maryland culinary history Archives

“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”

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:

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.

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

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!

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

Parks went under and was bought by Dietz & Watson in 1999.

Source: Observer-Reporter, 1996

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.