Cobb Island IPA

It was originally named Sand Shoal Island until it was purchased by Nathan Cobb for 100 bags of salt in 1939. The island was then renamed Cobb Island. It has always been one of the barrier islands along the eastern shore of Virginia. Nathan Cobb built a resort on the island and, with his sons, he was  known to "splice the main brace" with the rich and famous who would come and stay at the Cobb Island Hotel. That was until the hotel was washed away in 1893. By 1933, the rest of the residents retreated to the mainland. Cobb Isladn was once again deserted. 

For me, the mention of Cobb Island has some other meanings. During our most recent vacation on the eastern shore of Virginia, we visited the Virginia Institute of Marine Science, where we learned about the efforts to restore a locally extinct species ... the bay scallop. Once of the areas that they have focused their work is Cobb Bay, which is the brackish water near Cobb Island. The scientists and researchers first restored the seagrasses in the area, and then they followed with the re-introduction of the bay scallop. Their efforts have been successful, bringing bay scallop populations to the point where there might be a recreational fishery in the near future. 

The brewers at Cape Charles Brewery give a nod to this history, along with the island itself, with their Cobb Island India Pale Ale. The beer is brewed in the style of a West Coast IPA: a golden hue with foam that stubbornly clings to the sides of the glass, with the centennial and cascade hops providing citrus aromas and flavor elements. Those flavor elements weigh heavily on the citrus side (as opposed to the piney side). The most readily identifiable element is grapefruit, with a little lemon on the edge. 

I have not seen this beer where I live, but I did pick up a four-pack from the brewpub in Cape Charles, Virginia. It's definitely worth the trip, not only for the beer (which is excellent), but also the award-winning wings with Miss Eve's Sweet and Spicy Sauce. Those were the best wings that I have had in a long time.

PEACE.

Quick-Pickled Radish Threads (Son Labu)

One of my favorite cookbooks is Beyond the Great Wall, a book written by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. Both Alford and Duguid explore Chinese cuisine, but not the typical cuisine that most people know and eat. Instead, they explore the cuisines of the many minorities who live throughout China.  One of those minorities is the Tibetans, whose cuisine I too have expllored from time to time.  

Alford and Duguid provide several Tibetan recipes in their cookbook. However, this particular recipe -- Tenzin's Quick-Pickled Radish Threads -- caught my attention. It may have been the reference to Tenzin, as I was watching The Legend of Korra at the time. (The show has a character named Tenzin.) It may have also been the pickled radish threads. 

Radishes -- or labu as they are referred to in Tibetan -- are grown on the Tibetan plateau. Tibetan cooks use radishes in a variety of dishes, such as stews like Labsa and soups like Thukpa. 

But the root vegetable has a very special place on the Tibetan table, as a condiment. It's known as Son Labu or Son Labhu. The Tibetans use large, long white radishes, which resemble the daikon radish. Typically, the radish is thinly sliced, combined with other ingredients (which, as with many recipes, depends upon the cook), and then submerged in rice wine vinegar for the pickle.  

The picked radish recipe found in Beyond the Great Wall differs in that it calls for grating the radish, rather than slicing it. The recipe also caught my attention for another reason: namely, the use of Sichuan peppercorns. I have used this ingredient in the past, such as to make Togarashi, Jioma Jipian, and Qiatou Yi Nen.  The numbing properties of the peppercorns adds an unusual experience with dishes, which is something that I like when I am cooking and eating. The recipe calls not only for the use of Sichuan peppercorns, but also onions, scallions, garlic and ginger, all of which provide additional flavors to the pickled radish threads. 

Son Labu is an interplay between spicy, sour and salty. As with radishes generally, this condiment can be eaten by itself as a little snack or added to dishes, like a cold noodle soup or a stir fry beef. 

Finally, this particular quick-picked radish thread recipe comes with a story from Alford and Duguid about a Tibetan named Tenzin, who prepared this recipe for the authors. For that story, you will need to buy the book. 

QUICK PICKLED RADISH THREADS (SON LABU)

Recipe from James Alford and Naomi Daguid, Beyond the Great Wall at pg. 25

Ingredients:

• 1 pound daikon radish, peeled and coarsely grated or thinly sliced
• 2 medium scallions
• 1/2 small onion, cut into thin slices
• 2 tablespoons minced ginger
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt
• 1 to 2 tablespoons minced garlic (optional)
• 1 teaspoon dry roasted Sichuan peppercorns, ground (optional)
• About 3 cups rice vinegar

Directions:

1. Prepare the radish. Place the radish, scallions, onions and ginger in a large bowl and toss to mix them well. Stuff half of the mixture in a sterilized 4 quart jar and add 1 tablespoon of the salt and garlic and/or Sichuan peppercorn if you wish. Add the remaining radish mixture and the second tablespoon of salt and pour on the vinegar, which should cover the mixture completely. Seal and shake the jar to distribute the vinegar well. 

2. Store the jar. Place in a sunny spot by the window for 2 to 4 days, giving the jar a shake occasionally to help blend the flavors. It is now ready to use. The pickle will keep indefinitely if well sealed and refrigerated.

3. Finish the dish. To serve, use a clean spoon or fork or chopsticks to lift out a clump of radish strands and place them in a condiment bowl. 

PEACE.

Grilled Beef (or Bison) Skewers

I had grand intentions of creating a dish, Grilled Bison Skewers. It is a recipe from Chef Sean Sherman that would have been part of my Beyond Borders project. Chef Sherman is someone that I have closely followed, ever since I ate at his amazing restaurant Owamni and learned about his efforts to restore indigenous foodways. My parents gave me his cookbook, The Sioux Chef's Indigenous Kitchen, as a gift, where this recipe could be found. 

