In 1948, three recipes of the wife of one Robert Valliant appeared in the now-legendary community cookbook, one that has seen many reprints over the years: “A Cook’s Tour of the Eastern Shore.” The Valliant family lineage is so enmeshed into Maryland’s lower Eastern Shore that it was hard to determine which Robert Valliant I might be looking into.
Mrs. Valliant’s contributions to the book were for Oyster Bisque, Fried Oysters, and for Oysters and Macaroni Au Gratin.
These choices, along with the timing of the publication of the cookbook, lead me to believe the contributor was Grace Marie Moore Valliant, wife of Robert T. Valliant, who ran the oyster packing company named after his uncle, W.H. Valliant.
The Valliant family was and is involved in many prominent positions spreading out from the Oxford-Bellevue area, from postmaster to chamber of commerce to mayor.
Marie Grace Moore was born in Woodside Delaware in 1915. In 1938, she married Robert T. Valliant, Sr., the son of Jeramiah Valliant, who was involved in farming and who was the “Bro.” of “W.H. Valliant & Bro. Packing Co.”
“Mr. W. B. Burke of this city has the reputation of preparing the very best spiced oysters which leave our market, and if all are like the can which he left with us on Tuesday, his reputation is well deserved. They are truly a delightful article… He will forward them according to order to any part of the city or the U. States.” – The Baltimore Sun, 1839
In 4th or 5th grade, my class took a field trip to the Museum of Industry. It was one of the more memorable school field trips – especially the part where we lived out a day in the life of an oyster cannery. Innocent tomfoolery reflected real-life situations – kids smugly docked each-others pay for “contamination,” the “big boss” sat in an office and did very little for the most ‘pay’, everyone irritated the hell out of each other. At the end of it all, we took home an ‘oyster can’ of the clay blobs we’d steamed and packaged. I kept that can for a really long time, occasionally handling it to admire its old-timey label.
Love or hate them, its impossible to envision a Baltimore without oysters. The booming and often violent trade touched everyone in the region from the families who labored in the plants to the aristocratic epicures who couldn’t have a feast without them- on down to the dogs and rats picking over the shells in the city’s garbage-filled alleys.
Baltimore Oysters advertised in a Cleveland, Ohio newspaper, 1858
With advances in harvesting and canning, Chesapeake Bay oysters could be had far and wide. An 1879 newspaper ad from Deadwood, South Dakota advertised a surprising range of foodstuffs for a town that was considered “lawless”: Spanish olives, capers, curry powder, coconut, gelatin, chocolate, French mushrooms, New Orleans shrimp, and spiced oysters.
“Spiced oysters” being the same thing as “pickled oysters,” I’d assumed that these must be some vinegary, fermented concoction approaching fish sauce. This sounded like just the perfect somewhat repulsive thing to make when I recently interviewed for Atlas Obscura.
When I took closer look at the recipes, I was surprised to find very little vinegar included in most of them. The vinegar might give the oysters a little leeway in travel time, but pickled oysters turned out to be just another way to enjoy them – and a way for some of the many oyster packing companies in Baltimore to distinguish their product.
W. B. Burke operated one such business, and his spiced oysters were beloved by the Baltimore Sun. This could be because he more or less bribed the staff with free product. In December of 1840 they reported receiving two cans as a “Christmas Presents” (quotes used in the original.) “We have not tried them yet,” wrote the Sun, but “we do not hesitate to recommend persons in want of good spiced oysters give him a call.”
“Man with a derby hat stands atop a mound of oyster shells outside the C.H. Pearson & Company oyster cannery,” Baltimore, c. 1890
Despite being a common item offered by oyster canneries, no 19th-century Maryland cookbook was complete without a few recipes for “Spiced” or “Pickled” Oysters. Recipes appear in published books as well as manuscripts. The quantity of oysters is typically in the gallon range, with anywhere from a few tablespoons to a pint of vinegar.
