Clam Fritters, Virginia Roeder

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Home Economics as a professional pursuit codified “women’s work” and amended school curricula, but it also opened doors for women professionally.

The name Virginia Roeder may ring a bell to longtime Baltimore recipe collectors. For 23 years she wrote for the “women’s pages” of the Baltimore Evening Sun, offering guidance on cooking and housekeeping. She penned three columns weekly, totaling around 3500 over the course of her career. The most enduring legacy of these columns is the “Fun with Food” and “Fun with Sea Food” cookbooks still serving many Baltimore kitchens today.

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Richard Q. Yardley illustration, “Fun With Sea Food”,1960

In 1953, the Sun profiled Roeder, who was then hosting a Television show called “Nancy Troy’s Food Show.” (I am not sure why she assumed the “role” of Nancy Troy on the show.) The Sun reported that Roeder’s days began at 5:30 a.m., preparing breakfast for her husband and three children before heading to work at the William S. Baer School where she taught home economics to disabled children. After a day’s work she prepared dinner for her family and then “[sat] down with her husband to bring his company’s books up to date” for his wholesale distribution business.

In 1961 the Sun ran a highly illustrated tour of the Roeder’s home on Meadowwood Road, asking “how does an advisor to housewives manage her own home?” They described the decor in the “immaculate” home, complete with pool table, children’s playroom, “roomy pink kitchen,” and a corner desk in the master bedroom where Roeder typed her columns on Saturdays.

Basically, Roeder was Baltimore’s own Martha Stewart. (Roeder served on the board of a bank – she did not get involved in any insider trading, however.)

Born Virginia Voigt in Oklahoma, Roeder followed in her mother’s footsteps to pursue a career in education, earning a bachelor’s degree from the University of Science and Arts at Oklahoma (formerly Oklahoma College for Women). She soon ended up in Baltimore, where she made her mark on the school system, the food culture, and even in banking.

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She’s been inducted to the Oklahoma College for Women hall of fame, where a biography of her achievements declares itself to be “simply a list of firsts.” In addition to earning a master’s and a doctoral degree at Johns Hopkins, Virginia Roeder became the “first female Deputy Superintendent Baltimore City Public Schools,” “first woman president Maryland Association of Secondary School Principals,” and “first woman board of directors Carrolton Bank.”

After retiring from education she continued to be a successful businesswoman in real estate and travel agencies.

Even while working towards all of these goals, Roeder maintained the refined image of an ideal mid-century “housewife.”

I got my copies of “Fun with Sea Food” from the Book Thing. The photo at the front shows a smiling Virginia Roeder. The author’s biography lists one accomplishment after another before declaring “Mrs. Roeder does all the cooking for her family.”

Two recipes for crab cakes are included, one of which has been marked “excellent” by my book’s previous owner. Other sections besides “The Delightful Crab” are adorably titled: “The Fascinating Fish,” “The Sophisticated Scallop,” “The Admirable Oyster.”

The recipe for Clam Fritters asks below the title, “Haven’t you ever made them?” I hadn’t so I took Virginia Roeder up on her challenge.

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Recipe:

  • .5 Pint clams, minced
  • .75 Cups flour
  • .5 Tablespoons baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon crab seasoning (adapted – Roeder used nutmeg and salt._
  • 1 beaten egg
  • .5 Cups milk
  • 2 Teaspoons grated onion
  • .5 Tablespoons melted butter
  • oil for frying

Sift dry ingredients together. Combine egg, milk, onion, butter and clams. Add to dry ingredients and stir until smooth. Drop batter by teaspoonfuls into hot oil, 350 degrees, and fry until golden brown on each side.

Recipe adapted from “Fun With Sea Food,” Virginia Roeder

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Fastnachts Küchlie

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Today is Kinkling Day and the smell of hot grease and fresh kinklings permeates many homes. Some people say that for good luck some of the kinklings must be fed to the chickens. This is done in a lot of
cases, but in most instances the housewife would rather do the eating.
Others declare that today is pancake day, and that tomorrow is kinkling day. Those interested can settle it among themselves.
” – The Frederick news, Tuesday March 7, 1916

While Louisiana has its world-famous Mardi Gras traditions, Maryland is not without our own rituals in preparation for Lent, and as with other regional traditions, they have been woven into the cultural fiber well beyond their religious context or national origin.