One day, while I was walking through the aisles of a grocery store, I decided to make the skewers. I knew that the grocery store had bison, so all I needed was the other ingredients. I got the corn and squash, but I could not find any turnips. After some thought, I decided to substitute parsnips. As I already had a lot of sumac and smoked salt at home, I was ready to get the bison meat.

I headed over to the meat section and perused the bison. The store had bison ribeyes and bison strip steaks, both of which were very expensive. Right next to them were packages of sirloin. Thinking (incorrectly) that it was bison sirloin, I grabbed a package, especially given it was much cheaper than both the ribeyes and the strip steaks. It was not until I was in the middle of checking out that I realized that it was beef sirloin, not bison sirloin. The grand intention of creating an indigenous dish came crashing down with what would be characterized as a colonialist ingredient. (Cows were introduced to this continent by the Spanish.) I could no longer do a Beyond Borders post, because the skewers did not reflect the cuisine of the indigenous peoples.

I was very frustrated with myself. Ordinarily, this post, even with its beef, would never have seen the light of day on this blog because of my mistake. However, I have another project, The Mindfulness Foodways, where I am working to change how I approach cooking. And, here is the thing: as I thought about this project, I acknowledged that my mistake was due to inadvertence. I also recognized how fortunate I was to be able to make such a mistake. If I was in the shoes of an indigenous person who was living on a reservation (where the conditions of poverty are well documented), I would most likely not be standing in a store with the range of food before me, let alone have the ability to buy expensive ingredients, like beef. I stood in a position of privilege, which remained a position of privilege even though I sought to honor indigenous cuisine. 

As part of being mindful, I must acknowledge my privilege and the conflict that it creates within me. I want to explore and learn about the cultures and cuisines of other peoples, yet, I do not walk in their shoes when doing so. My present circumstances limit my ability to travel and learn first-hand from the people themselves. While I hope to do that someday, I am presently left with all I can do to learn about their cuisine and culture from afar. In so doing, I spend a lot of time thinking through everything I write to ensure that the proper respect is given. Perhaps that intent, as well intentioned as it is, can allow an erroneous purchase to be overlooked. 

GRILLED BEEF (OR BISON) SKEWERS

Recipe respectfully adapted from Sean Sherman, 

The Sioux Chef's Indigenous Kitchen, page 128

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

• 1 to 1 1/4 pounds of bison sirloin (preferably, or beef sirloin), cut into 1- to 2-inch cubes  
• 2 tablespoons sunflower oil
• Pinch sumac
• Pinch smoked salt
• 2 to 3 ears of sweet corn, shucked and cut into 2-inch chunks
• 2 to 4 young turnips (or parsnips), cut into 2-inch chunks 
• 3 summer squash, cut into 2-inch chunks

Directions:

1. Prepare the grill. Heat the coals or a gas grill for direct heat.

2. Prepare the skewers.  Brush the bison with 1 tablespoon of the sunflower oil and sprinkler with sumac and smoked salt.  Brush the corn, turnips and squash with the remaining oil. Thread the meat, sweet corn, turnips, and squash alternately on 4 to 6 skewers. Sprinkler the meat and vegetables with additional sumac and smoked salt.

3. Grill the skewers.  Grill the skewers about 4 to 6 inches from the heat, turning frequently, until the bison is no longer pink in the center, about 15 to 20 minutes.  Serve drizzled with wojape.

ENJOY!

Restoring Virginia's Scallops

Scallops have always been an important foodsource up and down the eastern United States. And, around 1930, the State of Virginia was perhaps the largest producer of bay scallops in the United States. Just as there were oystermen/women and crabbers plying the waters around the Delmarva, there were also scallop fishermen (and women) who plied the brackish waters between the barrier islands and the eastern shore, harvesting scallops for the local market and beyond. 

A healthy scallop fishery depends upon a few things. Perhaps the most important of which is eelgrass. This seagrass provides the habitat for young scallops to develop, as well as protection from predators, like blue crabs. Another important thing is salinity. Scallops thrive in environments with a higher salinity. Both of these factors were present along the eastern Shore of Virginia, from Chincoteague Island to South Bay, from the coast to the barrier islands, which served as a buffer to the Atlantic Ocean.

Things began to change in the early 1930s. A wasting disease began taking its toll on the eelgrass in the region. Then, in 1933, the Chesapeake-Potomac Hurricane wiped out all of the remaining eel-grass by literally moving the barrier islands to smother the seagrass beds. The entire habitat of the scallops was gone; and, with that, scallops went locally extinct in the Chesapeake Bay area. 

I was completely unaware of this history until our most recent summer vacation. I planned a family trip to Virginia's eastern shore. As I prepared our itinerary, I looked for "foodie" things to do, especially things that had a learning or experiential component. I found the website for the Virginia Institute of Marine Science (VIMS), which has an eastern shore facility in Wachapreague, Virginia. As I read the VIMS website, I realized that this would be an interesting place to visit. I reached out to arrange a tour of the Wachapreague facility. I was particularly interested in the Castagna Shellfish Hatchery, which houses the aquaculture research programs. I thought that it would be great to learn more about the overall life cycle of shellfish. This education would pair well with a tour of the Lambert Shellfish oyster farm that I had scheduled for later that day. 

What was to be a tour about how shellfish are cultivated from seed to sprat turned into so much more. It became a lesson about how we can overcome a local extinction event through commitment and hard work. And, while many have spoken on this subject (just Google "scallops" and "Virginia"), I felt compelled to add whatever I can to this important discussion.  

