seafood Archives - Page 3 of 4

White Clam Sauce

August 15, 2016December 10, 2021

Outside of the German peach cake, or the Indian chutney that made its way into Mrs. B.C. Howard’s recipe collection, non-English and African influences aren’t always obvious in the recipes I work from. A lot of cooking traditions were passed down orally in immigrant communities, or else handwritten recipe manuscripts of everyday citizens didn’t make their way into historical society collections and the like. The remaining option is to reference “old world” sources and attempt to fill in the gaps.

That’s why I was grateful to find “Italian American Favorite Recipes” in a thrift store – even if it was printed in 1982. This Baltimore community cookbook benefitted the “American Committee on Italian Migration,” or ACIM, an organization created in “response to the immigration crisis resulting from the social and economic chaos occurring in Italy after two world wars.” [1] Lobbying by ACIM facilitated “The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965” which abolished a quota system of immigrants by nation of origin. One book calls the act “The Law that Changed the Face of America.”[2]

Although Italian Immigration to Baltimore dates back to the mid-1800’s, ACIM found that many newcomers in the 1960s still needed assistance with relocation to the United States. A 2015 Baltimore Sun article on ACIM (now American Citizens for Italian Matters) describes some of the organizations more recent efforts such as the restoration of Italian works of art, university endowments, and contributions to women’s center My Sister’s Place.

The ACIM cookbook was compiled in 1982 by member Margaret Rose Mastellone. Margaret was an ideal force behind such a cookbook; she and her husband Andrea owned and operated the Mastellone Deli and Wine Shop on Harford Road.

Margaret Rose Mastellone, Baltimore Sun imagefortress.com

The Mastellone’s were venerated authorities on Italian food, frequently quoted in the Baltimore Sun on topics from olive oil (1984) to tiramisu (1989).

“I love being with people. I’ve been raised in this business. And it’s not just people of Italian extraction, all kinds of people come [to Mastellone Deli and Wine Shop] to shop. We share in what they do, no matter what their background may be. Thank God for the people who are interested in our type of food. We want to share with them. We have something that’s special.” – Margaret Rose Mastellone, “Preserving a way of life by cooking Italian style”, Baltimore Sun 1982

Andrea passed away in 2010, and Margaret two years later. Andrea’s renowned taste and knowledge of wine was celebrated, and it was said that “Customers who venerated Italian cooking quickly made [their] store into something of a gastronomic shrine.”

The Mastellones in their shop, newspaperphotographs.com

Ever since I made shad roe ravioli in the spring, I caught a fancy for homemade pasta. After months of pining I got a pasta roller to call my own. I brought home some clams from Chincoteague – my favorite – and turned to the ACIM cookbook for ideas.

Lo and behold, this recipe for white clam sauce was contributed to the book by the Mastellone’s son Salvatore; “White Clam Sauce alla Salvatore Mastellone.”

It turned out amazing and I’ve been rolling out fresh pasta on the regular ever since.

In a 1982 article about the cookbook, Margaret Rose Mastellone specified that clam sauce should be served with linguini. Presumably, she passed that preference onto her son. However, my pasta cutter only does spaghetti or fettuccine so I chose the latter, rather than buy dried pasta. I like to think that the Mastellones would understand.

Recipe:

24 cherrystone clams
.25 Cup olive oil
6 cloves garlic, minced
.5 Cup chopped italian parsley
.125 Lb butter
1 pinch red pepper flakes
1 Lb linguine or fettuccine

Clean clams and steam until open. Drain and mince clams; set aside. Brown garlic in oil; remove from oil and mash. Mix clams, parsley, butter, a pinch of pepper flakes, and mashed garlic. Boil pasta al dente. Add clam sauce and serve. “Have with a nice Italian white wine, chilled. Bon Appetito.”

Recipe adapted from “Italian American Favorite Recipes”

[1] The Italian American Experience: An Encyclopedia edited by Salvatore J. LaGumina, Frank J. Cavaioli, Salvatore Primeggia, Joseph A. Varacalli

[2] The Law that Changed the Face of America: The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 By Margaret Sands Orchowski

Additional obituary for Andrea Mastellone in Baltimore Magazine

Old Bay Pizza

June 7, 2016December 13, 2023

Update (2023): The recipe in this post was apparently invented by a woman named Connee Rauser Sheckler, who won a contest with it. It appeared in the “Cooking with Old Bay” cookbook under the name she gave it, “Old Bay Bianca Pizza.” I think I should make this dish again and share a few more of the details given to me by Mrs. Sheckler!

