maryland Archives - OLD LINE PLATE

Creamed Kale and Onions

October 11, 2017March 29, 2022

“Because fall and winter diets are often deficient in vitamins, A, B, and C, and important minerals, kale should be served at least two or three times a week.” – 8/7/1953 Hagerstown Morning Herald

I recently acquired this little community cookbook, “Kitchen Kapers,” put out by Bethel 31 of The International Order of Jobs Daughters in 1952. I had a hard time finding any history specific to this Masonic organization chapter, which is located in Westminster. The basic gist of their mission as stated on their website is that they teach “leadership, charity, and character building.”

The recipe’s contributor, Virgina Stoner, appears to have been about 31 when the book came out in 1952. Her family owned a Westminster home that had been surveyed by the Maryland Historical Trust for some unique architectural features. It was noted in their report that the home had been in the family since it was built in 1890.

There are a few things that I found interesting about this cookbook. The first is the 1950’s graphics which actually look so much like kitschy clip-art that I originally assumed the book was much newer. This style is so ubiquitous now that it is hard to imagine it in its contemporary context.

The same community cookbook – title, artwork and all – appears to have been used all over the country with recipes from different organizations. It has little corny comics throughout the book – an interesting inclusion for a book design that is basically a template.

As for the recipe itself, I find its open-endedness to be a little surprising. You can either use milk or just use the pot liquor to make the sauce for the kale. Those are two very different options. I suspect the latter option may be a holdover from WWII-era thriftiness.

Cumberland News, June 14th, 1943

I opted for the milk because, as a 1959 headline declared in the Salisbury Daily Press: “Kale Tastes Good in Cream Sauce.”

Creamed kale recipes appear to have been pretty popular during that decade, although recipes for a similar dish appeared in the 1930s under the moniker “panned kale [or spinach].” In the 19th century, it’s predecessor was known as “spinach a la creme.”

Despite its current undeserved punch-line status, kale has been in the U.S. since European colonization. The word probably comes from the same root as colewort, which is now basically known as collards.

In the 1890s, the Baltimore Sun occasionally reported on the thousands of barrels of kale that were shipped north from Norfolk. It was fairly popular in markets as well as gardens.

Hagerstown Morning Herald, June 26, 1950

It was in the 1930s that the health benefits of kale really started to get attention. The Afro-American published a recipe for panned kale in 1930 under the headline “Pure Food Builds Health.” Articles in women’s columns continually provided recipes and boasted of kale’s nutritional value thereafter.

I was surprised to learn that kale was even eaten raw in salads historically. I am partial to raw kale salads myself, but somehow I bought into the hype and just assumed that raw kale was some modern-health-food era reverse-innovation.

Never-mind the fact that many of the nutrients in kale may not even be bioavailable when kale is consumed raw. In fact, the vitamins are probably all in that pot liquor that I set aside to replace with milk. Ah, well.

Recipe:

1.5 Lb kale
water
salt
2 Lb onions
.25 Cup shortening
3 Tablespoon flour
1.5 Cup milk
salt
pepper, black

“Wash well 1 ½ lbs kale
Cook in boiling salted water – enough to come half-way up around kale – until tender, about 15 minutes.
Peel 2lbs (about 12) small white onions
Cook in boiling salted water until tender, about 15 minutes. Drain and save liquid from both cake and onions.
Combine vegetables.
Make a sauce of
¼ c. shortening
3 tbsp flour
1 ½ c. milk (or use vegetable liquid)
Salt and pepper
Pour over kale and onions.
Serves 6.”

Recipe from “Kitchen Kapers,” Bethel 31 Of The International Order Of Jobs Daughters” Westminster, MD

Braised Duckling Bigarrade, Fort Cumberland Hotel

May 20, 2016January 13, 2019

This is another recipe from the glamorous hotel era – this time from Cumberland, Maryland. At the time of the publication of “Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland” in the 1930s, Cumberland was a booming town connecting the rest of Maryland to the west, particularly mineral-rich western Maryland, Pennsylvania and West Virginia. Trains, the National Road, and the C&O Canal moved freight and people from DC & Baltimore through this mountain town, and many of those people expected to wine and dine in style just as they had in Baltimore and on the train-ride itself.

To that end, the Fort Cumberland Hotel was built in 1916. This “typical small city hotel” offered middle-class residents of western Maryland a chance to feast on Sunday dinners of “Filet of Sole Au Vin Blanc,” “String Beans Au Beurre,” and yes, “Chicken A La Maryland.”

Early advertisements boasted the hotel as “fireproof,” a legitimate concern for the times but amusing and baffling today. The hotel ultimately did experience a fire in 1952 but it was minor, and the Cumberland Times reported that “no panic ensued.”