Part One: Restore the Habitat

VIMS actually has two facilities: one on the eastern shore in Wachapreague and another on the middle neck in Glouchester Point. This latter facility is where the lesson begins. 

VIMS's Glouchester Point facility has served as the center of research and action to restore eelgrass habits in the Chesapeake Bay and along the eastern shore. The research was led by Robert Orth, who has earned the title, "Johnny Appleseed of Seagrass." Working with researchers and staff, Robert Orth developed a program that began with transplanting eelgrass from one part of the bay to another part. Once the eelgrass took root (both figuratively and literally), then the program evolved to focus on spreading eelgrass seeds, focusing primarily on four particular areas: South Bay, Cobb Bay, Spider Crab Bay and Hog Island.

Restoring eelgrass is not like planting grass in someone's yard. Generally speaking, one has to account for a wide range of variables. Eelgrass thrives within a certain salinity range. If the salinity is too low or too high, then it won't grow. It is also particularly vulnerable to human development, with runoff and deforestation taking tolls on eelgrass meadows. In sum, for eelgrass to thrive, it requires a very healthy, balanced environment. 

VIMS has restored eelgrass in approximately nine-thousand, five huundred (9,500) acres of the Chesapeake Bay, including the four bays and lagoons that I mentioned above. It believes these efforts have led to "the most successful seagrass recovery effort in history" and it is hard to doubt that statement. (VIMS has also shown its work, which can be seen here.)  

Part Two: Restoring the Scallops

While VIMS Glouchester worked to restore the eelgras, VIMS Wachaprague worked to restore the scallop population. This work begins at the Castagna Shellfish Hatchery, which is named after Michael Castagna, the first Executive Director of VIMS's Eastern Shore Laboratory. Castagna wrote the pioneering work that serves as the foundation of hard-shell clam aquaculture. 

The hatchery's researchers and staff started the restoration process with scallop brood stock from North Carolina, specifically the Bogue and Core Sounds. They had mixed success with their initial efforts. It was only after the researchers widened their vision, introducing brood stocks from New York and Florida, that things really began to change. 

To understand the process, which as a layperson I can only describe in very general terms, researchers start with adult scallops. They adjust the environmental conditions for the scallops to prompt the reproduction cycle. Once they have achieved that objective, the researchers remove the fertilized eggs and place them in a large tank, where they oversee the scallops during their initial stages of development.  

Dedicated VIMS staff, like Hatchery Manager Reba Smith, watch over the nascent scallops, feeding them different forms of algae to help them grow. They use four different types of algae, which are maintained in a multi-colored array of carboys. The specific algae used depends on where the scallops are in their metamorphosis. 

As the scallops develop, they are moved to the nursery. Other VIMS staff, including Nursery Manager Darien Kelly, continue to oversee the scallops' metamorphosis. Kelly watches them as they develop, providing them with local creek water that contains natural plankton, while also monitoring the sediment loads in that water. As the scallops develop, their little swimmers turn into feet, which they use to affix themselves to surfaces (like eelgrass). This is how scallops differentiate themselves from other mollusks. Scallops can move around, where as oysters and mussels affix themselves to a spot permanently. Likewise, while clams have some ability to move, that is mostly digging themselves into the mud and sand for protection. Scallops can swim, a trait that helps in their development and their protection.  

While in the nursery, the scallops grow in long raceway tables. The staff continue to feed algae as they monitor the scallops until they reach their juvenile stage, which takes about 60 days to 120 days. At that point, the scallops are ready to be introduced into the "wild." The scallops are moved to ground cages in areas like the South Bay, where they can continue to grow and develop. They are also released into other areas  where VIMS has successfully re-established eelgrass habitats The young scallops use their "feet" to attach themselves to the eelgrass, which enables them to develop out of reach of many predators. 

The work of VIMS' Wachepreague facility does not end with the reintroduction of the scallops to the bay. Staff conduct annual surveys of the scallops stocks in areas like South Bay, Cobb Bay and Hogs Island, to see how the scallops are faring on their own. This survey is extensive and hard work, as staff survey large stretches of the seafloor by hand. They record their findings, as well as collect new potential broodstock that could be used to continue the process so that the scallop populations can be further increased.

Based on its studies, VIMS has determined that, since 2018, their work -- as well as the environmetnal conditions -- have enabled scallop populations to increase in certain areas along the eastern shore of Virginia. The above chart shows the general increase in scallop populations, but the rates differ by specific area. For example, scallop populations have generallly increased in both Cobb Bay and South Bay. However, in South South Bay, the scallop populations have increased at an even greater rate.

Source: Virginia Institute of Marine Sciences

And, just recently, VIMS conducted its annual survey for 2025. The survey produced more amazing results, showing that the scallop population had increased substantially over the past year. The results showed that the surveyed areas generally went from .0652 scallops per square meter to .114 scallops per square meter.  This new number bodes well for two reasons: one is known as propagule pressure, which is the point where spawning may be taking place in nature; and the second involves the potential of restoring a recreational scallop fishery. 

Overall, the important work of VIMS has done something that is truly rare: they have countered a local extinction event, bringing back an animal that had been wiped out nearly 100 years ago. This work demonstrates that we can play an important role in repairing the damage done, whether by Mother Nature or by our own hands. 

I am incredibly thankful for the staff of VIMS's Wachapreague facility, especially Managers Smith and Kelly, for taking the time out of their busy day to tell us about their work. I know that both my family and myself left the facility truly impressed with their commitment and their hard work. I hope that they continue to find success to the point that there is not only a recreational scallop activity, but a potetnial scallop fishery once again. 

PEACE.

