Cup o' Joe
Food, travel, and news on the Chesapeake Bay
Shell Game: Eh, Gads, I Made Turtle Soup!
I made a classic Maryland recipe over the weekend: turtle soup. What possessed me to do such a thing? Actually, it was all in the name of duty. Our Traveling Gourmet, Mary Zajac, is writing an article for our sister publication, Style Magazine, on old Maryland recipes. She whipped up some crab cakes, Maryland fried chicken, corn fritters, stewed tomatoes, beaten biscuits and a Smith Island cake, among other delicacies, and invited 13 adventurous eaters over for dinner. We drank Maryland wines and beer and talked about culinary times of old. Oddly, not everyone wanted to try my turtle soup.
This was not diamondback terrapin soup, mind you. I made the soup from 5 pounds of frozen snapper turtle sourced from Martin’s Seafood in Jessup, Md.—the only place I could find turtle meat after a long search. It was apparently from a “turtle farm” somewhere in Louisiana. I brought it back to work and stashed in the refrigerator. (People look at you funny when you’re carrying a big mysterious bag of frozen brownish stuff. I didn’t tell anyone what was actually in the bag and luckily, no one mistook it for their lunch.)
So I brought the bag home, much to the consternation of my wife. She promptly left the room—and took the children as far away as possible.
If you’ve ever diced 5 pounds of turtle meat, you know what a tedious—and messy—process it is. They say that turtle contains seven different types of meat, and after spending nearly an hour cutting the thing up, I can concur. I will spare you the gory details—if you’ve even decided to read this far—but turtle meat is a weird combination of gristle, fat, tough, tender, and spongy meat in colors ranging from white to pink to blood red. Really, it’s nothing like I had ever experienced.
My recipe came from the Tidewater Inn’s old Restaurant Local. We had published Chef Richard Hamilton’s recipe previously in Chesapeake Life, and being a big fan of his soup, I thought I’d give it a try. Besides, the recipe called for an entire bottle of dry sherry, which sounded good to me.
So how did it turn out? Not bad. Add a little sherry to anything and it’ll taste good, I say. Unfortunately, I have lots of leftovers. Let me know if you’d like to try a bowl cause it’ll be a long time before my wife lets me bring home turtle meat again.
Comments (0)
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 08/30/10 at 02:48 PM
This weekend is a big one in the history of Tangier Island. On August 29, the island’s new $1.4 million health clinic will be dedicated. It’s a long time coming for the people of this isolated Bay island, a story Kessler Burnett so eloquently told in our December 2006 issue.
But the happiness of Tangier’s populace is tempered by the news that their physician—Dr. David Nichols, a selfless man who has flown to Tangier Island every Thursday from his home in White Stone, Va., for the last 30 years—is dying of cancer. According to an article in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, he only has four months or so left.
I can’t imagine how the Nichols’ family—and the people of Tangier Island—must be feeling at this time. This is a guy who has literally saved countless lives on the remote island. In a place where food has to brought in by boat several times a week, medical supplies are at a premium. Numerous physicians have come and gone since the clinic was established in the 1950s. “Sometimes it’s intense, but I love the people,” Nichols told Chesapeake Life four years ago. “They’re all so familiar to me now and appreciative. They give me hugs and kisses and food. They’re fiercely independent people who don’t beg. They’re always appreciative of people doing things for them. I just hope we can provide them with a better place for healthcare. No matter what, I plan to keep doing this as long as I’m needed.”
And the feeling was mutual: “He’s been coming here since I was a little girl,” resident Jamie Bradshaw told the Times-Dispatch. “I don’t know what we’d do without him. I can’t even describe in words what he’s meant to all of us.”
Several years ago, I was on Tangier Island researching another story when an old building was razed to make room for the new clinic. I stood with 20 or so other islanders watching a bulldozer take down the building’s shell. “It’ll be good to finally have a new clinic,” a woman told me. “Dr. Nichols will finally have a proper place [to practice].”
Not that the facility mattered so much to Nichols, who was awarded the Country Doctor of the Year in 2006, and just last year was featured in a major national article in Parade Magazine. For him it was always about the island—and its hardy breed of people.
“I have a saying,” he told Chesapeake Life. “When you’re on Tangier Island, you’re a little closer to heaven.”
And, surely, so is Dr. Nichols.
Comments (0)
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 08/25/10 at 12:15 PM
Here at Cup o’ Joe, we’re always looking for a good deal. With that in mind, I stopped by The Backburner, a cozy little consignment shop in Eastport, to check out the offerings. The Backburner is the brainchild of Annie Hilliard, a 24-year-old entrepreneur with a love of kitchen accoutrements. So what does she do? The recent college grad opens a store that only sells consigned kitchen gadgets, cookbooks, and the like. As far as I know it’s only of its kind in the region, if not the country. (Can anyone else let me know of another?)
The space occupies the three rear rooms of a historic house. The old pantry is now filled with bookshelves holding cookbooks, a pizzelle-maker ($25), a basting gun ($5), and a deluxe model KitchenAid mixer for $199. (“It sells new for $299,” Hilliard informs me.)
The house’s old dining room boasts a mix of used goods for entertaining, from Fiestaware to antique glassware to funky, colorful aprons hand-stitched by Hilliard’s mother.
Hilliard tells me customers and consignors, range from older folks who are looking to downsize to younger transplants looking for a bargain. There’s a healthy helping of tourists, too. Consignors get 40 percent of the final sale price or 50 percent if the item fetches more than $150.
Generally, I found the prices pretty decent and the selection of goods definitely eclectic. Besides, for lovers of kitchen paraphernalia, The Backburner is a unique find unto itself.
Check the website for an abbreviated listing of current items, upcoming events, and terms and conditions.
915 Bay Ridge Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland, 21403, 410-591-2108
Comments (0)
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 08/13/10 at 11:25 AM
Masthead Photo by