After over a years worth of Old Line Plate recipes, I suppose it’s about time that Old Bay, that icon of Maryland food, makes an appearance. I fully admit that the reason behind this lazy recipe and post is partially because I’m gearing up for CSA season. Also, I feel like I have exhausted the topic of manors and hotels for the time being. I’m hoping to get back towards one of my original aims, which is to talk about the actual food once in awhile.

First of all, I feel it necessary to mention that Old Bay isn’t the only game in town and all of the other crab seasonings are worth a try. J.O. is the most notable as it also dates back to the mid-1940′s and is the one most often used by crab houses.

1959 crab house ad

These seasonings are the grand-child of “kitchen pepper,” customized blends of seasonings that varied from cook-to-cook but generally contained pepper, nutmeg, mace or white pepper, cinnamon and other ‘warm’ spices to the cook’s taste. Aside from the convenience of having the spice blend on-hand, the flavors in the pre-mixed seasoning were believed to benefit from mingling before use.

Mrs. B.C. Howard’s Kitchen Pepper, 50 Years in a Maryland Kitchen

Old Bay Seasoning, developed by German immigrant Gustav Brunn, was named after a famous steamship that operated between Baltimore and Norfolk, VA from 1840 to 1962. That whole tale is on Wikipedia so I won’t belabor it.

“[In 1939], crabs were so plentiful that bars in Baltimore, Maryland, offered them free^{[citation needed]} and salty seasonings like Old Bay were created to encourage patrons to purchase more beverages.” – Wikipedia

Citation needed indeed. Many listings for the price of crabs in the newspapers, a 1938 crab conservation bill, and the knowledge that even a free crab has a cost when you factor in the cleanup all run counter to this fun fact.

1950 ad

But all is not lost. I have a new fun fact to replace it. In 1955, the purveyors of Old Bay, Baltimore Spice Company, were fined $500. Apparently it was illegal to ship salt and pepper mixed together across state lines.

I suppose that law was done away with shortly thereafter as Old Bay really took hold and became a household name in the 1960′s. The seasoning company was then, of course, purchased by McCormick in 1990.

This is one of the more modern recipes to ever appear on Old Line Plate. It comes from an early 1990s charity cookbook called “Developmental Delites.” This book raised money for the “The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Neurodevelopmental Committee” at Franklin Square Hospital. Contributed by nurse Beth Ann Legambi, it is one of two recipes in the book featuring Old Bay.

Nowadays it’s pretty hard to turn your head one way or the other in Baltimore and not have some Old Bay shoved in your face. I tend to believe this is more on the part of advertisements and media than it is the actual people. While it is true that my mother has dutifully provided my California-residing-brother with this necessity, for most Marylanders, Old Bay is a fact of life more than a rabid obsession.

Recipe:

1 12″ pizza crust
2 Teaspoon olive oil
2 Cup picked crab meat, backfin
8 slice cooked and crumbled bacon
1 Tablespoon Old Bay [or other crab -ed] seasoning
1.5 Cup grated sharp Cheddar cheese

Preheat oven to 425°. Place crust onto a greased 12-inch pizza pan. Top with olive oil, crab meat, bacon, Old Bay seasoning and cheese. Bake on lowest oven rack at 425° for 20 minutes or until crust is golden.

Shad Roe Ravioli

March 24, 2016October 17, 2019

The Southern Heritage Cookbook Library “Breakfast and Brunch” edition contains a menu for a “Maryland Spring Breakfast For Two.” The menu includes asparagus, fresh strawberries, cornmeal muffins and the pièce de résistance: ‘Shad Roe with Bacon.’ And this is how shad roe is best served. Simply and traditionally. Cook bacon; sautée onion; cook roe with onion; add lemon.

“Shad Roe and Bacon” has been advertised on Maryland Spring menus for over a hundred years now. So far, I’ve most enjoyed this preparation atop a bagel with cream cheese, served as you would cured salmon.