P.S.: To learn more about VIMS, as well as the work of Managers Smith and Kelly, check out the latest from W&M News. 

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Estonia

"Kuna eestlased pole suured arvult, siis peavad nad selleks saama vaimult." 

(Since Estonians are not large in numbers, they must become so in spirit.")

-- Jakob Hurt (Estonian forklorist)

The Baltic countries have always fascinated me. Three little countries -- Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia -- each with a fierce sense of independence and solid understanding of their own identity. Those identities were born out of a shared history over the past two hundred years. As the first challenge of my Around the World in 80 Dishes in the Baltic region, I get to explore the northernmost of the three countries ... Estonia. This challenge also provides me with an opportunity to explore the Estonian culture and cuisine, which itself gives rise to a story of how an identity can awaken in the darkness of occupation, as well as survive the trip through the peaks and valleys of history. 

While the first peoples to settle in the region arrived nearly 13,000 years ago, this post will focus only on the past 250 years. Back in the mid-1800s, the Russian Empire occupied all of what constitutes present-day Estonia. Yet, the Tsarist government allowed a certain degree of localized government in the Baltic region. This autonomy primarily benefited the Germanic nobility, which had previously dominated the government and economic strutures. It also provided enough room for independent thought amongst the maarahvas (country folk) and others whose heritage was closer to Finland than Prussia or Germany. That thought coalesced around an eestlane identity. It grew around the Estonian language, with the first Estonian newspaper being published John Voldemarr Jannsen in 1857. Soon, more literary works began to emerge, including the poetry of Lydia Koidula, as well as Estonian theater. As a passage from one of Koidula's most noteworthy poems illustrates, there was a strong current of developing nationalism: 

My country is my love,

To whom I've given my heart

To you I sing, my greatest happiness,

My flowering Estonia!

Your pain boils in my heart,

Your pride and joy makes my happy,

My country, my country!

At its simplist, nationalism involves an effort to separate oneself. For the eestlane, they sought to separate themselves not just from the Germanic nobility, but also the larger Russian empire. As one could expect, the Tsarist empire was not pleased with such independent thought; and, in the 1890s, it began a russification campaign intended to bring the occupied closer in line with the occupier. For example, the Russian language replaced Estonian and German in schools and in newspapers. Yet, the Estonian identity did not die or even fade. Estonians continued to pursue their culture and develop their identity, just away from the eyes of the government. In the process, Estonians achieved the second highest literacy rate within the Russian empire. 

Russification fiurther led to an evolution in the Estonian identity, expanding it into the political sphere, as Estonians worked their way into government positions. By the time of the Russian Revolutions (of 1905 and 1917), there were Estonian political parties. With the parties came demands, including freedom of the press and freedom of speech, as well as greater autonomy and even independence. They achieved that independence between the two great wars (from 1917 until 1939), but it would take the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Soviet Union before Estonia would achieve lasting independence, which began on August 20, 1991, and continues to this day.

This quick discussion of the Estonian identity, although grounded in history, also provides the background for Estonian cuisine. While the cuisine is as eestlane as the people, history has left its mark. The influences of the Swedish, Germans, Russians and even the Finnish can be seen in the various dishes that find their way to the Estonian table. 

As for that table, Estonia has four general, regional cuisines. First, there is the northern Estonian and Tallin region, where one could find traditional dishes like verivorst (blood sausage) and a range of seafood dishes. Second, along the western shores and islands, seafood also reigns in the cuisine, with herring dishes and a black bread known as leib. Third, there is the southern Estonian region, where the dishes focus more on the land than the sea. Finally, there is the eastern Estonian region, where Russian influences can be more readily seen. The common theme that ties together all of thes regions is a simplicity in terms of ingredients and processes, reflecting the peasant origins of many of the dishes. 

APPETIZER

The start of this challenge begins with the Russian influence. It is a dish brought to Estonian by the Soviets. Shashlik are the kebabs of Central Asia, but it is the Soviets that introduced them throughout their union.  In Estonia, the skewers are made usually with pork, which is cut up, combined with onions, garlic and vinegar, and then left to marinate overnight. Once they are ready for the grill, they are skewered and grilled over charcoal (although a gas grill works just as well). 

In researching this dish, I came across an interesting description of a recent event -- Midsummer's Eve, "When the Village Folk Come Together -- at the Estonian Open Air Museum: 

Kolkhoz apartment building. It is the year 1988, and the idea of independence of Estonia has found its way to Sookuru collective farm. There was a meeting in Hirvepark in Tallinn a year earlier, the concept of self-managing Estonia is in the air, and five national patriotic songs by Alo Mattiisen are becoming more and more popular. All of it happened so fast and is hard to believe! The dwellers of the building have hung out the Estonian tricolour flag; they are singing new and old songs about the homeland and planning to organize a support group for the Popular Front of Estonia. Shashlik will be served.

While the Soviets may be gone, the skewers -- and Estonian independence -- remain.  

ESTONIAN SHASHLIK

Recipe from Nami-Nami

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 kg (2.2 pounds) of pork shoulder
• 4 large onions
• 2-3 garlic cloves, crushed
• 2 tablespoons vinegar (30% proof)
• 2 teaspoons finely ground salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon caster sugar

Directions:

1. Prepare the pork. Cut the pork into thick slices (about 1.5 to 2 centimeters, or 3/4 to 1 inch), then small chunks (4 centimeters by 4 centimeters, or 1.5 inch by 1.5 inch). Place in a large bowl. Peel the onions and cut into thin slices. Add to the bowl with the crushed garlic, salt, pepper and sugar. Sprinkle the vinegar on top. Wearing a pair of kitchen globes, massage the meat and onions for about 10-15 minutes, so the onion juices are released and the seasonings are firmly massaged into the meat chunks. Instead of dark red, the meat should be paler. Cover the bowl and marinate in the refrigerator for 24 hours.

