A reader once contacted me, asking “why there were so many recipes labeled with Maryland?” She included an example in her email – a recipe for “Maryland Cream Waffles.”
I hadn’t heard of Maryland Cream Waffles before, so I went to my database. The first thing I found was a recipe in Mrs. B. C. Howard’s “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen,” for “Cream Waffles (Made In A Moment).”
In Howard’s recipe, saleratus interacts with soured cream for leavening while egg whites are beaten separately for additional air in the waffles.
Later recipes swap out baking powder for the saleratus and often use fresh cream or milk, but the formula didn’t change much, even as it was printed and reprinted in newspapers from the 1910s through the 1990s.
Back when I first made Maryland Fried Chicken for my blog, I became a target of some amusing internet vitriol. The authenticity police took one look at my fried chicken leg served atop a waffle and saw heresy.
Although the disdain seemed a bit over the top to me, I can understand the confusion at its core. I always thought of the chicken/waffle combination as a Southern dish, dispersed our way during the Great Migration.
Waffle suppers had in fact been a popular church dinner dating back to at least the mid-1800’s, and in Maryland, they often featured chicken or “frizzled beef” aka creamed chip beef.
1924 advertisement, Salisbury Daily Times
Carvel Hall Hotel manager Albert H. McCarthy had been a Maryland resident for at least 37 years by the time he prescribed that “Maryland Fried Chicken” be served atop a waffle in “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland” (1932, Frederick Phillip Stieff).
In fact, a lot of the times when waffle advertisements or recipes appear in 1930′s newspapers, a distinction is made when the subject is “dessert waffles.” Talbot County resident Miss Mary McDaniel’s recipe for “Chocolate Waffles”, also from Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland, certainly falls into that category. It is the only waffle in that book containing more than a tablespoon of sugar.
Dutch immigrants brought waffles to North America in the 1700s, when they were cooked in an iron over an open fire. According to culinary historian Joyce White, cast iron waffle irons can be commonly found among the kitchen items in 18th and 19th-century probate inventories of taxable properties.
Waffle recipes varied regionally. In the South, sweet potato waffles became popular. Rice and corn were common frugal additions that also caught on in Maryland. All of the late 1800s Maryland cookbooks include multiple waffle varieties.
The first electric waffle irons hit the scene around 1911 and waffles became easier than ever to make. A Frederick Y.M.C.A. reported raising over $2000 (adjusted for inflation) from a waffle supper in 1913.
Advertisement, 1930
Waffles seem to have experienced another resurgence in popularity in the 1970s. Less than a half a century before, Aunt Jemima ads and the Aunt Priscilla column in the Baltimore Sun promoted racist associations with waffles. The imagery and language can be jarring. In 1975, Harlem native Herb Hudson founded Roscoe’s Chicken & Waffles -arguably the most famous purveyor of the classic combination- in Los Angeles. Chicken & waffles’ soul food identity was being cemented – and reclaimed.
If you order a waffle in Maryland today, you are likely to be served a chewy and sweet thick waffle made from pancake batter. I confess to routinely settling for this at diners.
True waffles can be had from the specialists like Connie’s & Taste This. These places frequently offer different sweet varieties like red velvet for the salty sweet set. In this spirit, I decided to go ahead and have some well-salted & honey-slathered chicken with my chocolate waffle. Although I can see the appeal, corn or rice waffles will remain my preference. Savory waffles will go better with chip-beef or chicken with cream gravy.
I’d like to see the chip beef waffle make a resurgence. Everything old becomes new again. Hopefully when it does there will be someone lurking in the shadows, ready to fight a war on behalf of toast.
Recipe:
.5 Cup butter
2 Teaspoon baking powder
1 Cup sugar
1.5 Cup flour
2 egg
.5 Cup milk
.25 Teaspoon salt
2 oz melted chocolate
vanilla extract, to taste
Cream butter and sugar, then add well-beaten eggs. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Gradually add flour to eggs, alternating with milk. Stir in chocolate and vanilla. Bake on hot waffle iron. “Serve with whipped cream or XXXX sugar.”
Recipe adapted from “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland”
This recipe comes from a popular cookbook produced by the Maryland Seafood Marketing Authority.
First produced in 1974, the book was developed with the aid of “state seafood home economist” Beverly Butler in order to “expand the role of the Chesapeake Bay seafood industry as a major contributor to the state’s economy.”
At the time, the seafood industry was reeling (oops no pun intended) from 1972 Hurricane Agnes’ devastating effects, particularly on the clam population.
Early editions of the book feature a 70′s looking cover that shows a pot brimming with uncooked mixed seafood sitting in the sand on a beach, and a sexy lady standing in the water in the background. Throughout the book she can be found clamming in short shorts, posing in the surf, and finally relaxing by a beach bonfire.