Atwaters Bakery may be peddling exotic King Cakes at me but I’ll take a Polish pączek from Krakus Deli or a German fastnacht, thank you. Much like scrapple, the latter is yet another Pennsylvania Dutch food that is as much a part of Maryland as it is anywhere.

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Frederick News 1932

Fasnachts were made as a way to empty the pantry of lard, sugar, fat, and butter, which were traditionally fasted from during Lent.” – Wikipedia

In Western Maryland, where they go by the unique name “Kinklings,” these cousins-of-doughnuts are celebrated with an annual flutter of news mentions and a rush on bakeries for “Kinkling Day.”

‘Eat a doughnut on Shrove Tuesday,’ say the Pennsylvania Dutch, ‘and live a year longer.’

Maryland Germans whose ancestors, like the Pennsylvania Dutch, came from the Palatinate, need no reminder that Tuesday is Fastnacht Day. By this time, they either have stocked the pantry shelf with the necessary ingredients for home-made fastnachts or they have placed an order with one of the bakeries that still make the real things.” – Baltimore Sun, 1958

I remember occasionally hearing my mother and her sisters mentioning the “Fox Nocks” they ate for dinner once a year. Quite a few newspaper-sourced recipes have made their way into decades worth of my family’s meals and apparently this is one of them. My guess is that the article my grandmother got the recipe from was “Doughnuts Everybody Remembers” from January 1963.

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We worked with my aunts approximation of this recipe. In the future I would probably complete one of the rises in a refrigerator overnight for convenient timing.

Despite the indulgent premise, fasnachts are actually less sweet than doughnuts. You’ll notice the relatively small amount of sugar in the recipe, although they are rolled in cinnamon sugar on the outside.

One source of confusion for us was the proper method for creating the dough indentations. My aunt remembered them being really stretched out and thin in the middle, my cousin preferred to press the centers in and leave the sides nice and puffy “like little bathtubs.”

When I located the news article it appeared to side with my aunt but we all agreed that the little bathtubs turned out very nice.

This didn’t exactly rid the kitchen of fats, as I now have a gallon of used oil in my kitchen, begging for things to be fried in it.
So much for Lenten fasting…

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Recipe:

  • 1 medium potato, peeled and cubed
  • 2 cups salted water
  • ½ cup sugar
  • 1 envelope dry yeast
  • ¼ cup warm water
  • ¼ cup shortening
  • 2 eggs, well beaten
  • 6 cups sifted flour
  • 1 teaspoon salt

Dissolve yeast in the ¼ cup of warm water, adding a pinch of the sugar. Set aside. Cook potato in the salted water until tender. Drain, reserving 1 ½ cups of the water. While the water is still warm, slowly whisk in shortening so it melts. Mash potato & beat in sugar. Add eggs and salt, mixing well. Gradually add hot potato-shortening water. If the mixture has cooled to lukewarm, beat in yeast and then gradually stir in flour until dough is smooth, satin-y, and pulls away from sides of bowl. Knead until smooth and elastic. Place in greased bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in bulk – about 2 ½ hours at room temperature or overnight in the fridge.

Punch down and remove to floured surface to knead further. Divide into two halves, form each into rectangle and roll to about 1/3-inch thick. Cut into 2 inch squares & place on baking sheets to rise again until doubled in bulk.

Pick up each square and press & stretch the center until the center is thin. Fry in hot oil or lard (375°), turning once to brown. Drain on paper towels & shake in a bag of sugar (optional: cinnamon sugar) while still hot.