2. Prepare the shashlik. Remove the meat from the refrigerator and let the meat come to room temperature, about 1 hour. If using wood skewers, soak the skewers for about 1 hour. Piece the meat chunks onto skewers.

3. Grill the shashlik. Prepare a charcoal fire or heat a gas grill to medium-high heat. Place the shashlik on the grill grate. Grill the shashlik for about 3-4 minutes, and turn. Repeat this process until each side is grilled and the temperature reaches 145 degrees Fahrenheit (62.8 degrees Celsius).

MAIN COURSE

The main course -- and the challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes -- is Frikadellisupp, which has been described as "the kind of soup that makes a meal." As Jennifer Eremeeva writes for the Moscow Times, "[e]fforts to pin down a 'classic' recipe for Frikadellisupp are frustrating, since the soup is nothing if not a thrifty 'sweep the fridge' improvised recipe for stretching meat into a meal, by combining it with bread, and anything else that might reach its sell-by date." 

I decided to prepare the meatballs in a slightly different manner than the recipe suggests. Instead of cooking them in the soup, I separately baked the meatballs and then added them to the soup. I did this in part because the preparation of the meatballs was a little different than other meatballs that I made. There is no filler (for example, breadcrumbs) and I feared that the meatballs would break up in the soup. By baking them first, I ensured that the meatballs would stay together in the soup. (I baked them in the oven at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes, times will vary depending upon the size of the meatballs.)

Apart from that, I could not find much describing the history of this dish. It may very well be something that has always been there, especially when times were difficult (and, for Estonia and Estonians, there were many difficult times since they achieved their independence and reclaimed it again). 

FRIKADELLISUPP

Recipe from Cook, Eat Share

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the soup):

• 3 carrots
• 1 turnip
• 1 leek
• 1 parsnip
• 2 celery sticks
• 2 medium potatoes
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2-3 tablespoons of oil
• Fresh or dried dill

Ingredients (for the meatballs):

• 1 egg
• 1 onion
• 200 grams minced meat (pork or beef)
• Salt
• Black pepper

Directions:

1.  Prepare the vegetables. Wash, peel, and chop carrots, turnip, leek, parsnip and celery into bite sized pieces. Heat an oil in a large pot over medium heat and add the chopped vegetables. Fry slightly for about 5 minutes. 

2. Prepare the soup. Add about 2 liters of water. If you would like a thicker soup, add less water and more vegetables. Bring to a boil and add the chicken stock cube or chicken broth. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.

3. Prepare the meatballs. Place the minced meat in a bowl. Finely chop the onion and add to the bowl. Add the egg, salt, black pepper and mix well (use hand or wooden spoon). Using your hands, form small balls out of the mix and place them onto a plate for later.

4. Continue to prepare the soup.  After the 30 minutes, add peeled and chopped potatoes. Simmer for a further 10 minutes and then bring the soup to a boil. Add the meatballs and boil until they surface. Right before turning off the heat, add the fresh or dried dill. 

5. Finish the dish. Once the meatballs are cooked and the vegetables are soft, the soup is ready. Serve with a slice of bread or toast. 

*     *    *

For my first foray into Baltic cuisine (and, for that matter, northern European cuisine) as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge, I think that this challenge went well.  I particularly liked the soup, and this recipe made me think abouut additional soups that I will be doing in future challenges. Until then...

PEACE.

Assateague Island IPA

Assateague Island and its modern-day parks stretch along the mid-Atlantic coast between the States of Maryland and Virginia. Yet, this island has a long history. Before the arrival of European colonists, indigenous tribes -- principally the Alquonquin-tribe known as the Kickotanks -- would come to the island to fish, crab, and hunt. Those colonists eventually arrived and displaced the indigenous peoples. The colonists brought animals for grazing, as well as hunted and fished just like the Kickotanks.

The island also has its share of interesting stories (which may or may not be true). One involves a wife that Blackbeard kept on the island, to whiom he would return after raiding vessels as well as towns along the Carolina coast. Another story involves pirates having released horses on the island, or a Spanish vessel having done the same when it ran aground. Whatever may be said about those stories, it is true that horses have been on the island for hundreds of years. 

Indeed, the Assateague ponies are one of the major tourist draws to the island, apart from the natural beauty of the island. (As an aside, human development -- including the building of resorts -- have been ultimately thwarted by nature. The horses adapted to living on the barrier island, learning to munch on the saltmarsh grasses and growing heavier coats to withstand the winds, especially in the winter. 

Assateague Island also serves as the inspiration for the brewers at Cape Charles Brewing Company for a New England-style India Pale Ale. The beer pours a hazy yellowish-gold hue, with a lot of foam at the top. As that foam recedes, the aromatic elements from the Mosaic and Citra hops begin to shine through. The notes are more citrusy, with tangerine, grapefruit and/or pineapple in the front. 

As for the taste, the beer features the citrus elements, perhaps more of the grapefruit than either tangerine or pineapple. I also sensed some piney notes arond the edges. Both the citrus and pine notes are a little more pronounced than other hazy IPAs that I have tried. Nevertheless, the beer is very good. 

The beer is available on the eastern Shore of Virginia, whether at the Cape Charles Brewpub, in stores and at restaurants. I ordered it a few times in restaurants and purchased a four pack when we visited the brewpub. It is definitely worth the purchase. 

PEACE.