The 1980s reprints did away with this lady and created a unified design scheme throughout the first book and the two slightly-less-popular follow-ups. They also discontinued encouraging people to consume rockfish, since it was banned – instead, consumers were guided towards bluefish, shark and even squid.
All three books are available in a bundle on Maryland DNRs website, currently for $15. If you want the 1970s eye candy, you could always find a used copy online. The slim volumes don’t take up too much space on a bookshelf and make a decent reference. Maryland Seafood Cookbook is how I learned about steaming shad so you could eat the bones.
There is some very useful information in these books, but for the love of god, please PLEASE don’t consider the microwave a viable way to cook a crab cake.
2/3 cup dry breadcrumbs (I used House Autry spicy & it was great!)
6 slices bacon
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp lemon & pepper seasoning
1 heaping teaspoon chopped chives
Paprika, for garnish
In a small bowl, beat 1 egg. Put flour in a separate bowl. Spread ½ of breadcrums onto about a square foot of waxed paper. Dip each oyster in flour, then in egg, then place on breadcrums. Sprinkle remaining breadcrumbs over top of oysters and set aside.
Fry bacon until crisp, in 12″ skillet. Remove bacon & drain off most of the grease. Add oysters to the pan in a single layer and cook on each side until golden brown, about 5 minutes.
Beat remaining eggs until foamy and add chopped/crumbled bacon, plus remaining seasonings. Pour mixture over oysters and cook until eggs begin to set. With a spatula, lift up the edges of the omelet and tilt the skillet to allow uncooked egg mixture to run under omelet. Cook until all eggs are set but moist.
Hopefully I’m posting this recipe in time to catch any post-holiday abundance of fresh cranberries available in grocery stores near you. It’s finally cold in Maryland, and a warm muffin from the oven falls somewhere on the list of comforts for chilly days… probably.
There are quite a few recipes online for Orange-Cranberry Muffins and it is likely that they are all pretty good. This particular recipe, however, uses the aforementioned fresh cranberries. Also, it is attributed in the “Southern Heritage Cookbook Library” to the historic Robert Morris Inn on the Eastern Shore.
The Inn is built upon the one-time home of Morris, father of the “financier of the revolution.” The latter also once lived there as well. He’s the one everyone cares about with that whole Declaration of Independence signing and whatnot.
The elder Morris was a merchant who imported goods into the busy little port in Oxford. At the time Oxford and Annapolis were the bustling ports of Maryland – Baltimore rose to significance later.
1745 advertisement for imported goods
After Morris’ death in 1750, the house was converted to a hotel. Through the decades the inn changed names and owners and expanded too many times to list (which didn’t stop the current management from trying). Most of the presently visible exterior was constructed around 1870.
Today, visiting the inn from the west makes for a quaint trip; taking the Oxford-Bellevue Ferry across the Tred Avon River, the inn is the first prominent Oxford building that comes into view.
Oxford-Bellevue Ferry
For the record, I tend to believe that the muffin recipe is a
more recent product of the famed inn. When Robert Morris, Sr. arrived in
Oxford in 1738, the word ‘muffin’ would still have referred to what we
now think of as an English muffin. Which makes sense when you think about it.
Newspaper searches turn up a flurry of mentions of the Robert Morris Inn in the early 1950s. The Inn has remained a well-known charming getaway ever since. The muffin recipe probably came to be some time along the way.
Today the inn is owned by chef Mark
Salter. This past summer I enjoyed a nice lunch there, although muffins were not on the menu. The surrounding historic town of Oxford is lovely, with a tiny river beach and a nearby destination for amazing ice cream.
A lot of us here on the other side of Maryland may not be passing through Oxford until beach season, but these delicious muffins could be a fall and winter staple.
Recipe:
½ teaspoon grated orange rind
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons orange juice
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 cup flour
½ cup sugar
¾ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup chopped fresh cranberries
¼ cup chopped pecans (I used walnuts)
Beat egg in a small mixing bowl, then beat in orange rind, juice, and butter. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, soda, and salt.
Make a well in center of dry ingredients; pour in orange juice mixture.
Stir just until dry ingredients are moistened. Gently fold in
cranberries and pecans.
Spoon batter into greased muffin pans. Bake at 350° for 25 minutes. Remove from pans, and serve warm.
Recipe adapted from Southern Heritage (Oxmoor House)
In 2007, my friend hosted a “gross food” party. Everyone was requested to bring something from their childhood, a family favorite perhaps, something that might strike outsiders as a little gross. Ketchup Fried Rice was enjoyed. There was Ribs & Kraut. Some bozo who didn’t catch the net brought Popeyes. I took the opportunity to slice up a block of RAPA Scrapple, cook it to ideal crispness on each side, and then fold each slice in a piece of un-toasted white bread.