This hasn’t stopped me from experimenting. I’ve made John Ridgely’s Shad Roe Croquettes for this site. I’ve made shad roe bánh mì.

This year I made shad roe ravioli.

I think that for me, the appeal of shad roe is its relative obscurity- at least here in Baltimore. While it doesn’t come cheap, and is certainly ascending the ranks to *hot ingredient* status, I still get to delight in the thrill of introducing this delicacy to friends. First I entice them with alluring photos of the raw roe sacs. “Maryland’s Polarizing Delicacy,” I call it, referring to the handful of writers who have pronounced it revolting.

“Baltimore has long had some dubious culinary leanings… while on York Road the other night, I spotted a restaurant banner announcing the annoying shad roe.
I do not eat it. It’s worse than tripe, muskrat or kidney stew. Rhubarb is a delicious spring treat by comparison. And why is it, no matter what dining establishment I pick this time of year, that the person next to me is tucking in, with glee, on the vein-filled stuff, smothered with a pile of bacon?” – Jacques Kelly, Baltimore Sun, April 01, 2011

In 2004, Sun writer Rob Kasper theorized that a taste for shad roe separated Marylanders from.. everyone else*.

“One way to tell the native Marylanders from the “come-heres” is to put plates of shad roe in front of them and see who dives in and who shies away.” – Shad roe: “For Marylanders, it’s delicious,” for others, it’s just fishy, Baltimore Sun March 17, 2004

How on earth could I resist that?

In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, the Baltimore Sun used to list the prices of goods available at Lexington Market. Prices for shad roe accompanied weekly announcements about spring arrivals like strawberries and soft-shell crabs, alongside the usual dairy, meats, and vegetables imported from southern states.

Shad Roe’s arrival is also fortuitously timed with Lent, which surely increased its popularity and sense of fleeting blessings.

Much to my humbling, the idea of putting shad roe into ravioli is apparently not an original one. Shad roe stuffed in ravioli is mentioned by none other than James Beard in “Beard on Pasta.” It is also the butt of a joke in the book “American Psycho.”

I first topped my ravioli with beurre blanc with vermouth, capers and shallots. I found that altogether too overbearing and ended up toning it down. When I served the ravioli with a simple melted butter-garlic sauce (ok… a tiny amount of vermouth) then topped it with some parsley, capers and a little Romano.. well it was positively lovely.

This is a dish you’d serve to someone who is not too sure about shad roe. But then, if you’re not all in, why bother? With shad roe’s price and popularity rising, it may be best left to the diehards, served with bacon and toast and a smug sense of Maryland pride.

Recipe:

I used the “Serious Eats” pasta recipe and ravioli method. Shout-out to the kind Old Goucher neighbor who lent me the pasta roller. My neighborhood rules!

1 pair shad roe sacs
½ to 2 shallots – to taste (garlic would be nice too)
about 4 tb olive oil or butter
salt to taste
pasta dough

On medium heat, sautée a your shallots and onion until translucent. Add shad roe sacs and cover to heat evenly and prevent spattering. Gently move as needed to prevent sticking to pan. Cook for about 5 minutes on each side, until all roe is brown and no pink remains. Sprinkle with salt if desired.

Remove to bowl and mix thoroughly. Set aside to cool while you roll pasta (”How To Make Perfect Ravioli” on Serious Eats)
Fill each ravioli pouch with 1 tsp filling & seal.

To cook, plunge into boiling water for 3 minutes.

My sauce:

2 cloves minced garlic
2 tb salted butter
capers, drained but not rinsed
pinch minced parsley
pinch of grated Romano/Parmesan
parsley and lemon for garnish

Sautée garlic in butter, add a splash of vermouth or white wine if desired and continue to cook until brown and nutty. Drizzle over cooked ravioli. Top with remaining ingredients, garnish with lemon and additional parsley.

For more fun with shad, view last year’s photos of the whole lovely process of gutting the shad.

*Why yes I do know that shad roe is and was consumed all up and down the eastern seaboard, thank you.