Oysterfest 2025

"Gimme oysters and beer, for dinner every day of the year, and I'll be fine." 

-- Jimmy Buffett, Tin Cup Chalice

That old Jimmy Buffett song may become my theme song, especially this time of the year. One of my most favorite places in the State of Maryland -- the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum (CBMM) -- holds a festival dedicated to my favorite bivalve in the entire world ... the oyster. It is an ideal location for an oyster festival. The CBMM is located on the shore of the Miles River, just a short boat ride from the Chesapeake Bay. But, not just any part of the shore; the museum is in St. Michaels, Maryland, a city that has a long history tied to the oyster. 

We have been going to the Oysterfest since 2018, although I seemingly only wrote "book-end" posts  for my blog in 2018 and 2024. Each festival has an oyster stew competition, where several local restaurants and caterers present their very best oyster stew to be judged by the attendees, with the winner getting bragging rights for a year.  There are also a range of other events, such as an oyster slurp-off, boat rides along the Miles River, and Chesapeake Retriever demonstrations.

The Talbot Watermen Association Oyster Booth

Every year we enjoy a wide range of oysters from the different vendors.  Oysters are served by both companies, like the Choptank Oyster Company, and, the Talbot Watermen Association, who are the go-to stop for oysters. I have a special place for the Talbot Watermen Association, because of the fact that they are an association of watermen who work the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries, but are also committed to preserving not only the way of life, but also the fisheries through sustainable methods. 

Steamed Oysters

This year, I sampled some raw oysters from Choptank, but also some steamed oysters from the Talbot Watermen Association. The raw oysters were good, but, with a little grit and shell in them. However, the steamed oysters were out of this world. First, the oysters looked like they had been just harvested out of the water. Some of the oyster shells had little clam shells still on them, which are usually brushed off during processing. All of the oysters were large in size, even after the steaming process. 

I also finished off the oyster eating by participating in the Oyster Slurp Off. Three rounds of three competitors, with the winner of each round participating in the championship. I was in the first round. I won that round, but came in second in the championship. The winner used some questionable tactics, such as not raising his hand when he won and turning away when he finished. Still, I got twelve additional oysters when all was said and done, which is enough for me. 

Turning to the oyster stew competition, my beautiful Angel and I have judged several of these competitions. I am always struck by the different approaches that one can take with an oyster stew. This year's competition presented those varied recipes. There were five different oyster stews in the competition: 

Oyster Stew A: This oyster stew was more like an oyster bisque, a smooth cream base with no hint of any of the vegetables used in the recipe. This oyster stew was the only one that used only whole oysters, although they were a little on the small side. Overall, a very good effort, but I think a stew should have more texture to it. 

Oyster Stew B: My thoughts about texture were answered by this one. This entry was more of a stew, with little bits of onions and potatoes in each taste. I could also get the herbs used to prepare this stew, which is also something a little lacking in the prior one. This stew used chopped up oysters.

Oyster Stew C: It seemed my notes about texture were being heard more clearly. This entry was even chunkier, thicker and creamier. The oysters were also chopped up, but it was a little hard to find them. While it was thicker, this entry, like the prior one, did come through with the herbal elements. 

Oyster Stew D: This one took a slightly different approach. There was less of a texture, less chunks of potato or onion, but a more bacon flavor came through. The bacon added a subtle smokiness element that set this entry apart. It also used chopped oysters, but I thought I got a small whole one toward the end.

Oyster Stew E: The last one was a stew, with potatoes, onions and even corn, as well as a more yellowish color than the other entries, almost as if turmeric was used in the recipe. While this entry also used chopped oysters, the pieces were larger and more plentiful than in other stews.  

As for the judging, it was a close one for me, but I ultimately chose D as the best oyster stew. And, for the first time in all the judging that I have done, my choice was also the winner overall, as D, which is the oyster stew prepared by Oaks Waterfront Inn, took first place. Second place went to A (the more bisque like oyster stew), which was prepared by Chesapeake Chefs. Third place went to B, which was prepared by Theo's Steakhouse. In the end, I think everyone likes a little bacon hint in their oyster chowder. 

The Oysterfest is perhaps the event enjoyed the most by the  Savage Boleks. This year's event was perhaps the best Oysterfest of all. And I did not even get to the part where we learned about the Pocomoke nation, the indigenous people who lived on the eastern shore long before the area was colonized. I was very appreciative of hearing about the history and culture of the Pocomoke people from members of the nation. There will be more about that in future posts. Until then ...  

PEACE.

Akotonshi

Living in the Chesapeake Bay region, I often find myself having a parochial view about blue crabs. I know that blue crabs can be found around the world (see my post about their invasion of Italian waters), but I admittedly think very regionally about blue crabs when it comes to cooking. Bury them in Old Bay or XO and steam them. The only true crabcakes are Maryland crabcakes. It becomes ingrained in a person the longer they live in the area.

Yet, there is so much more to blue crab dishes. I previously posted about a crab dish from Ghana -- Ghanian Crab Stew -- but I spent more time talking about rice than I did blue crab. As it turns out, the crusteacean has quite the place in Ghanaian cuisine and culture. So, it seems appropriate to return to Ghana when I was looking to prepare a crab dish based upon a cuisine far beyond the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. My efforts would take me to the brackish waters in southern Ghana, such as the estuary of the Volta River, where the river waters meet the Atlantic Ocean, and the various lagoons that are parallel to that ocean.

At one point in time, there was an abundance of blue crabs, shrimp, shellfish, and fin fish in these brackish waters. These populations benefitted from mangroves, which sprouted up in various areas along the lagoons and deltas, and which provide protected areas for crabs, shellfish and fish. They also supported fisheries across southern Ghana. Those fisheries, in turn, provided incomes that sustained families from Agbletokwei to Kpotitsekopre. 