It was in this manner that scrapple was served at my grandparents’ trailer in Chincoteague, to a line of kids and about half as many adults before the tedious ritual of beach preparations or fishing trips.
Scrapple, Lexington Market
I checked with my grandmother and she says that she remembers eating scrapple her whole life. She also remembers ‘Panhas’ as a distinct but similar food from scrapple with a higher cornmeal content, whereas William Woys Weaver’s wonderful book “Country Scrapple” gives the impression that they are in fact the same thing.
My grandmother also stated that she believed scrapple originated in the South. This is a common misconception but scrapple is a Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland thing – with possible Native American and definite German origins, as well as regional adaptations and variations such as the Cincinnati specialty “Goetta,” featuring oats in lieu of cornmeal. Early recipes often featured buckwheat flour, and the selection of organs and meats used seems to vary to this day.
According to Weaver, the oldest datable recipe for American scrapple comes from Elizabeth Ellicott Lea, a Marylander (as the name makes clear) and Quaker who published her cookbook “Domestic Cookery” in 1845.
It is also stated that “the oldest scrapple maker still in business is Hemp’s in Jefferson Maryland,” founded in 1849.
Before that time, scrapple was made at home, often outdoors and in conjunction with sausage making.
“One [industrial era scrapple manufacturer] company does merit a mention, as it is a reminder that Baltimore is as much a scrapple town as Philadelphia. (Mencken disagrees – ed.) Henry Green Parks Jr. (1917-89), an African-American. began Parks Sausage Company in Baltimore in 1951. He converted an old dairy plant and soon put himself in open competition with firms like Rapa, which was essentially a Baltimore label. “More Parks sausages, Mom,” on radio advertisements is still remembered by many people today. The well-known Parks scrapple was the only Afircan-American brand to become a household word on a regional level.“ – Country Scrapple, William Woys Weaver
I’ve long held a defensiveness over the bad rep that Scrapple gets due to its name, and in the past I’ve jumped on the opportunity to serve it right. This however was my first time making it from scratch.
I started with a recipe for Scrapple from Mrs. J Morsell Roberts from “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland” but I also referenced a recipe from “Maryland’s Way,” the Hammond-Harwood House cookbook, and one from ”Chesapeake Bay Cooking“ by John Shields. His book is an excellent cookbook in itself but a valuable cross-reference for some of these minimal old recipes.
It’s lucky for us that Scrapple is so visually appealing because I haven’t found any good images for Mrs. or Mr. J Morsell Roberts.
The extent of my information is this:
Mr. J. Morsell Roberts died [1937 at] Calvert County Hospital.
Mr. Roberts was a member of an old Calvert county family, a son of the late Richard Roberts and Henrietta Morsell Roberts, and was very well known…. He was the husband of Mrs. Mollie Bond Roberts. – Calvert Gazette on mdhistory.net
I picked up a jowl at Lexington Market but I had to get the liver from a butcher shop. Perhaps I could have just gotten both at the latter and worked without the smoky jowl. I rinsed it, and the smoke flavor isn’t bad or overwhelming but it isn’t necessary.
Hog parts, Lexington Market
I also made my scrapple quite fatty. This was my first hog jowl experience. They are all fat. Weaver claims that the amount of fat included in scrapple increased over time due to various cultural factors. Mine may have taken it to new extremes. His book contains many recipes for scrapple. I intend to try some more this summer.
Lastly, my scrapple was a bit mushy. In a way, the mushiness ensured that it must be cooked properly, as it was impossible to flip until it had been well-crisped on one side.
There could be more to explore with scrapple in the future. Frankly, before reading Weavers book I had underestimated its very Maryland-ness. Any remnant of shame over this repulsive delight is purged from within me.
Recipe:
1 hog jowl
1 pork liver
salt
pepper, black
sage and/or other seasonings of choice
cornmeal
flour
Boil the jowl until the meat falls from the bone. (I did this in the slow cooker and added some onions I had to add flavor to the stock. Removed the onions later.) Save liquor it is boiled in. In a separate dish, soak the liver, changing water several times. Boil liver in separate water from jowl; throw this water away. Run all the meat through sausage cutter, then throw it in the reserved stock, season with salt, pepper, sage or other desired seasonings. Thicken with cornmeal the consistency of thin mush. Chill in a pan. To fry, heat a skillet with a very small amount of oil. Dredge slices in flour and fry until very crisp, turning once.
(Recipe Adapted from Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Maryland, Maryland’s Way, and Chesapeake Cooking with John Shields)