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In Maryland, Cruller, Doughnut, and Fossnock are synonyms.” – questionable information from “Americanisms–old & New”, 1889

Fried Green Tomatoes

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Fried Green Tomatoes are far from a Maryland-specific food but they fit nicely among Maryland fare for a few reasons. The Southern-ness of Fried Green Tomatoes, mistakenly taken for granted since the 1992 film, is now being exposed as questionable. Maryland, though perhaps not Marylanders, can relate to this questioned Southern identity.

Recipes for fried green (and red) tomatoes, often served with cream gravy, appear throughout my Maryland cookbooks and newspapers from the 20th century onward.

Frying green tomatoes makes a lot of sense in Maryland, where we have a slightly shorter growing season than locations farther south. It is a handy technique come October, when the last of the crops refuse to ripen in time and you want to savor that final vestige of summer.

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In this case I went the opposite route, using some of the beautiful early tomatoes that show up at the Waverly Farmers Market.

The simple recipe I used came from a community cookbook, “The Country School Cookbook II” printed in 1980. Although I cannot determine much about Amy Horne, the recipe’s contributor, this elementary school was founded in Easton in 1934 and is still operating today.

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Country School founder Dorothy Starrt and original location from the Country School website.

The cookbook is most notable to me for its exceptional illustrations. They reflect the bounty of the Eastern Shore, of which this author considers the tomato to be the crown jewel.

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Recipe:

  • 2 Green tomatoes
  • 1 egg
  • 1tb water
  • salt & pepper or seasoned salt
  • oil or bacon grease (or both)
  • breadcrumbs (smaller than the ones I made! smash them small!)

Slice green tomatoes very thin (they are best when slightly tinged with pink). Dip in egg, which has been slightly beaten with seasonings, thinned with a little water. Fry in a thin amount of oil or bacon fat until brown and crisp, just under 2 minutes each side.

Recipe adapted from “The Country School Cookbook II”, 1980

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“Green Corn” in Imitation of Fried Oysters

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As a wise person once said:

“Green corn, we believe, is essentially a Maryland herb, for here only is it found in full perfection. Go south but a hundred leagues, and the best hotels will serve you corn that leaves a lingering feeling of imitation and inauthenticity. It is, as it were, a bit lousy. Go north, the same distance and you will find the green corn flabby and watery. Go west and it will disgust you utterly. In Maryland alone does it reach the flawless heights.” – Baltimore Sun, 1909 (via The Spokesman-Review)*

Green corn in this case probably means young corn. I wasn’t completely able to work that one out. However, there are many references to and recipes for “green corn” in old newspapers and cookbooks.
Most of them are positive but there is also this: During the “Maryland Campaign,” Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s first invasion of the North, many of his soldiers, after eating “green corn,” allegedly became ill with diarrhea en route to the bloody Battle of Antietam.
So like, green corn won the Civil War?

I came across this fritter recipe in a few places – first was “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland” as “Green Corn in Imitation of Fried Oysters” c/o Miss Rebecca Hollingsworth French of Washington County. They appear in “Maryland’s Way” as “Artificial Oysters” from “Aunt Ery.” I also came across them in a strange Baltimore Sun page in 1837:

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Baltimore Sun Archives, September 23, 1837

I don’t know if the nubile young corn we got from One Straw Farm could qualify as this mystical “green corn” but I went for it anyway.
So the question now is.. did the result taste like oysters? Frankly, I didn’t get that. But they did make nice little sandwiches and snacks. You could really go any way with these.. part of a vegetarian meal, or in my case, make a sandwich, adding a little anchovy sauce to the bread for some umami of the sea. Still cheaper than real oysters, after all.
I guess the other question is.. did we feel any, uh…. less ready to face our foes in the battlefield? Thankfully, no. We survived with innards un-afflicted.

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Recipe:

  • 2 cups of young corn, cooked, grated from cob & mashed
  • 3 tb flour
  • 2 eggs, beaten
  • 1 tsp salt
  • Pinch each of black & cayenne pepper
  • Butter or oil for frying

Mix together first 5 ingredients. Fry in shallow oil or butter until golden brown on each side.

