What is it about white potato pie? Something about this odd-sounding idea really captivates people. It certainly got my attention many years ago when I was cooking my way through the Southern Heritage Pie & Pastry book. That pie started an obsession with lost ‘Maryland’ dishes. I’ve tried hundreds of Maryland recipes from the mundane to the bizarre and eventually given talks about my findings. After showing people slides of dozens of delicious dishes, and mentioning dozens more, come the questions and comments about the white potato pie: My grandmother used to make it. What IS it? Do you have a recipe? It sounds good! It sounds disgusting.
When you scratch the surface, white potato pie is not all that strange. Flour can be sweetened with sugar to make cake and no one bats an eye. Zucchini bread is fairly common. If you can accept tofu ice cream or rice pudding, why not white potatoes, sweetened and flavored with lemon and nutmeg? White potato pie filling hails from the same pudding tradition as sweet potato pie or pumpkin pie – and their British relative, carrot pudding. Somewhere along the lines, white potato pie got left in the dust.
A quick internet search reveals that most of the popular recipes these days have brief, memorable names. The exceptions are generally branded like “Cheesecake Factory Beef Wellington” or things that list their contents ala “Cheese, Potato, Sausage, Black Pepper, and Pimento Casserole.”
I do a lot of examination of the ways in which recipes get passed along, but what about their names?
I was at the Maryland Historical Society the other week doing my thing when I came across a recipe in Mrs. John Stump’s handwritten recipe book, for “A Nice Little Dish of Beef.”
“Mince cold roast beef very fine add chopped onion, pepper, salt & a little gravy, fill your dish two parts full, mash potatoes milk cream & butter & fill your dish, put it in oven to brown.”
The very un-catchy name stuck out at me so I did a search and found “A Nice Little Dish of Beef” in my database two other times. It’s printed in “Maryland’s Way,” where it is called “An original receipt” from the Ivy Neck papers from 1828. The other is from Mrs. B.C. Howard’s 1873 book “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen.”
Those two recipes instruct the cook to “fill scallop shells two parts full” with minced beef and onion, before topping with creamy potatoes and butter and baking. I suppose the scallop shells make this dish of beef more “little” and perhaps even more “nice.”
I traced the recipe back to good old Mary Randolph, from whom Mrs. B. C. Howard and the author of the Ivy Neck receipt copied it verbatim, with name intact.
1856 issue of Southern Cultivator which printed the recipe for “A Nice Little Dish of Beef”
The word “nice” is used a lot in old cooking manuscripts, often as a comment from the author: “Tried this. Nice.”
“The word nice, derived from Latin nescius meaning ‘ignorant’, began life in the fourteenth century as a term for ‘foolish’ or ‘silly’. From there it embraced many a negative quality, including wantonness, extravagance, and ostentation, as well as cowardice and sloth. In the Middle Ages it took on the more neutral attributes of shyness and reserve. It was society’s admiration of such qualities in the eighteenth century that brought on the more positively charged meanings of ‘nice’ that had been vying for a place for much of the word’s history, and the values of respectability and virtue began to take over. Such positive associations remain today, when the main meaning of ‘nice’ is ‘pleasant’”
Perhaps this beef dish, a variant on shepherds or cottage pie (and obviously a use of leftovers), seemed a little bland or simple in comparison to the ostentatious plantation fare that Randolph’s reputation was associated with.
Whatever her logic, she derived the recipe from the popular 1806 British Cookbook “A New System of Domestic Cookery” by Maria Eliza Rundell. Rundell called it “Beef Sanders.” From there, it’s origin is lost, and the name unexplained.
We’ll never really know why Randolph renamed the succinct “Beef Sanders” to “A Nice Little Dish of Beef,” but it did have the interesting effect of starting a new, American continuance for the recipe, as it was copied again and again, name and all.
By the 1920s and 1930s, the recipe was occasionally published as “Scalloped Beef” or “Baked Minced Beef” before fading away altogether.
Which is a shame, because it is pretty tasty, versatile and hard to mess up. In a word, you know… nice.
