Kapusta And Kilbash (and Sauerkraut for Thanksgiving)

A different version of this essay appears in Festive Maryland Recipes: Holiday Traditions from the Old Line State.

Sauerkraut came to Baltimore with German (and later, Eastern European) immigrants, but it made the leap to the dinner tables of Baltimore’s other citizens, in particular alongside the Thanksgiving turkey. 

Much has been written about this peculiar phenomenon, with a new flurry of articles and social media posts coming out each year.

In an Instagram post made by the catering company H3irloom Food Group, Chef Tonya Thomas posed proudly with a plate. “Thank you to all of our customers who ordered Chef Tonya’s sauerkraut to add to their holiday spread,” read the caption.

“No matter who you are and what your race, in Baltimore, sauerkraut is on the table at holidays,” Thomas told me. She can trace the sauerkraut tradition in her family back for generations, to well before the 20th century. When Abraham Lincoln declared Thanksgiving a national holiday in 1863, Germans were the largest group of immigrants in Baltimore, she noted.

In many places where sauerkraut is eaten, it is stewed with meat cuts or sausages for extra flavor. This was a good fit for Black home cooks’ practice of using every part of an animal, and Tonya’s grandmother cooked hers with pigtails. Tonya eventually began to flavor her own sauerkraut with smoked turkey instead of pork. More recently, she has flavored the sauerkraut with vegetable stock and spices instead of meat, to accommodate H3irloom’s vegan guests. 

The formula for sauerkraut itself is so simple that only a handful of recipes appear in my Maryland cookbook collection. It’s also long been available for sale in prepared form.

In Elizabeth Ellicott Lea’s 1845 cookbook “Domestic Cookery,” the two recipes for sauerkraut are labeled as “cabbage,” suggesting that sauerkraut may have been the primary use for cabbage in her household.

The earliest Maryland recipe calling the dish by name is in the 1870 “Queen of the Kitchen,” by Mary Lloyd Tyson. Had Tyson wanted to, she could have purchased prepared sauerkraut at William Bodmann’s Pickling House and Vinegar Depot on Howard Street. 

Continue reading “Kapusta And Kilbash (and Sauerkraut for Thanksgiving)”

Sour Beef from a Baltimore Food Memoir

“A calico-covered journal filled with handwritten recipes” left by her paternal grandmother inspired a high-schooler to write an entire book.

The year was 2010. I was starting and lazily giving up on Old Line Plate. Meanwhile, Grace Kenneth Collins was finishing a chapter every month on a book filled with stories and recipes. Presumably, the young go-getter was also completing her homework. According to a list in the Baltimore Sun, she graduated in 2012.

I can’t begrudge Collins for having an enviable amount of gumption, however, because the resulting book, “Sour Beef & Cheesecake: A Food & Family Memoir,” is pretty enjoyable. “I must confess that I am more of a storyteller and an eater than a cook,” wrote Collins in her introduction. The book is filled with charming anecdotes from the vantage point of youth, about adventurous eating, family lore, and of course, food.

“I Think I’d Be Her Favorite” was the title of the chapter with the titular Sour Beef recipe. Collins, having never met her grandmother Mickey, knew her only from family stories and the recipes in the calico journal.

Continue reading “Sour Beef from a Baltimore Food Memoir”

Mrs. Frederick W. Brune’s ‘Confederate Waffles‘

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This recipe comes from the “Maryland’s Way” cookbook via a “Mrs. Frederick W. Brune’s Book, 1860.” The source is likely the Brune Family Papers residing at the Maryland Historical Society. Other than delicious cornmeal waffles, the recipe led only to dead ends, with no real resolution or intrigue. There, I said it.

The Brune family legacy spans many generations in Baltimore, starting with the first Frederick W. Brune, a German who became a prominent Baltimore merchant after immigrating in 1799.

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His son, and his son were also named Frederick W. Brune, so the whole thing gets confusing. Timing suggests this book belonged to the wife of Frederick W. Brune II, maiden name Emily S. Barton.

Frederick W. Brune II was a founding member of the Maryland Historical society (MDHS). His son Frederick W. Brune III was a president of MDHS, as well as chief judge in the Maryland Court of Appeals.

The “Confederate Waffles, Mrs. Hubard’s Way” mystery remains. I couldn’t figure out who Mrs. Hubard was, although there was a Confederate colonel who could have known the family through politics. The recipe is not labeled as “Confederate” in the family papers. It may have been an addition for publication in “Maryland’s Way.” An employee at MDHS was so kind as to look into the Brune family papers for me, adding that they do not know whether the Brunes were confederate sympathizers but “it seems likely, because if you were in rich in Baltimore..” The name could possibly be a play on the corn-based Johnnycakes, which originate in New England.

Well there you have it. Hopefully I’ll return next week with something a little more interesting.

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Recipe:

  • 1 cup corn meal
  • 2 cups boiling water
  • 4 tb butter (optional: use part bacon grease)
  • 2 eggs, beaten
  • 1 cup flour
  • ½ tsp salt
  • 3 tsp baking powder
  • 2/3 cup milk

Stir cornmeal into boiling water until smooth. Add butter and stir until melted. Let cool before stirring in eggs, followed by flour, salt and baking powder. Thin with milk & pour batter into heated waffle iron.

Recipe adapted from “Maryland’s Way: The Hammond-Harwood House Cookbook”. Served above with berbere-spiced black-eyed pea fritters from “Afro-Vegan” by Bryant Terry

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