Maryland Fried Chicken: lets do this

image

Much like scrapple, Maryland fried chicken is a topic that I intend to revisit on Old Line Plate many times. There’s a lot of background, a lot of recipes, and enough confusion to go around.

So what IS “Maryland fried chicken”?

There is a European dish known as Chicken Maryland or Chicken a la Maryland, usually featuring bananas. This is probably the dish that is now famously known to have been on the menu of the Titanic.

There is a vanishing regional chain (outside of Maryland) known as Maryland Fried Chicken. Their main website is now shilling viagra and I never had the chance to try this chicken.

image

There are also some who would insist that Old Bay is essential to Maryland fried chicken. Old Bay and chicken make a fine combo but that is the kind of myopic thinking this blog stands firmly against.

There is also a controversial, questionable step included in some Maryland fried chicken recipes that flies in the face of modern fried chicken preference. That step entails steaming the chicken in the pan after frying it. This results in a very tender chicken but eliminates the crispiness. Sacrilege to some!

Fear not, that step is not essential. I am not sure when it became popularized but BC Howard’s book “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen” mentions no such thing. It appears in two of the five fried chicken recipes in Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Maryland. 

In my estimation, the main defining characteristic of Maryland fried chicken is the pan scraping cream gravy. Fried chicken is served up in this manner throughout the South but various sources throughout the years offer this style as “Maryland fried chicken.”

My primary source for cooking this time was ‘50 Years in a Maryland Kitchen’. I also referenced the recipes that appear in ‘Eat, Drink & Be Merry in Maryland.’

Albert H. McCarthy of Carvel Hall Hotel (erstwhile and now once again the Paca House) contributed the instructions:

“Cut young chicken into pieces and rub with salt, pepper and flour. Fry in hot fat to half cover the chicken until right brown. Serve with a cream gravy and waffles.”

image

BC Howard included a step which I feel is indispensable – brining the chicken. Her brine consisted solely of salt and water but I took a cue from my modern reference, a book called “Heritage” by Sean Brock.

I checked this book out from the library and it is beautiful but a lot of the cooking is fussy for my purposes. However, the author seems charming and gained my trust so I went with his brine which contains salt, sugar, and the secret ingredient of tea. He pan fried the chicken in many fats and topped it with the gravy (no mention of Maryland…)

The resulting chicken was very good but to my surprise it tasted like tea. (I’m not the brightest..)

In the future, to make sure that I enjoy the most Maryland flavor in my chicken I will probably stick with a salt & sugar brine only.

My next iteration of Maryland Fried Chicken will include the steaming step and a discussion of those who employed it throughout my recipe collection.

Maybe we can decide once and for all whether it is worth the sacrifice of crispiness – or perhaps whether there is room for both in life.

Recipe:

  • 1 gallon water
  • 38 tea bags (optional! or use less!)
  • 1 cup salt
  • 1 cup sugar
  • salt
  • pepper, black
  • flour
  • fat (oil, lard, bacon fat, etc.)
  • chicken
  • more salt
  • more flour
  • butter
  • cream
  • parsley

Put the water in a pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Remove from the stove, add the tea bags, and let them steep for 8 minutes. Remove the tea bags, or strain the liquid if you used loose tea. Add the salt and sugar to the hot water and stir to dissolve them. Pour the brine into a heatproof container and cool it to room temperature, then refrigerate until completely cold.

Cut the chicken into 8 pieces. Rinse with cold water. Place in the brine, cover, and
refrigerate for 12 hours.

After the chicken has spent 12 hours in the brine, make an ice bath in a
large bowl with equal amounts of ice and water. Place the chicken in
the ice bath for 5 minutes. (the ice will rinse away any impurities.)
Remove the chicken and pat it dry.

Season the chicken with pepper and then cover with flour (lightly salted). Cook bacon in skillet and set aside. Add additional oils until frying temperature and add the chicken pieces, turning and stirring them about to keep them from burning. It takes half an hour. Move to a towel to drain. Pour off off all the fat and melt a tablespoon or so of butter with an equal amount of flour. Add cream, parsley, salt and pepper. Stir until thickened. Pour this over the chickens and serve with waffles.

image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image

note: due to the tea this chicken looks much darker than it would otherwise

image
image
image
image

Adapted from ‘Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Maryland’, ‘Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen’, ‘Heritage.’

Washington City Paper: The Mystery of Maryland Fried Chicken

Mid-Atlantic Cooking Blog: Maryland Fried Chicken

image

Dried Beef, “Maryland Style”

image

Now that the mystique of cream gravy is lifted for me this recipe looked like a nice lazy entry, plus it has “Maryland” in the name for some reason. I’m not sure why that is although the recipe note in Maryland’s Way says “Dried, smoked beef, such as found in the Lexington Market Baltimore, should be scalded in this manner to remove some of the salt. Packaged chipped beef need not be first scalded.”