Recipe:
From “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen”
Recipe notes: I ended up with sliced beef but whole would probably be better. I went heavy on the butter since the beef was lean and I didn’t have cream for the potatoes. Would be excellent with a shallot!
“A Spanish proverb says to make a good salad, four persons are necessary — A spendthrift, for oil; a miser, for vinegar; a barrister, for salt; and a madman to stir it up” – Tested Maryland Recipes
Unless you’re a die-hard salad fan, you probably haven’t been thinking to yourself “hell yeah it’s Salad Season!” For the most part you can get decent passable salad-makings year round.
Like so many things, salad used to be at the mercy of the seasons. A lot of the choice lettuces and herbs are “old world” – and though they’ve been here since the colonial days, they don’t appreciate the Maryland summer heat.
About this time of year in the 19th century, wealthy ladies were wowing their guests with artfully arranged salads served between dinner and dessert. Mary Randolph recommended gathering the lettuce and herbs early in the morning, and crisping the greens in cold (preferably ice) water before dressing. Other 19th century guides offered similar, if less precise, instructions:
“The Queen of the Kitchen, Old Maryland Receipts”, M.L. Tyson, 1874
Washed vegetables were sometimes dried with centrifugal force, just as they are in a salad spinner. This was done by placing them in a special basket and swinging it around.
An 1890 book lists a large assortment of ingredients that could make up this type of salad:
Salads — For these procure mustard and cress, borage, chervil, lettuce, parsley, mint, purslane, chives, burnet, nasturtium leaves and buds, fennel, sorrel, tarragon, corn salad, dandelions, chicory, escarole; water cresses, green onions, celery, leeks, lettuce, very young spinach leaves, the tender leaves of oyster plant, fresh mushrooms, young marshmallow shoots, and the fresh sprouts of winter turnips; also radishes, cucumbers, onions, cabbage, very young turnips, green peppers, and fresh tomatoes. Salad vegetables which can be cooked and allowed to cool and then made into salads are potatoes, beets, carrots, cabbage, cauliflower, turnips, kohl-rabi, artichokes, string beans, green peas, asparagus, Brussel sprouts, spinach, dried haricot beans, Lima beans, lentils, and leeks; among the fruits are apples, pears, oranges, lemons, muskmelons, currants, gooseberries and barberries. – The New Practical Housekeeping, Estelle Wilcox, 1890
So… everything.
According to “Southern Provisions: The Creation and Revival of a Cuisine” by David S. Shields, popular lettuce varieties around the Baltimore area in the 1870s included butter lettuce, Simpson, and “curled Silesia.” He asserts that “both lettuce and celery… cultivated in Maryland [were] deemed of superior quality.”
For this post I tried out two types of classic salad dressings. The first recipe, for boiled dressing, was submitted to “Eat Drink & Be Merry in Maryland” by D. Charles Winebrener of Frederick County.
Boiled salad dressing is basically an alternative to mayonnaise-based dressing, and the predecessor of ranch. Boiled dressing is typically used for potato salads and cole slaw, but worked nicely with kale for a week’s worth of lunches.
Both of these dressings can be seasoned to taste with herbs and spices, and I opted to use a little ground chipotle powder in each.
I served the second dressing in in a somewhat more traditional salad based on the suggestions of Mary Randolph.
In her recipe she lays out, in typical great detail, her feelings on salad presentation:
“The Virginia Housewife: Or, Methodical Cook”, Mary Randolph, 1827
I also referenced my Maryland lady Mrs. B. C. Howard’s method. As is often the case, her treatments contain less seasonings than Randolph’s. The addition of a little sugar by Randolph is the mark of such an experienced cook.
“Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen”, Mrs. Benjamin Chew Howard, 1881
Edible oils used uncooked in this manner were sometimes generically called “salad oil.” I wondered about the oil available to these 19th century cooks. We can assume that even the gentry of this era consumed their fair share of rancid oils. Olive oil was available at the time, often known as “sweet oil.”
On the eve of the Revolution, a 1768 assembly in Annapolis called for a boycott of most goods imported from England.