Rather than serving as a condiment, spiced oysters were typically sent to the table along with other dishes like roast ham, chicken croquettes, olives, bananas, and champagne. The 1883 Chicago Cooking School cookbook mentions that spiced oysters can substitute for fresh ones in a salad with cabbage, celery, and mayonnaise dressing. It is possible that they could be used in recipes where oysters were used to stuff meats. (This is how I’m using them.)
Even if they’re not fermented and shelf-stable, the idea of pickled oysters elicited cringes from several friends of mine. As a non-convert myself, I have to assume that part of the appeal of voracious oyster appreciation comes from their very grossness. Pickled oysters may be due for a comeback. What better way to one-up everyone in your adventurousness?
“A century ago in old New England and New York a bowl of piping hot oyster stew formed the traditional Christmas Eve supper, now practiced only by a few families who have preserved the tradition along with grandmother’s Chippendale and pewter… The homemakers of today would do well to revive this custom for the oyster has a happy way of inducing sleep of the deep and restful kind. Then too, it is easy to prepare, requires no expensive ingredients, no left overs striving for a corner in a refrigerator filled with Christmas foods. And then too, the ease with which the stew is digested may well prepare you to do justice to that Christmas dinner.” – Denton Journal, 1937
One of the main goals of Old Line Plate the blog is to highlight some of the less famed aspects of Maryland cuisine. Still, I probably deserve a slap on the wrist for under-representing the oyster. Crab may be king when it comes to Maryland seafood (or Maryland food, period) these days, but there can be no denying that the Maryland seafood industry was built upon the value of the oyster.
In fact, the most common recipe in my Old Line Plate database, by far, is for “Oyster Stew” (or “Stewed Oysters”). Coming in a distant second is recipes for “Jumbles” (including Waverly and Sotterly).
To get into the holiday spirit I thought I may as well take a crack at oyster stew. But where to begin? Almost all of the recipes are very similar. Variations occur in the use of fats or bacon, cream versus milk, flour as thickener, and of course seasonings. I knew that no matter what route I took I’d be disgracing someone’s sense of authenticity so I just winged it. I kept a few different versions on hand for reference.
One thing that really confused me was the way some recipes would cook the oysters in their liquor whereas some prescribed draining the liquor altogether. Keeping the precious oyster liquor made sense to me. Finally, an 1890 housekeeping advice book clarified a possible reason for this variance.
“When canned oysters are used, which is generally the case away from the sea-coast, do not use the liquor, but if fresh oysters can be had the liquor should always be used.” – “Home Dissertations,” published by Baltimore importers and grocers Hopper and McGaw.
It is worth noting that even in 1890, the “r” month wisdom was being dismissed as out-dated.
I said yes to bacon, onion and celery. So what of seasoning? To keep the 1890s vibe I skipped Old Bay in favor of its predecessor, “Kitchen Pepper.” Each cook would have their own unique combination for kitchen pepper. Mine contained mace, ginger, white pepper, nutmeg and a small amount of cinnamon.
Kitchen Pepper, “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen,” Mrs. B.C. Howard
The tradition of eating oyster stew on Christmas is said to stem from a Catholic observance of abstaining from meat on that holiday. If that is true then the craze for oyster stew did not take long to spread throughout the region – “Fifty Years in a Maryland Kitchen” alone contains five different recipes.
I intend to revive the Oyster Stew on Christmas tradition. Serving up oysters to loved ones feels like a duty if “Home Dissertations” is to be believed:
“By taking oysters daily, indigestion, supposed to be almost incurable, has been cured; in fact they are to be regarded as one of the most healthful articles of food known to man. Invalids who have found all other kinds of food disagree with them, frequently discover in the oyster the required aliment. Raw oysters are highly recommended for hoarseness. Many of the leading vocalists use them regularly before concerts and operas; but their strongest recommendation is the remarkable wholesome influence exerted upon the digestive organs.”