I searched Lexington Market and found no such thing so I bought a can of Hormel – and THEN I found a package of Esskay so that is what I ultimately used.
Nonetheless, please view this magical artful photo of the Hormel product on Wikipedia.

image

“Chippedbeefpacking” Dpbsmith at English Wikipedia

As for Esskay, it was founded in 1858 and became known as Esskay due to a consolidation in 1919 – Schluderberg and Kurdle (S and K) . They closed their Baltimore plant in 1993 because “its structure was not be strong enough to support 10-ton ham-boiling machines the company was planning add to its operations”.

image

I remember hearing their jingles on the radio during Orioles games growing up but I couldn’t find those jingles, only this amusing/gross video.

The internet didn’t turn up a precise origin story about creamed-chipbeef but the recipe I used is attributed to “The Up-To-Date Cook Book”, a community cookbook for St. Johns, a Montgomery County church, dated 1897. In that book it is known simply as “frizzled beef” or “creamed dried beef.”

Some diner I went to once had on their menu “S.O.S.” with the description “you know what this is.”

And indeed I do… its been a lifelong favorite, even though as a child I mostly got it from a plastic package that one BOILED and then emptied onto toast.

There is really not much else to say but I will take this opportunity to get on my soap-box and implore the world to stop serving up sub-par cream gravies. Gelatinous, flavorless, perhaps from a powdered mix.. being served now at a diner near you. Why? What is sacred if we can’t enjoy the magical simplicity of cream gravy?

Recipe:

  • .5 Lb beef, dried
  • 2 Tablespoon butter
  • 1 Tablespoon flour
  • 2 Cup milk
  • toast

Shred beef and place in a frying pan. Add butter and cook until slightly frizzled. Sprinkle over flour and stir well; add milk, stirring constantly. It will thicken quickly. Pepper and serve on hot toast.

image
image
image
image

PS I served it with some spinach because vitamins.

Scrapple, a first attempt

image

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.

image

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

image

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

image

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.

image

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.

image

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.

image

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.

image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image
image

(Recipe Adapted from Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Maryland, Maryland’s Way, and Chesapeake Cooking with John Shields)

Pudding of Split Rusks w/ Wine Sauce

“Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Maryland” again. This bread pudding comes care of Mrs. William D. Poultney.

image

According to the Maryland Historical Society:

“The Poultney family were descendants of Ellen North, said to be the first Anglo-American child born in the area that is now Baltimore. Thomas Poultney, Sr. (1826-1887) was a writer under the name Rabbi Ben Tomi. He married Susan Carroll, daughter of Charles Carroll, and their children included Evan, Thomas Jr., and C. Carroll Poultney. Evan Poultney (d. 1940, age 86) was a founder and the first president of the old Baltimore Club, with an avid interest in amateur theatrics. While attending Harvard University (from which he graduated in 1875), he was a member of the Hasty Pudding Club, and in Baltimore he supported the Paint and Powder Club.”

I had no idea what the Hasty Pudding Club was but apparently there WAS actual pudding involved. I’m not sure where William Poultney fits into that family but I’m sure that the love of pudding is in their blood.

image

Mr. Charles Parkhurst, director of the Baltimore Museum of art, chats with Mrs. William D. Poultney, a lender, and Mr. William C. Whitridge, a trustee of the museum, at preview of Maryland furniture of Queen Anne and Chippendale periods. (ebay)

Bread pudding comes in many forms in my household due to the leftover stale baguette segments or other bread leftover from sandwiches. Sweet bread pudding is more rare.
For this pudding I purchased some “rusks” at Punjab. I’ve always seen them there and wondered “what is the deal with ‘rusks’?” Well here is everything you want to know about rusks but didn’t care enough to ask:
Rusks are a twice-baked bread or biscuits. Popular in India for dipping into tea. Rusks are not biscotti but biscotti are maybe rusks? Okay that’s enough.
I wasn’t sure quite how to follow this recipe. Should the whites be mixed in before pouring over the rusks? I don’t know. It turned out okay. I added additional lemon peel on the top which was kind of moronic because it browned in the oven and looked like little dirt pellets.