Several Maryland counties entered into a resolution of non-importation of British “superfluities” and vowed to cease the import of horses, wine, beer, ale, beef, pork, butter, cheese, candles, refined sugar, and oil, “except salad oil.”
1769 Advertisement, Maryland Gazette, Annapolis
In the early 1800′s or late 1700′s, sunflower oil was developed and was sometimes used as an alternative to olive oil. In 1830, one national newspaper reported that “sun flower oil is likely to become an article of extensive manufacture in this country,” claiming that at “a large dinner party in the neighborhood of Baltimore recently .. a Salad, dressed with Sun-flower oil was eaten, and pronounced to be excellently well dressed, nobody expecting it not to be Olive Oil.”
Around that same time, in 1829, corn oil was discovered, “by accident in preparing mash for distillation.“ According to “corn.org” corn oil didn’t go into commercial production until 1889.
I strongly preferred the hard-boiled egg dressing for both flavor and convenience. I might just make this one a regular. What can I say – there is a reason Mary Randolph is a Southern Classic.
Boiled Salad Dressing
3 eggs, separated
1 cup of cream or half & half
¼ cup vinegar
1 tsp mustard
1 tsp pepper
2 tsp salt
Beat the yolks and whites of the eggs separately, and slowly heat in a double boiler with vinegar, mustard, and pepper. Slowly stir in cream and continue to heat. When thick, stir in salt. Whisk constantly as it cools.
Recipe adapted from Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland
Interest in culinary history tends to enjoy a boost around this time of year. Some excellent pieces have been written illuminating the historical foods consumed on Thanksgiving. As though our own traditions are not authentic or traditional enough, many of us feel compelled to dig into the origins of the very day that defines the word ‘tradition’ in the United States.
I admit to being less concerned with what the Pilgrims ate than I am with the foods found on Maryland tables for the holiday.
While there is some overlap, Marylanders and many Southerners especially may find that many of our Thanksgiving favorites made their way to the table through the same thorny and winding path as the other foods we know well.
One source that I cross-reference for this website is not a Maryland cookbook at all. Nonetheless, Mary Randolph’s 1824 book “The Virginia Housewife” is a crucial text whether you want to dissect the lineage of your “candied yams” or the so-called “Maryland Beaten Biscuits.”
Interpreter Pam Williams working from “The Virginia Housewife” at the Hays House, Bel Air
Mary Randolph was born in 1762, near Richmond, to a prominent Virginia family. In 1780 she married a cousin, David Meade Randolph. Mary Randolph was well-respected as the lady of their estate “Moldovia” and its slaves and servants.
It is claimed that Mary Randolph’s hostessing was so widely famous that Gabriel [no last name], an enslaved man who led an unsuccessful rebellion of slaves in the Richmond area, would spare her life to cook for him though he hoped to kill other slaveholders. This story is dubious as it is likely that a man fighting for the freedom of enslaved Virginians would be aware of who did the heavy lifting in the kitchen at Moldovia.
The Randolphs and their Federalist ties became their undoing when Thomas Jefferson removed his cousin David Meade Randolph from the position of Federal Marshal in 1802. Evidently the extravagant hospitality left little room for savings and the family’s finances soon went into decline. Mary’s enterprising solution was to open a boarding house in Richmond in 1808. For the next ten years, the venture expanded Mary Randolph’s fame as a hostess and cook.
The cookbook (containing many other household hints) came out in 1824, with a stated purpose that is fairly typical of old cookbooks: the altruistic intention of the book was to educate young housewives.
Advertisement in the Frederick Town Herald, 1832
New editions of the book continued to be printed for decades after. Mary Randolph died in 1828 and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
It is said that the book’s significance lies in its snapshot of the birth of true American cooking. While Amelia Simmons’ 1796 book “American Cookery” is considered the first American cookbook, Randolph did more than just incorporate some American ingredients to British recipes. Randolph’s book does not simply “make do” with the ingredients available to cooks in the young country – it celebrates them. “The Virginia Housewife” can be surprising in its adventurism, from Gazpacho to the loads of garlic found in some recipes. That spirit lays at the foundation of Southern cuisine.