Recipe:
1 pint oysters
4 slices of bacon
2 cups half and half or milk, scalded
Celery, diced
Onion, diced
Paprika, seafood seasoning, etc
Worcestershire
1-2 tb flour
Cook oysters in their own liquor until edges curl.
Strain oysters and combine liquor with milk on stove and heat to scald but do not boil.
Cook bacon until crispy reserving 1-2 tb of the grease if desired.
Sauté celery and onions in bacon grease or butter in soup pot until fragrant and softened. Sprinkle flour over and stir in; add milk and continue to simmer but do not boil. Stir in seasonings and oysters.
Ladle into bowls and garnish with chopped bacon, oyster crackers or toasted bread, seafood seasoning or paprika… whatever you want really.
This recipe comes from a popular cookbook produced by the Maryland Seafood Marketing Authority.
First produced in 1974, the book was developed with the aid of “state seafood home economist” Beverly Butler in order to “expand the role of the Chesapeake Bay seafood industry as a major contributor to the state’s economy.”
At the time, the seafood industry was reeling (oops no pun intended) from 1972 Hurricane Agnes’ devastating effects, particularly on the clam population.
Early editions of the book feature a 70′s looking cover that shows a pot brimming with uncooked mixed seafood sitting in the sand on a beach, and a sexy lady standing in the water in the background. Throughout the book she can be found clamming in short shorts, posing in the surf, and finally relaxing by a beach bonfire.
The 1980s reprints did away with this lady and created a unified design scheme throughout the first book and the two slightly-less-popular follow-ups. They also discontinued encouraging people to consume rockfish, since it was banned – instead, consumers were guided towards bluefish, shark and even squid.
All three books are available in a bundle on Maryland DNRs website, currently for $15. If you want the 1970s eye candy, you could always find a used copy online. The slim volumes don’t take up too much space on a bookshelf and make a decent reference. Maryland Seafood Cookbook is how I learned about steaming shad so you could eat the bones.
There is some very useful information in these books, but for the love of god, please PLEASE don’t consider the microwave a viable way to cook a crab cake.
2/3 cup dry breadcrumbs (I used House Autry spicy & it was great!)
6 slices bacon
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp lemon & pepper seasoning
1 heaping teaspoon chopped chives
Paprika, for garnish
In a small bowl, beat 1 egg. Put flour in a separate bowl. Spread ½ of breadcrums onto about a square foot of waxed paper. Dip each oyster in flour, then in egg, then place on breadcrums. Sprinkle remaining breadcrumbs over top of oysters and set aside.
Fry bacon until crisp, in 12″ skillet. Remove bacon & drain off most of the grease. Add oysters to the pan in a single layer and cook on each side until golden brown, about 5 minutes.
Beat remaining eggs until foamy and add chopped/crumbled bacon, plus remaining seasonings. Pour mixture over oysters and cook until eggs begin to set. With a spatula, lift up the edges of the omelet and tilt the skillet to allow uncooked egg mixture to run under omelet. Cook until all eggs are set but moist.
Marylanders love our watermen. They bring us crabs, after all. But for the most part our images of these people have crystallized into an idealized amalgam created from 50-year old photographs, crab-shack signs and stereotypes. The photography of Jay Fleming has been a welcome vehicle to update those images and to ponder the life and labor that goes into putting crab-cakes (and more) onto Maryland tables. If you’re on Facebook you may have seen his frequently-shared photos, capturing moments of the workdays on the water and in the picking-plants, as well as under the sea (or bay as the case may be).
As a wannabe-historian I’m grateful for a window into this part of the food system and the economy of our state (among others).
This body of work is slated for publication this fall in Fleming’s first book “Working the Water.” Coming soon to a coffee table near you. I asked Jay a few questions, thereby creating the opportunity to put some good photography on this blog, for once.