Recipe adapted from “Maryland’s Way” & “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland”

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*This article is recommended reading! Transcribed here for posterity.

Maryland Fried Chicken II: That Steaming Thing

“The disservice done the public by commercially fried chicken is perpetuating the fallacy that Southern fried, by definition, is crisp, crunchy, and deep fried. There is more to it than that, for there are other ways to fry a chicken.

So how does a Southerner fry chicken at home? He coats the disjointed chicken with seasoned flour and browns it in hot shortening or oil on both sides. Now for the decision: to crisp or not to crisp? With lid on and heat lowered, the chicken becomes meltingly tender, not the least bit crisp, and as Southern as any other. This can be carried a step further when the chicken is done, excess fat may be poured off, and a little water added. Lid on again for five minutes of steam, and there’s Southern fried fit for the gods.” – Southern Heritage Cookbook Library, “Plain & Fancy Poultry”

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This week we will revisit Maryland Fried Chicken, briefly, to try out the dreaded “steaming” step.

First I will say that contrary to the above Southern Heritage quote, the steam step is far from conclusive.

I started to make a spreadsheet to track this. Here’s what I have so far:

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I also cross-referenced my two favorite Virginia cooks, Mary Randolph (1824) and Edna Lewis (1976) and found them both serving their fried chicken with cream gravy.

According to The Encyclopedia of American Food and Drink by John F. Mariani “The idea of making a sauce to go with fried chicken must have occurred early on, at least in Maryland, where such a match came to be known as “Maryland fried chicken.” By 1878 a dish by this name was listed on the menu of the Grand Union hotel in Saratoga, New York…“ (source) No mention of steaming. 

This Serious Eats post explores the same subject, delving into whether to add that water to the pan, and coming to the conclusion “I don’t think [adding water is] a great idea, and I also don’t think it’s necessary: covering the pan for a portion of the frying traps more than enough of the steam generated by the chicken without pouring in additional water. I have a few theories about what this covering/steaming step accomplishes, the main one being that it helps the chicken cook more evenly despite its not being fully submerged in oil. “

Their final conclusion is: “Covering and steaming may seem antithetical to the goals of frying, but it’s pretty amazing how crispy the chicken ends up after the final minutes of cooking while uncovered.”

So its obvious that many Maryland cooks counted this step as a necessary part of their chicken cooking. I tried it and I found it tasty.. I mean it is fried chicken. It wasn’t as crispy but there was still a crispiness to the skin, and the meat was great. I think that tender fried chicken can be achieved without the water by attentive cooks and proper brining.

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Recipe:

  • 1 Cup flour
  • 1 Teaspoon salt
  • .25 Teaspoon paprika
  • 2.5 Lb cut up chicken, broiler-fryer
  • oil, vegetable
  • .25 Cup water
  • 1 Tablespoon butter
  • 1 Cup milk

Combine first three ingredients in a plastic or paper bag; shake to mix. Place two or three pieces of chicken in the bag; shake well. Repeat procedure with remaining chicken. Reserve two tablespoons of flour mixture for the gravy.

Heat ½ inch of oil in a large skillet to 325; add chicken. Cover, and cook 7 minutes. Turn chicken; cover, and cook an additiona 7 minutes. Reduce heat; drain off oil, reserving two tablespoons of oil and the chicken in skillet. Add water to skillet; cover and continue cooking over low heat 20 minutes or until tender. Drain chicken on paper towels; transfer to a warmed serving platter.

Add butter to pan drippings, and melt. Scrape sides of skillet with a wooden spoon to loosen browned crumbs. Gradually add reserved flour mixture, stirring until smooth. Cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Gradually add milk; cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until thickened and bubbly. Serve gravy with chicken.

Adapted from “The Southern Heritage Plain and Fancy Poultry Cookbook,” 1983

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I suppose my next step would be to try the side-by-side comparison. I may have exhausted all possible chicken talk so please follow the Old Line Place Facebook page or twitter if you want to be updated on how that goes – or try it yourself and tell me about it!

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