This is why I have no intention of recreating humble, modestly seasoned dishes for Thanksgiving. Making the most of what we have in this day and age is not a necessity as it was to Simmons, it is a joy, as it was to Randolph, and to Jane Gilmor Howard after her. It IS the tradition that we carry on during the holidays and beyond.
My favorite passage from “The Virginia Housewife” demonstrates the meticulousness Mary Randolph was known for
I met Pam Williams at a hearth cooking demonstration at the Hays House and enjoyed the rare chance to interact with a lively group of culinary history enthusiasts. I knew I wanted to reach out to her to be the first of what I hope will be a series of little interviews with various historians, authors, and chefs involved in preserving and celebrating Maryland’s culinary traditions.
In what she describes as a “mid-life crisis sort of move”, Pam Williams took a job with a historical tour company in Annapolis. “It opened so many doors that I never knew I’d love to look in so much.” In 1996, after 12 years there, she took a part-time job with the City of Bowie Historic Properties Division as a Museum Assistant. From there she eventually moved on to Assistant Director, and Director. “I feel so very lucky, privileged, fortunate, whatever to be in the position I hold. I love my job! (Except at budget preparation time!!!!)”
Which came first, your interest in cooking or your interest in history?
I think I’d have to say my interest in cooking came first. I’m from a large family, the eldest, and somehow I always knew how to cook something. My mother was an “intuitive cook,” making things that were really high level cuisine, and never realizing what she was doing. She was always my cooking inspiration. As a consequence of my historical employment, I got into reenacting. After being the chef de camp for a bit, I decided we needed to have some historical food in camp. It grew from there.
Can you tell me about some of the places you do or have done your hearth cooking demonstrations?
Belair Mansion, Hayes House, Smallwood’s Retreat, Jerusalem Mill…too many to recall!
What, if anything, do you think we stand to gain from studying the history of food and cooking?
Food is a common denominator. We all have to eat. Our ancestors had to eat. The quote below sums it all up nicely.
“You could argue that cooking is the activity that most defines us as humans. Dolphins have a language; crows can create tools. But only humans can cook. By cooking, we transform the mundane into something sacred. And then we share it with others. Food is the most shareable currency we have. You probably don’t pass out money to your friends, but you can pass the paella. But first you have to know how to make it.“
– Jim Sollisch’ New York Times,Sept. 4, 2013
Food teaches us where we’ve been, where we’re going, and how basically, people are the same over time…it’s an incredible connection to the past.
Has practice in reenactment and historical cooking methods changed the way you cook for yourself in every day life?
Actually, yes! I’ve learned to use spices in different ways, I’ve learned about the vast number of puddings, both sweet and savory, baked and boiled, and I make them at home. I make 18th century items for “home consumption,” as well as camp food.
At the Hays House you were working from Mary Randolph’s cookbook – are there any others you like to use and why?
Mrs. Randolph is a go-to for many of us. But there are many that we use, many that are available on line. Hannah Glasse, in all her prints and reprints over the 18th and early 19th century, is a sort of bible. John Nott. Eliza Smith. Harriet Horry Pinkney. While I don’t own a real live antique 18th century cookbook, I probably have 25 reproduction ones.
What comes to mind when you think of Maryland food?
MARYLAND Stuffed ham (because there are other kinds.) Without a doubt! My roots are in St. Mary’s County! Crabcakes/oysters/rockfish/fried chicken. Kale (the “national vegetable of Southern Maryland”!) I grew up in the southern quarter of the state – Prince George’s County, and those transplant north from St. Mary’s and Charles! I grew up with them. But, in general, Maryland has a wonderful diversity of foodways…German, Pennsylvania Dutch influence, Jewish, Italian…you name it. We have a truly multicultural menu in Maryland.
Do you have any future plans, goals or projects in mind with your work or upcoming appearances/events?
The Smallwood Foodways Guild cooks every third Sunday at Smallwood’s Retreat in Smallwood State Park in Marbury, below La Plata. I’ll be, along with some friends, cooking at the Market Fair at the Banneker Museum in Ellicott City in June. Those are the big ones…have spider/trivet, will travel!!!