Mrs. Zanvyl Krieger’s Shrimp Fried Rice

March 18, 2016January 13, 2019

Nothing could be more emblematic of the spirit of Baltimoreans than the passionate and swift reaction to the fire at the Book Thing earlier this month (March 2, 2016). Word spread like, well… fire, and Book Thing patrons including yours truly felt immediately compelled to share what we can to help restore this institution. Baltimore writer Patricia Schultheis penned a wonderful homage in the Sun, deftly describing the appeal of our beloved musty warehouse full of free books.

When I reached for a quick weeknight meal from my Maryland cookbook collection, I happened to see that book thing stamp on the inside cover of “The Park School Cook Book.” Not surprising really. A significant chunk of my collection has found its way to me through Book Thing.

When I originally found this particular community cookbook -first printed in the 1930s and then expanded several times- I appreciated the mix of modern and quaint recipes. I also took note of names like Wyman, Meyerhoff, Rothschild, and Krieger.

The Kriegers, kriegerfund.org

The Park School was founded in 1912, according to Wikipedia, “by a group of parents, primarily social and educational progressives in Baltimore’s German Jewish community.”

Baltimore residents and Johns Hopkins alumni know the name of Zanvyl Krieger if only for the School of Arts and Sciences that bears his name.

Krieger’s fortune has had a lasting impact on the Baltimore region – The Kennedy-Krieger Institute, American Visionary Arts Museum, Sinai Hospital, the Jewish Community Federation of Baltimore, and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra are just a few examples of beneficiaries.

This recipe for ‘Shrimp Fried Rice’ was contributed to the Park School Cook Book by Mrs. Zanvyl Krieger. I sadly could find little information about Mrs. (Isabelle) Krieger. Born Isabelle Lowenthal in New York in 1910, she was 36 years old when she married Zanvyl. She passed away in 1989; he survived her by another 11 years. The organization they left behind bears the name “Zanvyl and Isabelle Krieger Fund.”

This recipe was perfectly tasty (as I made it) and notable for two main reasons. The first is the interesting inclusion of both A-1 sauce AND Worcestershire in addition to soy sauce.

The second is the extreme quantity of shrimp!

I made this with 1/3 the shrimp because frankly I’m on a budget, but it was more than plenty. I can’t imagine this dish made with the entire three pounds of shrimp called for. I guess its a bit unnecessary to say “wow, all that shrimp, they must have been rich!”

In the 1970s, Mr. Krieger began to distribute his wealth to charities.

“I
did it because it gives me a great deal of satisfaction to be able to
benefit others,” he said in a 1996 Sun interview. “I think the basis of
life is satisfaction. We all do things to satisfy ourselves. If you have
money, you might as well be able to enjoy it. I enjoy giving.”

To make up for the less shrimp I added an extra egg. I also couldn’t find canned bean sprouts so I used fresh plus some bamboo shoots… which completely changed the flavor. Plus I used a lot more onion. Basically I ignored everything. I have never felt more like more of an enemy to authenticity than when I strayed from the recipe for this Baltimore German-Jewish-American Shrimp Fried Rice. Nonetheless I’ll present the recipe below as it appeared in the book.

“It gave [Zanvyl Krieger] great joy to be able to give,” said a daughter, Betsy L. Krieger of Roland Park. “He always said, `Giving money away was more fun than buying a Rolls-Royce.’” – Sun Obituary, September 2000

But the Krieger family sure didn’t scrimp when it came to shrimp. Okay I’ll shut up now. If you’re feeling inspired to share your own wealth today, the Book Thing donation page is here: http://www.bookthing.org/

Recipe:

3 Lb shrimp, cleaned and peeled
3 Cups cooked rice
1 Tablespoon chopped onion
3 Tablespoon soy sauce
dash A-1 sauce
dash Worcestershire sauce
2 fried eggs
1 can bean sprouts
.5 Teaspoon salt
black pepper

Sauté onions lightly in 2 tablespoons butter until translucent. Add shrimp and cook until shrimp is pink, about ten minutes. Add drained bean sprouts, rice and seasonings. Fry two eggs thoroughly and chop and add. Taste and correct seasonings.