However, those fisheries have faced a range of issues in recent years. Much of the mangroves have been cut down, causing a loss of habitat for crustaceans like the blue crab. Overfishing generally, and the rise of industrial fishing and illegal fishing, have also contributed to the loss of populations, as has the increased amount of pollution from industrialization. As the populations of crab, shrimp and fish decline, so does the ability of small-scale fishermen and women to make a living and provide for their families. 

There have been efforts to try to support small scale, local fishing. For example, back in 2021, the U.S. Agency for International Development provided millions to help restore Ghanian fisheries. That program focused on sardines, mackerel and anchovies, which meant more of a focus on the Atlantic Ocean (which is still needed), than the brackish coastal waters. (The current Trump administration is trying to destroy USAID, depriving the entire world -- including the U.S. -- of the benefits from international development assistance.) More recently, in July 2025, the Ghanian government passed the Fisheries and Aquaculture Law, which helps protect small scale fishers who use traditional canoes from illegal fishing vessels. This law is also focused on the ocean, rather than the lagoons and rivers of the country. 

I hope that a more wholistic approach may be pursued, one that recognizes the interconnectedness of the rivers, lagoons and oceans, thereby addressing all of it. This effort would also require a focus not only on the water, but also the land, such as restoring the mangroves and the habitats for aquatic species, which is happening in certain parts of Ghana, like in the Keta Lagoon. These efforts have seen positive results, For an overview of what is being done in that lagoon, check out this video from Terraformation:

We have the power to undo the damage we have done, but it takes commitment and, most importantly, time.  With more mangroves come more aquatic species, like blue crabs. And, with more blue crabs come dishes like Akotonshi.

AKONTOSHI

Recipe adapted from African Food Network

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 8 whole crabs or 1 pound of cooked crab meat
• 2 large fresh ginger pieces
• 2 cloves
• 4 tablespoons cooking oil
• 2 large onions, minced
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 3-4 large tomatoes, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 large green bell peppers, finely chopped
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 2 teaspoons ground nutmeg
• 2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
• 2 teaspoons grains of paradise, growned to a powder (optiona0l)
• 4 medium minced African bird peppers (or hot Thai peppers)
• 1/2 to 2/3 cup dried shrimp
• Plain bread crumbs
• Parsley
• Salt 

Directions:

1. Prepare the crabs or crab meat. If cooking whole crabs, clean them and bring a large pot of water to a bowl. Add the ginbger cloves and crab and cook for 15 minutes. Remvoe crabs and meat, keep shells for plating. If using crab meat, mix crab meat with 1/4 cup of water that has been boiled with ginger piece and cloves for 15 minutes.  Drain the water, flake the meat and set aside.

2. Saute the onions, tomatoes and spices. In a heavy pot, heat the oil to medium and add the other ingredients in the following sequence, stirring for a minute for so between each ingredient: onions, ground ginger, tomatoes, tomato paste, green pepper, cumin, nutmeg, thyme, grains of paradise (if using), paprika, masked peppers and dried shrump. Reduce heat and simmer for about 4-5 minutes, stirting constantly until vegetables are cooked.

3. Add the crab meat. Then add the crab meat and stir for another couple of minutes to heat it through. 

4. Finish the dish. Remove from heat, and spoon the crab mixture into the crab shells or ramekins if you began with crab meat. Sprinkle breadcrumbs on top of each serving and toast under an oven broiler for a couple of minutes. Be careful not to let the crumbs scorch. Garnish with chopped parsley and serve immediately. 

PEACE.

Captain Crockett's Last Breakfast

My beautiful Angel and our family spent our most recent summer vacation in the small town of Harborton, Virginia. The town is nestled about halfway down the eastern Shore of Virginia, along the Puncoteague Creek as that waterway empties into the Chesapeake Bay. I rented a small house right on the creek, with its own dock and a couple of adirondack chairs looking westward toward the Chesapeake Bay. The location was ideal: it was quiet and peaceful, which I think we all needed at that time. 

As it turns out, the house was separated from other homes by fairly large stretches of green grass, weeds and other plants. However, in the midst of that green expanse, there was a small "island" of overgrowth. One could see the paths of the lawnmowers, revealing that this island was maintained intentionally. The greenery grew freely within its confines, eclipsing much but not all of what was inside. For instance, I could see a stone marker protuding out of the green bushes and weeds. I decided to check out that marker and whatever else might be hiding on that "island." 

When I reached the edge, I realized that the marker was really a monument memorializing the death of a person. While it commemorated an end of a life, the marker also serves as the beginning of a story. 

The Life and Death of Captain James E. Crockett

The "island" with the marker.

The monument marks the grave of James E. Crockett, the son of Asa and Susan Crockett. Upon closer inspection, the entire "island" is the Crockett family cemetary, with other headstones peering out from the undergrowth. After doing some research, I was able to confirm that James' parents, Asa and Susan Crockett, are buried on the "island," along with several other family members. Pictures of the tombstones taken in 2015 can be seen here and here. 

As for the story, it begins with Sampson Crockett, who was born on Tangier Island, Virginia in 1700. Sampson was the great, great grandfather of Asa Crockett. Asa was born in 1822, in the small town of Prospect Neck. The town is located in Accomack County, on Virginia's eastern shore, not too far from where Asa was buried. Asa grew up on the eastern shore, working as a sailor and eventually becoming a captain of his own vessel. He married Susan Turner (who was born in 1821 or 1822). Asa eventually purchased seven acres of land in 1852 along the Puncoteague Creek, which included the land where our vacation house was located (although that house had not been built until 1958), along with twelve additional acres down the road. Together, that land formed the Crockett farm. 

