A Fish Story

     Take a look at the menu at virtually any coastal New England restaurant and no doubt you will find scrod.  But what it actually is has remained the subject of discussion and debate for over two hundred years.  And there are even serious differences as to what the term itself means.

     Most agree that is in reality an acronym and not a specific kind of fish, describing any number of whitefish that could appear on your plate, sort of a catch all (no pun intended) for the catch of the day.  So in advance of knowing what the local fishmonger might deliver, the restaurant would have scrod listed to cover their bases.  But there again, opinions vary as to what S.C.R.O.D. stands for.  Here are some of the possibilities:

Seaman's Catch Received on Deck

Small Cod Remaining on Dock

Select Catch Received on the Day

Special Catch Recorded on Day

 

   Others insist that the term originates from the Dutch word schroot, meaning "to cut off," or perhaps schrod, "to fillet."  Still another possible translation comes from the Cornish dialect referring to scrawed, a method of cooking fish where it is split, deboned then salted and dried for a day before being roasted in a hot pan with butter.

 

     So whether it is cod, haddock or some other whitefish, it is generally agreed upon that it is a small fish that has been splayed and filleted before cooking.  The end result is the same in any event.  It makes a delicious meal for those who like seafood.

 



A Real Meal

     In a gritty, blue collar section of South Boston sits Victoria's Diner.  It's not near any historical landmarks and tourists probably have no reason to stop in for a meal at 1024 Massachusetts Avenue.  Perhaps the only claim to fame is that it is just around the corner from the administrative headquarters of the Boston Fire Department.

 

     But the day I visited around noon it was bustling with activity, every seat at the counter was taken and most of the booths were full.  I was warmly greeted by the hostess and cheerfully given a menu by a young waitress.  It was indeed service with a smile, something that was noticeably absent from some of the posh places downtown.  I had learned of the place from a friend of the owners, Damian & Sheree Marciante, and went to meet them and give greetings from The Keystone State.  But it was their day off and I missed the opportunity to make their acquaintance.

 

     In looking over the brand new menu just initiated that day I found some old favorites and things with a new twist.  But being the traditionalist that I am I ordered up some clam chowder and a grilled Cuban sandwich for my meal.  It was honest to goodness, stick to your ribs good American food that didn't break the bank.  I lingered over my meal as I reviewed my city map and plotted my next adventure.  And with the kind advice of the waitress, eventually made my way to venerable Fenway Park.

Abbondanza!

     Still looking for my first good meal in Boston I consulted the travel guide in my room.  Among the eateries recommended was one called Giacomo's in the North End.  Firing up the GPS app on my iPad I discovered that it was literally just around the corner in the restaurant district of Little Italy.  But reading further I learned that they do not take either credit cards or reservations and that there is usually a line out the door waiting for a table, even on a week night.

 

     So I quickly made my way there at 5:30 and was fortunate to be seated at the last table available in the cramped dining room.  The place was indeed cozy and if you didn't know the diners sitting next to you when you sat down, you certainly did by the end of the meal.  There are only 42 seats in the small room that overlooks the open kitchen.  Everyone there can actually watch their meal being prepared and it is quite an experience.  I ordered the fruitta di mare, fruit of the sea, an amazing assortment of seafood served with linguine and red sauce.  Everything was cooked to perfection.  The shrimp and scallops were tender as were the mussels and clams, not rubbery from overcooking.  And the calamari was delicate, just like the chunks of fish.  It was a sumptuous feast and all for only $19.

 

     And just as the guide book warned, as I waddled my way out the door, there was a line down the street waiting for my table.



Historic Tourist Trap

     Faneuil Hall  was constructed in 1742 as Boston's first public market.  Farmers and merchants from the area used the facility to sell their produce and foodstuffs to the city's residents.  Eventually the building became inadequate for the demand and Quincy Market was built on a landfill to provide supplemental retail space in 1824.  (65% of Boston is built on landfill).  That seemed to suffice for over a century.  But then in the 1970's the meat and produce purveyors decided to move to larger and more modern facilities and the two buildings fell into disrepair.

     But with a combination of private and public funds developers resurrected the buildings, along with adjoining North and South Market and in 1976 was reopened.  Now the space is filled with more than 14 restaurants, 50 speciality shops and business offices.  There are 40 food court stalls offering a plethora of cuisines serving up gyros, lobster rolls, pizza, cupcakes, smoothies, wraps and even Philly Cheesesteaks.  But when I questioned the staff whether they were using Amoroso rolls with the steak sandwiches they just gave me a quizzical look.

     I went there immediately after checking in to my accommodations in the North End hoping to get an authentic Yankee meal.  But I was sorely disappointed to find little to entice my palate.  What I did find was store after store of National brands like Gap, Victoria's Secret, Starbucks, Crate & Barrel, Coach and even Harley-Davidson.  And the advertised "artisan pushcarts" were laden with nothing more than cheap trinkets made in China and stamped with the Bean Town moniker.  The food court was overcrowded with school kids and bus tour patrons.  Seating in the bi-level central rotunda was inadequate and there was no WiFi.  And to add insult to injury the adjacent parking garage charged the full daily rate of $39 after only 80 minutes.  The food was sadly reheated and woefully overpriced but the throng that packed the place didn't seem to mind.

     It was an ignominious beginning to my culinary exploration of historic Boston.