Recipe adapted from “The Park School Cook Book”

Broccoli Crab Soup

December 10, 2015January 13, 2019

Published in 2003, “I Can Cook You Can Cook” may not be the most historic in my collection, but it does offer a snapshot of a Maryland food personality and a time and place from whence it came. (Most cookbooks do, which is why I love them.)

The book itself hearkens to a less “sophisticated” era in cookbooks, in contrast to modern photo-laden coffee-table cookbooks. The recipes are mostly simple weeknight fare.

More importantly, the book serves as a record of its character of an author, Wayne Brokke. While you may not find artfully-composed photos accompanying each recipe, instead the book is peppered with Brokke’s stories and humor.

Beginning in 1978 Brokke operated a restaurant in Federal Hill called.. “The Soup Kitchen” (I know). He later opened a second location in the exciting new 1980 Harborplace development and later branched out into barbeque.

Following the trajectory of Brokke’s restaurants (and eventual advisable name changes) leads to documentation of the vicissitudes of Harborplace since its opening in 1980. Baltimore was abuzz with high hopes for this pocket of commerce. The press followed up occasionally as it experienced seasonal slumps in winter, business turnover and eventual stability.

1980, Baltimore Sun

“Wayne Brokke, proprietor of Wayne’s Bar- B-Que and one of the harbor’s original merchants, told me that Harborplace had experienced ups and downs over the past two decades. After an initial surge of success there was a period, about 10 years ago, when restaurants were closing and things were looking sketchy, he said. But in the past three years business has been on an upswing, he said, and now the harbor is booming – literally. As Brokke spoke, the Pride of Baltimore II fired its cannon, its way of saying good- bye to the crowd on the docks. “ – Rob Kasper, Baltimore Sun, 2000

Most Baltimoreans don’t spend much time in the Harbor, and I don’t actually remember Wayne’s Bar-B-Que. Sun reviews range from considering Wayne Brokke to be a fixture and a culinary master, to dismissing his restaurants for being too “trendy” and his cooking “a joke.” After reading these reviews plus stories about the various lean times and rent hikes, I shared in Brokke’s relief at leaving the industry.

Harborplace ad featuring Wayne Brokke front left

In a Baltimore magazine article he lamented the high rents and unoriginal shopping options left at Harborplace.

“Over the years, what was Baltimore’s main street got turned into just another mall,” says Wayne Brokke, who ran Harborplace eateries, like Wayne’s Bar-B-Que, for 23 years

“In the early going, the Rouse company celebrated the tenants and appreciated how we all put our blood, sweat, and tears in there,” Brokke says. “After a while, they shifted focus more to the bottom line.” – Brennen Jensen, Baltimore Magazine, 2010

According to a 2007 article updating his whereabouts, he was dabbling in commercial acting, real-estate and earning a philosophy degree from UMBC. During the 1990s, Brokke had also done a cooking segment on WBAL-TV. Readers, if you have recordings of this please do share.

Since Wayne Brokke is most famous for his soups – award winning crab soup being foremost- I made a soup recipe that he declared to be a “favorite of Mayor Schafer.” We had some broccoli from the CSA so “Broccoli Crab Soup” seemed as good as any.

I felt some reservation buying crabmeat, considering that I could have simply made this recipe without but I must say that the addition was DELICIOUS. This soup was so good, so wonderfully rich, and the crab flavor spread throughout to really enhance the dish.

As soups often do, it improved the next day. There was no day after that because we ate it all.

Recipe:

1 lb crab meat
4 cups stock
2 Cups half-and-half
1 lb chopped broccoli
1 cup chopped onion
1 tablespoon curry powder
2 teaspoons chopped garlic
1 stick of butter
4 oz flour
1 Teaspoon hot sauce
a few drops of Maggi (my addition – optional)
salt
black pepper

Sauté chopped onion in butter with Maggi (if using) until onions are translucent. Add curry powder and garlic and stir to combine. On medium heat, add flour and stir a few minutes until smooth. Gradually add stock, whisking to combine. Bring almost to a boil and stir in broccoli. Cook for 15 minutes. Add half-and-half and bring to a simmer. Stir in hot sauce and add salt and pepper to taste before gently folding in crab meat. Allow to simmer for about 5-10 minutes. Serve hot.

Recipe adapted from “I Can Cook, You Can Cook!” by Wayne Brokke