The Fort Cumberland Hotel was visited by no less than future President Harry Truman during a 1928 journey to dedicate twelve “Madonna of the Trail” monuments along the “National Old Trails Road.”

trumanlibrary.org

Digging into the past of hotel manager Ivan Poling, who shared this recipe with Frederick Phillip Stieff, provides some more damning evidence (if the racist cartoons weren’t enough) on Stieff’s character – if this is the company he kept. A businessman from a family involved in the coal business and then the hotel trade, Poling was the owner or manager of many hotels throughout Maryland and his home state of West Virginia. A news item from Fairmont, WV in 1924 indicates that Poling was almost certainly a member of the Ku Klux Klan. He was fined $500 for his part in a conspiracy to kidnap and batter a black man suspected of making advances on a white woman. Several of the other people charged were “officials” in the Klan. It is unusual that this incident made it into the news at that place and time – there is no way of knowing how he conducted himself thereafter. Upon his death in 1948, Cumberland obituaries recalled his “genial personality and friendly interest in people.”

Today the Fort Cumberland Hotel is a senior’s home. The population of Cumberland peaked in 1940 and has been steadily declining since. Perhaps some of the seniors living there can remember the time when the hotel offered another luxurious stop for the wealthy, and the town of Cumberland was bustling not just with wealthy travelers, but with the chefs and waiters, miners, and factory workers who made their lavish lifestyle possible.

Recipe:

1 duckling
carrots
onion
celery
butter or lard
½ cup currant jelly
stock
2 oranges
1 lemon
flour

Brown whole duckling, along with carrots, onion and celery in a saucepan with lard or butter. Sprinkle with a little flour and cook until the flour is well browned; add some tomato puree and stock, cover the pan and put in moderate oven until the duckling is well done. Remove the duck from the sauce and stir in a cupful of currant jelly and the juice of two oranges and one lemon. Peel strips off of the orange and lemon peel and boil until tender. Add them to gravy, serve over the duck and garnish with quartered orange.

Notes:

Although I adapted these instructions slightly (for legal reasons), they were equally vague in the original. I had no idea how much of anything to use. I got the duck at Potung. There are lots of kinds of duck and the one I bought is probably quite different from those served in Maryland in the early 1900s. This recipe is available online in more decipherable details.

Welsh Rarebit, Margaret Gadd Ashley

January 24, 2016January 13, 2019

I actually cooked this dinner quite awhile ago but I haven’t posted it because of frustrations. The recipe was contributed to “Queen Anne Goes to The Kitchen” by Margaret Gadd Ashley of the Centreville area. Despite some obvious relation to Janet Gadd Doehler of “Cheddar Chowder,” I couldn’t find out much about Margaret Gadd Ashley. I believe she was born in 1908. She passed away in 1980. Her husband descended from a family of blacksmiths who operated in Kent and Queen Anne’s county from the late 1800s up until World War II when a scarcity of materials made the trade impractical.

The story of the Ashley blacksmiths, as well as every grueling detail of a property they once owned can be found in this epic Maryland Historical Trust report.

Weird comic from 1940.

There are a few specious ideas about the origins of Welsh Rarebit and its name that annoy me too much to even write about… so I’ll stick to Wikipedia on this one.

Michael Quinion writes: “Welsh rabbit is basically cheese on toast (the word is not ‘rarebit’ by the way, that’s the result of false etymology; ‘rabbit’ is here being used in the same way as ‘turtle’ in ‘mock-turtle soup’, which has never been near a turtle, or ‘duck’ in ‘Bombay duck’, which was actually a dried fish called bummalo)”. – Wikipedia

Wikipedia also claims that “The word rarebit has no other use than in Welsh rabbit” but this recipe in Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland contradicts that:

No cheese in sight. The above actually sounds like a recipe for panhas/scrapple. The conflation is indeed curious.

In his 1926 edition of the Dictionary of Modern English Usage, the grammarian H. W. Fowler states a forthright view: “Welsh Rabbit is amusing and right. Welsh Rarebit is stupid and wrong.” – Wikipedia

Aside from that recipe, the only other Welsh Rarebit/Rabbit recipe in my database is from Mrs. B.C. Howard’s 1881 “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen.”

Origins and etymology aside, this is obviously a delicious and satisfying dish and a good meal for a cold winter night.

1887 rarebit humor

Recipe:

1.5 Tablespoon butter
1.5 Tablespoon flour
1.5 Cup milk
2 Cups sharp cheese
.5 Teaspoon mustard powder
.5 Teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Make a roux of butter & flour on low heat. Gradually add milk. Add cheese and let it melt slowly; then add other seasonings. Pour over Uneeda biscuits, English muffins, or toast. Optional: Gently broil for a minute or two before serving.

Recipe Adapted from “Queen Anne Goes to The Kitchen”

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

January 15, 2016January 13, 2019

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.

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.

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

Scrapple, a first attempt

April 21, 2015April 16, 2019

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.