ingredient in a recipe could have been adulterated or spoiled. Refrigeration was not widespread, canning practices were not standardized, and unscrupulous corporate activity was rampant. Maybe people had un-diagnosed sensitivities to gluten or FODMAPs. Maybe e. coli was all over everything (ew). But also… maybe humans just get a lot of indigestion?

Safety concerns are one of the pillars of marketing to this day – GMOs being just one obvious example. And my Rumsford Baking Powder tin assures me that the product is aluminum free.

The convenience of baking powder didn’t eliminate the use of yeast, or even the tradition of beaten biscuits. Still, we have baking powder to thank for a world of cakes with a light texture and a “faint metallic trace of bitterness” that “unfortunately, Americans grew to love.” (4)

If you’re wondering what happened to the dogs who ate biscuits made with Royal Baking Powder, well: “each dog was given as many biscuits as he would eat… Their bowels were not in the least affected.” Those dogs ate a ton of delicious biscuits “with appetite,” and their stools were perfect, which is more than I can say about my own dog who eats food that is made for dogs.

Recipe:

2 heaping teaspoons baking powder
1 Teaspoon salt
1 Quart flour
2 oz butter plus more for spreading on cake
cold milk
sugared strawberries
whipped cream

Sift 2 heaping teaspoonfuls Rumford Yeast Powder, and 1 teaspoonful salt with 1 quart flour. Rub in 2 ounces butter and moisten to a very soft dough with cold milk. Mix quickly and lightly; pat out into a large round cake 2 inches thick; place in a large, square baking-pan and bake in a very quick oven 20 minutes. While hot pull apart; spread both halves with good, sweet butter, not pressing but dropping it on with a knife; spread the lower half with a thick layer of slightly crushed, sugared strawberries; put on the top crust, dust with sugar, heap with sweetened, whipped cream and garnish with a few large berries. Serve at once, and cut with a hot knife.

Recipe from The Rumford Bread and Pastry Cook by Lida A. Willis

I think I made this batter too wet. I didn’t bother making an adaptation of this recipe because you can find your own strawberry shortcake recipes out there. But I would have used twice as much strawberries or made half as much cake, and also maybe less milk.

(1) Eliza Leslie “Maryland Biscuits” recipe

(2) A 1920 version is available online. “ Housekeepers who have always used Royal Baking Powder with utmost satisfaction are sometimes misled into experimenting with baking powders containing questionable ingredients. “

(3) Spelled “Leida” in this book, her name appears more often as Lida and Lida is the name used in the census

(4) Culinary historian Karen Hess quoted in “Baking Powder Wars”. This book has much more history going on including corporate espionage and Clabber Girls trouble with the KKK – check it out if you’re into that kinda thing!

Before the internet and magazines boasted millions of novel (and disposable) recipes, newspapers were a valuable source for recipes that could become staples in a household. With that in mind, I’m hoping to source more entries from newspaper recipes.

This one was shared in 1939 in the Afro-American by Lillian Lottier, prominent Baltimorean, teacher, activist, and columnist for that paper.

Lottier’s “Royal Tropicaroma Cake” was first popularized in “The Royal Guide to Meal Planning” in 1929 as “Tropic Aroma” cake. I expected pineapples & bananas but this is actually more of a spice cake complimented with coffee and chocolate.

Baltimore Afro-American, 1939, referencing Lillian Lottier’s husband’s employer

Lillian, born in 1881, was the daughter of Reverend Reuben Armstrong, who came to Baltimore from Harrisburg, PA to become pastor of historically black Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church from 1897 to 1904. According to the church’s website, the ministry of Armstrong was “riveted in the policies of black middle classness and intellectualism. [He] encouraged and sponsored ecumenical involvement, wholesome cooperation, and cultural activities – including forums and literary and musical programs.”

It was from this tradition that Lillian Lottier dedicated herself to a life of working for civil rights and social progress. In 1924, Lottier served as the first female president of the Baltimore NAACP. There she “led the Branch for only a single term but made a tremendous statement and mark on the Branch and the City of Baltimore.” She was a founding member of the Baltimore Urban League, and remained active with that organization as well as the Women’s Presbyterian Society.