Pudding will come back to haunt Old Line Plate many times, especially when I undertake some campfire cooking. Pudding is an early American staple and longtime favorite of famously English origin.

image

For the wine sauce I cross-referenced my Southern Heritage cookbook library as well as a different recipe in EDBMiM and whipped something together. There is never any reason why I would have some extra red wine around my household. However, I was visiting a friend who was trying out this weird non-alcholic red wine recently. No one really liked it so I took it home knowing I would find some use for it in the kitchen. Voila.
The pudding was kind of dry so I kept pouring more milk on it whenever I’d heat up a serving.

Pudding of Split Rusks:

  • 16 rusks
  • .25 Lb butter
  • .25 Lb almonds
  • 6 eggs
  • sugar
  • lemon peel

Pour some boiling milk over sixteen split rusks, then add a quarter pound of butter, a quarter pound of almonds, six eggs, sugar and lemon peel, and lastly add the whites of the eggs beaten to a froth. Bake and serve it up with a wine sauce.

image
image
image
image
image
image
image

Wine sauce:

“One-quarter pound butter, six large tablespoonsful of brown sugar, one egg, one glass wine (or more). Beat butter and sugar to a cream, add egg and beat until light, put in wine gradually. Cook until thick and nearly boiling.Stir constantly.”

image
image
image
image

Fricassee of Rabbit, Mrs. B.C. Howard

image

Fricassee or fricassée /ˈfrɪkəs/[1] is a method of cooking meat in which it is cut up, sautéed and braised, and served with its sauce, traditionally a white sauce.” (Wikipedia)

In the recipe for Pizza Chicken I introduced burgersub’s chicken allergy. This allergy also includes turkey and other fowl. As a result of it, rabbit has become the other white meat of our household.

If, like us, you insist upon eating meat, rabbit is a somewhat more sustainable option than the alternatives. And if, unlike us, you care about fats or health or whatever, rabbit is so low in fat that one could die from eating it.
I wouldn’t say I’m an expert exactly. Lexington Market has several stands that sell rabbit but they all peddle the same frozen rabbits, probably from the same source, all at the same cost.

They get the job done.

By far, my preferred treatment of rabbit is to put it in the slow-cooker, whole, with some oil, seasonings and liquid and let it go for several hours.
The result is that the meat comes right off the bone. When dealing with rabbit, this advantage can not be overstated.

In fact, if I were to make this fricassee again, I would probably complete the whole first step in the slow cooker. Perhaps use stock instead of dealing with the onion and parsley. Also I would not cut the bacon into tiny bits that are impossible to deal with.

image

This fricassee recipe came from “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen” by Mrs. Benjamin Chew Howard, aka Jane Gilmor.

Here in Baltimore, the name speaks for itself.

image

Jane Grant Gilmor Howard by Thomas Sully

This popular classic Maryland cookbook was printed and reprinted over the years, with a revised “for modern times” edition coming out some time in the 1940s. THAT version was reprinted by Dover in the 1980s. However, I hardly need editor Florence Brobeck telling ME to cut back on butter. Plus that edition leaves out crucial recipes such as instructions to heal a “drooping canary” and “how to clean polished Mahogany”. Mrs. Howard was a regular Heloise. 

image

1913 Edition of Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen

Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen is sure to make regular appearances on this website. Call me up if you need help with a drooping canary.

Recipe:

  • 1 young rabbit
  • 1 onion cut in two slices
  • 2 cloves
  • a little mace
  • parsley
  • .25 Lb streaked bacon, cut into dice
  • water
  • 20 button onions
  • 2 oz butter
  • 1 Tablespoon flour

Cut a young rabbit into neat joints and lay it in lukewarm water to draw put the blood then drain it and put it into a stew pan with a large onion cut into slices two cloves a little mace parsley and a quarter of a pound of streaked bacon cut into dice. Cover all with water and let it simmer twenty minutes keeping it well skimmed. Then pass the stock through a sieve into a dish and take out the pieces of rabbit and bacon. In another stew pan have ready two ounces of butter mixed with a good table spoonful of flour moisten with the stock and stir over the fire until boiling. Then trim the rabbit nicely and put it with the bacon and twenty button onions into the sauce and let it simmer until the onions are tender. Skim off all the fat. Then pour in a gill of cream into which the yolks of two eggs have been mixed. Leave it on the fire until it thickens but do not let it boil Take out the rabbit arrange it nicely on a dish pour the sauce over it and serve

image

This step may have been unnecessary with my thawed rabbit of unknown age.

image
image
image
image
image

Fun fact: briefly soaking garlic or small onions like these makes quick work of removing their skins

image
image
image
image

When in doubt use a thermometer to keep from scrambling those eggs

Hassle aside, this was a tasty dinner. Went great with some not-period-appropriate garlic naan.

image

Posts navigation

1 2 3 53 54 55 56 57 58
Scroll to top
error: Content is protected !!