Bean Town

     Boston has the culinary nickname of "Bean Town."  Every restaurant in the city will no doubt have on it's menu a tribute to this dish.  But there are probably as many recipes for Boston Baked Beans as there are ethnic groups living there,  each one with their own version of the slow cooked beans.  The French have a cassoulet, the English pease porridge,  and the Italians pasta fagiole.

     The original recipe came from the native Americans who inhabited New England and cooked their beans in bear fat and maple syrup, placed in an earthenware pot that was set into the ground and covered with ash.  The colonial Puritans adapted this version to abide by their strict adherence to religious laws forbidding work of any kind, including cooking, on the Sabbath, from sundown Saturday to the same time on Sunday.  They would mix beans with molasses and bake them in a pot beginning early Saturday morning and leave it to cook slowly all day until being served that evening.  Leftovers would be eaten for breakfast and lunch on Sunday after being left in the still warm brick ovens overnight.

 

     It is interesting to note that Boston also has a connection to one of the main ingredients, molasses.  Cane sugar was shipped there from the West Indies to be converted into the gooey substance before being distilled into rum and sent back.  Stories are still told of the faint sweet aroma of molasses that lingers on hot summer days in the North End.  It was there that a 2.5 million gallon tank of the stuff exploded on January 15, 1919 and ran through the streets at 35 miles an hour, killing 21 people and injuring another 150.  For a photograph and more information of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919 click on the highlighted title and scroll down to the story.

     Here is an authentic recipe for Boston Baked Beans as found in The Union Oyster House Cookbook:

 

Ingredients
1 pound dried whit pea or Navy beans
3 ounces diced salt pork
1 cup diced onion
2 cups tomato juice
1 cup molasses
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon mustard
1 tablespoon garlic powder

1.  Cover beans with 2 quarts cold water and soak 12 hours or overnight.  Drain.
2.  Preheat oven to 325F.  In a large stock pot, cook salt pork over medium heat until rendered.
3.  Add the onion and cook until tender.  Add tomato juice, molasses, sugar, mustard, and garlic powder.  Mix well.  Add beans and enough water so that the beans are covered by about 1 inch of liquid.
4.  Bring to a boil, then remove from heat and place in the oven, covered.  Bake for 2 hours, stirring occasionally, or until beans are soft and sauce has thickened.  Add more liquid if beans begin to dry out.  If you'd like a slightly crusty top, remove the cover for the last half hour.

Serves 8

Just Desserts

     Before continuing on my culinary journey through New England, I'd like to mention something about a potential Philly favorite that I made for our Easter dinner dessert.  My ever expanding 3 ring binder of recipes has a section exclusively for desserts.  Although I am admittedly not a very good baker, I thought that the one titled Philadelphia Fruit Pizza looked particularly good, easy to make, and somewhat healthy, being that it has a lot of fresh fruit on top.

     So on Easter morn I began to assemble the components that I had already purchased to attempt this grande finale to our meal.  I got out all the fruit that was in the 'frig: kiwi, strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, blackberry, and some canned mandarin orange sections.  Everything received a good rinsing and I was ready to build the base.  While the Philadelphia Cream Cheese was softening on the counter I heated up the oven and prepared my spring form pan with parchment paper and carefully sliced up a roll of refrigerated sugar cookie dough and formed into into the bottom of the pan.  It baked according to directions and then was set out to cool completely.  Next I combined the softened cream cheese with some sugar and home made vanilla and whipped it up until smooth.  When the pizza "crust" was cool enough I applied the cream cheese mixture then artfully applied the fruit on top.  The final layer was a glaze made from apricot preserves and a little water then brushed carefully on each piece of fruit.

     The hard part was now complete.  All I had to do was find a place in the refrigerator to allow the pizza to chill for 2 hours. 

     It was indeed the crowning glory of the meal.  And yes, it did have 280 calories per slice and 13 grams of fat (6 of them saturated) and 210 mg of sodium.  But with the fruit it also provided lots of vitamin A & C, and iron, protein and fiber.  But it was a once a year special treat.  And you know what?  It tasted even better last night as a snack before bed!!!

Poquahock

     Last week I listed some of the foods unique to New England and I received more than one inquiry as to what exactly "stuffies" were.  My response was simple.  They are made from quahogs.  As you might imagine, that led to another question, "What are quahogs?"  Gee, I thought everyone knew that.
    
     It was over 4 decades ago that I was introduced to the edible marine bivalve mollusk that lives just below the sandy shores of the New England coastline.  It is the largest of a variety of hard clams that ranges from the miniscule countnecks through the littlenecks and topnecks to the cherrystone and finally the rather large quahog, or chowder clam.  I would head out with a clam rake at Point Judith to dig for them when I was a youth counselor at Camp Canonicus in Rhode Island, the same summer that Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.

      Quahogs are marine animals, yet they cannot survive in water with the salinity of the Atlantic Ocean and tend to live in the bays and shorelines  from Prince Edward Island to the Jersey shore, particularly Rhode Island where the waters are not as salty.  The name is derived from the Naragansett Indian word poquahock which translates as "wages" in English.  That is due to their value and worth, being used as money or wampum among certain Indian tribes in New England.  Many quahogs have distinctive shell patterns like the ones harvested along the shoreline in Wellfleet, MA.  Their lines are in a "W" pattern across the shell.

     Here is a recipe for you to try for Stuffed Spicy Quahogs, or "Stuffies"