“Her social activism gives an insight into the interest of female members of the NAACP. She was a long-time member of the United Protestant group in Baltimore that raised funds for inter-church meetings and charity work starting in 1933 and was executive officer by World War II. During the great depression Lottier was a member of National Negro Congress and was a publicity officer for its Baltimore branch, spearheading campaigns to end racial discrimination in employment, targeting large corporations such as Consolidated Gas, Electric Light, and Power Company [now BGE].” – Borders of Equality: The NAACP and the Baltimore Civil Rights Struggle, 1914-1970

Outside of her own column, Lillian Lottier merited frequent mentions in the Afro-American due to her active involvement in the PTA of several Baltimore schools. Her namesake daughter, Lillian Lottier Bolden (1918-2000) was an educator herself, who taught physically and mentally challenged students in Baltimore City.

“Teachers participated in a wide range of efforts to promote democracy, reform curricula, organize communities, and mentor young civil rights activists. Their engagement, both in the public sphere and behind the scenes, has shaped and influenced the Civil Rights Movement.” – Teachers in the Movement: A civil rights oral history project

Reading through Lottier’s columns in the Afro-American is a reminder of the diverse viewpoints among those working for civil rights. “Borders of Equality” described some of her activism with contraception as being “in the vein of the middle-class progressive urge of the era,” and some of Lottier’s views might not seem progressive those with a modern view of civil rights causes.

Nonetheless, her column is an interesting insight into the generation that laid the groundwork for the civil rights activism of the 1960s. In one spirited column she decries a preacher making a flirtatious “remark” to a parishioner. She passionately censures this affront to morality. Despite the amount of words dedicated to this outrage, the “remark” seems to be lost to time. I for one feel cheated.

“Now, she’s a person that puzzles me. I have often wondered whether she is a saint or a sinner. There are times when she seems pious enough to be a cardinal, and there are times when she seems to have a devil-may-care glint in her eye and a ‘Come-on, I-dare’ look in her face.” – 1930 Afro-American column about Lillian Lottier

1957

Lillian was married to George V. Lottier, a postal worker. Although he was involved with the YMCA and a writers group called the “Scribblers,” he does not appear to have been as outspoken as his wife. The family lived at 1509 Druid Hill Avenue in the Upton neighborhood.

“Even though this sex of ours has convincingly demonstrated our ability to compete successfully with men in almost every phase of life, there are still a few dull-witted, pig-headed, narrow-minded males left for whom we welcome additional proof.” – Lillian Lottier, 1926

The frequent Afro-American coverage of Lillian Lottier’s active life began to taper off in the 1950s. An avid-reader, she remained active in book clubs and celebrated milestones in the lives of her four children. In 1957 the Lottiers’ 50th anniversary is celebrated in the paper. Lillian passed away in 1976 with little fanfare. A Baltimore Sun obituary states that in addition to her four children, she was survived by twelve-grandchildren and fifteen great-grandchildren.

“At the best our gain in knowledge during a short life-time is but partial and limited, and it does seem a shame to waste any precious hours in willful blindness and self-deception.

Let it be our earnest desire… to do our feebly best to live fully, deeply, richly, and in accordance with the Creator’s wonderful purpose for mankind.” – Lillian Lottier, 1926

Recipe:

.75 Cup butter
1.25 Cup sugar
2 egg
2.5 Cup flour
4 Teaspoon baking powder
.25 Teaspoon salt
1 Teaspoon nutmeg
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
1 Cup milk
1 Tablespoon cocoa
1 Tablespoon boiling water

For icing:

2 Tablespoon butter
2 Cup sugar, powdered
1 Tablespoon cocoa
1 Tablespoon vanilla extract
1 Tablespoon strong coffee

Cream butter; add sugar a little at a time followed by well beaten eggs, mixing thoroughly.

Sift flour, salt, baking powder and spices together. Add a little of the dry ingredients to the first mixture; slowly add milk followed by remaining dry ingredients.

Pour two-thirds of this batter into two greased and floured layer tins.

To remaining third of batter, add 1 tablespoon cocoa mixed with 1 tablespoon of boiling water. Use this batter for middle layer.

Bake layers at 375 F for 15-20 minutes. Put the filling and icing between layers and on top and sides of the cake.

Filling/Icing: Cream butter and add sugar and cocoa very slowly, beating until light and fluffy. Slowly add vanilla and coffee until soft enough to spread.

Recipe adapted from “Cake for a Postman,” Baltimore Afro-American newspaper, 1939