Ten years later, in 1862, James Crockett was born to Asa and Susan Crockett. James followed in his father's footsteps, becoming a sailor and, by the age of 32, the captain of the schooner Frank Cassidy. A schooner is a sailing ship with at least two or three masts that could be used for various purposes, such as fishing or transporting goods. There is at least one written account of what Captain James Crockett and the Frank Cassidy did. It appeared in a local newspaper, Peninsula Enterprise, where it was reported that the schooner and its captain were planning to take "sweet and Irish potatoes" from Harborton, Virginia to Baltimore, Maryland. It seems likely that Captain Crockett and the crew of the Frank Cassidy were part of a network transporting goods up and down the Chesapeake Bay.

An example of a schooner (Source: Library of Congress)

Four years after that report, Captain Crockett made the news again on October 25, 1898. His vessel was anchored near Swan Point, which is along the shores of the Potomac River across from Colonial Beach, Virginia. The news went beyond the mundane of what was going where, to a much darker place.  

On the morning of October 25th, Captain James Crockett called upon the ship's cook, an African-American man named "Bob." The cook had recently joined the crew of the Frank Cassidy after his  release from a Maryland penitentiary. (Like his last name, Bob's crime and punishment are not known.) Captain Crockett ordered Bob to prepare breakfast. Bob went into the galley and prepared the meal, although it apparently took some time to complete. When Bob returned with breakfast, Captain Crockett took issue with the cook's tardiness.  A verbal altercation erupted between the Captain and the Cook, with the latter cursing at the Captain. Bob walked away and went to the galley. The cook returned with a gun and shot Captain James Crockett dead on the spot. Hearing the gunshot, the first mate, George Sturgis came to Captain Crockett's aid. However, Bob also shot Sturgis, grieviously wounding him. Other crew members ran to the scene; in the chaos that developed, Bob allegedly jumped overboard into the Potomac River. Bob did not know how to swim and he drowned.

Immediately thereafter, the remaining crew of the Frank Cassidy transported gravely-stricken Sturgis to nearby Colonial Beach, Virginia. They took Sturgis to Dr. J.W. Elsam, who began to tend to the first mate's wounds. Dr. Elsam ultimately determined that Sturgis needed to be transported to Washington, D.C. where there were better facilities. The crew and the doctor placed Sturgis on a steamer headed to Washington, D.C. Unfortunately, Sturgis did not survive the trip.  

As for their captain, the Frank Cassidy crew returned his body to the Crockett family, sailing the schooner down the Chesapeake Bay, into the Puncoteague Creek and all the way to Harborton, Virginia. Both Asa and and Susan were still alive (ages 76 and 74 respectively), along with some of James's siblings. Newspapers recounted at the time of ceremonies in connection with laying the body of James Crockett to rest. The grave was dug at the Crockett family farm, and the stone marker was put in place. That marker continues to be a reminder 127 years later of the life and death of Captain Crockett. 

The Puncoteague Creek, looking toward the Chesapeake Bay at sunset.

As for his parents, they lived on. Susan Crockett died suddently at her home just two years later in 1891. Asa Crockett died at age 85 in 1907, leaving behind his remaining children -- three sons (Captain B.F. Crockett of Onancock, VA; John Crockett of Newport News, VA; and Joseph Crockett of Mobile, Alabama) and three daughters.  After his death, the Crockett family farm was sold off to Charles E. Nichols (who owned it until at least 1961, if not later). And, for the most part, the rest is history. 

That Last Breakfast

Yet, there remains the issue of that last breakfast. The meal that led to Captain James Crockett's death. As I researched the Crocketts, I was -- and still am -- intrigued as to that very small aspect of the overall story. The actual contents of the meal were lost in memory and history within minutes of the violence aboard the Frank Cassidy. Any recreation of that meal would be an academic exercise.

Nevertheless, I decided to research the rather esoteric issue of what was served as breakfast on a schooner in 1898. My search led me to the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History, and, in particular, to a bell made in 1882 or 1883 (pictured to the right). It is a bell used by George W. Scott, a cook aboard a fishing schooner Ocean King that ran out of Glouchester, Massachusetts in the late nineteenth century. The Ocean King went out into the Atlantic Ocean around the same time that the Frank Cassidy was sailing up and down the Chesapeake Bay. 

The National Museum of American History provided the context that would help me in my search. A cook on a schooner was responsible for the provisions. Scott kept a record of the provisions he acquired for a four-month journey: 5 barrels of beef, 1 barrel pork, 1 barrel hams, 10 barrels flour, 50 gallons molasses, 15 bushels of potatoes and 200 pounds of butter. All of that food went toward the production of three meals per day. Breakfast consisted of items such as pancakes, potatoes and/or porridge. The second meal, dinner, consisted of a protein, usually meat or fish, served with a soup, baked beans, and bread or biscuits. The last meal of the day could have been just the leftovers. Each meal was announced by the ringing of a bell. 

I had thoughts of trying to re-create Captain Crockett's last meal ringing in my head for days and weeks after our vacation. The Frank Cassidy most likely carried some of the provisions found on the Ocean King. Yet, posting a recipe about pancakes, potatoes, or porridge did not seem to be a fitting ending to a story that led to the death of three people, Captain Crockett, first mate Sturgis and Bob.

A more fitting ending is the recognition that history can live on, as long as there are people interested in learning it and willing to retell it (as accurately as possible). 

PEACE.