‘Hunting for ducks and geese in the marshes of Dorchester County’
Growing up in Annapolis with a parent working for DNR, Fleming got engaged from an early age with the outdoors through hiking, fishing, and sailing. “Photography gave me a purpose,” he says, “for seeing different parts of the bay and exploring and documenting and sharing that with other people.”
‘A egg bearing female crab crawls across a oyster bar in the shallows near Cape Charles, Virginia’
In 2013, after building an impressive portfolio of commercial and wildlife photography, he focused close-to-home on a project documenting the journey of Chesapeake Bay seafood from the depths of the bay to the processing plants.
“The book is a photographic documentary of the Chesapeake seafood industry and show[s] all the different fisheries that exist on the Chesapeake Bay, the processing of seafood, and the people who are involved in it as well as the natural environment. I’m trying to create an all-encompassing vignette of the seafood industry.”
‘Oyster shucking at a seafood packing house on Virginia’s Northern Neck’
Fleming’s balance of art and documentation recalls the beloved work of Aubrey Bodine and other Sun photographers of the past. But the world shown in Fleming’s photos has changed quite a bit since those analog black-and-white images.
“Documentation of the seafood industry hasn’t been done for a long time and those older pictures inspired me because I’m born and raised in Annapolis, which used to be a huge port for seafood, there used to be quite a few picking houses, oyster shucking houses, and skipjacks used to tie up in Annapolis and now none of that exists and there’s only a handful of watermen that live here.”
‘Working the shorelines of coves and creeks in the Choptank River for oysters ‘
Before embarking on the project, Fleming, like many Marylanders, had misconceptions about what is and isn’t changing in the industry. “If you look at those pictures from the 60’s and 70’s, even the 80’s, you would think that the seafood industry was completely gone. I had a notion that there were very few watermen left on the Chesapeake Bay but I learned that it is still very vibrant and active. In some areas it is the main source of income for a lot of people. Going to the Eastern Shore and seeing these places like Tangier [Island] which are truly working communities you get a sense that [the industry] is alive and… somewhat well.”
Which is to say it’s not an easy life. “For the watermen and people in the packing houses, their way of life is dependent on natural resources and the environment. That stuff is out of anybody’s control. It’s a way of life that’s a lot different than most people are used to.”
In addition to the ever-fluctuating crab populations, watermen have to contend with regulations, which, while aimed at long-term preservation of their industry and the resources it depends on, may sometimes leave career fishermen feeling like they’re subject to extra scrutiny.
Despite this, after some hesitations from wary watermen, he has been welcomed into their workplace. “Ultimately people understood that I was not trying to portray the industry in a negative light and that I was interested in what they were doing, and I’m hoping that my photographs can help people understand local seafood.”
Diamondback terrapin in eel grass
Fleming’s background in wildlife photography shines in photos that offer viewers a rare glimpse into the murky grasses of the bay. We get an up close view of crab neighborhood and grassy boudoir. “Most of my underwater photography on the bay is done between mid-April and the end of May. Once the water tops 65 degrees, algae will start to bloom and reduce water clarity.”
This is not to say the collection doesn’t include photos of the dazzling sunsets over the bay, handsome ships, and bucolic fishing communities.
‘Annapolis crab potter, Brian Walton, picks up crab pots at Hacketts Point near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.’
“I love so much stuff on the water like these coastal towns like Crisfield and Solomon’s Island. They have so much history involved. The Chesapeake has a lot of shoreline, all these little towns are very different and very unique and all the people are different.”
His favorite Maryland dish? “Soft crabs. I love fried soft crabs.”
“Part of the fun for me is [that] i go to these places and I get to bring back soft crabs, or rockfish, oysters… One of my goals is to help people make that connection with their food and who’s handling it. A lot of people are really disconnected from their food. I enjoy knowing where my food comes from and making that connection. It makes it more meaningful.”
‘A Yellow Lab poses on the stern of a Tilghman Island crab potting boat’
