#39. Throw in a shrimp salad from Kibby's.

Is it bad that my first memory is in a restaurant?

Well, maybe not bad, but certainly expected of me. Interestingly enough though, that restaurant that my conscious life began in was Kibby’s Restaurant and Lounge on Wilkens Ave. in Baltimore.  I can remember clear as day, standing on the booth seat, looking out the window for Saint Agnes Hospital where my mom (and newly born sister) were; I was very confused as to why they weren’t there and I’m pretty sure I was annoying my grandfather by standing up on the table.

Kibby’s is located right across the street from where I was born, down the block from my grandfather’s house, Rheb’s candy, the Cardinal Gibbons High School (where my father and many other family members attended), Seton Keough High School (formerly Archbishop Keough, both schools the Alma Mater to many other female family members), a mile from my mom’s parents and just 3 miles from where I live now. In other words, it’s a familiar sight and someplace I take for granted driving past almost every day for many years. I don’t eat there very often, but my grandparents have always been regulars and my parents even had their rehearsal dinner there before their wedding, so they have fond memories as well.

Most people, though, know Kibby’s for their famous shrimp salad and hometown feel. Starting as a speak-easy during prohibition, Kibby’s Lucky Number 7 Night Club flourished as a neighborhood bar and restaurant off of Winchester Street in Edmonson. Later, Kibby’s started serving alcohol legally and opened as the Restaurant and Lounge in the current location on Wilkens Avenue in 1934. The shrimp salad, which has received several “Best of Baltimore” awards, is simply their house-steamed shrimp (vinegar and lots of Old Bay seasoning), peeled and tosses with Helman’s mayo and celery pieces. The salad needs no seasoning because the shrimp are steamed so perfectly. It is usually served on a soft, white Kaiser roll with a pickle spear on the side.

Using my grandfather as my primary informant, I asked him why Kibby’s was so popular and why the shrimp salad was so good. He told me, “They give you free cheese.” Although a little… abstract (and typical of my Pop)… this comment sums up Kibby’s perfectly. Let me explain. As my grandfather went on, he told me he always knew most of the wait staff and the bartender, and always ran into someone he knew at the restaurant. He likes the menu because it has familiar favorites, nothing too fancy but real Baltimore comfort food, like crab fluffs, hot roast beef and gravy, oyster sandwiches, steak and sour beef and dumplings. Although informal and very blue-collar, Kibby’s is a neighborhood joint with consistently delicious food and famous shrimp salad with a deceivingly simple recipe (see the Recipes section!). Oh, and they serve a (free) ball of port wine cheese and crackers on the table to munch on as soon as you arrive; unique, old school and delicious, just like the restaurant itself.



Locals playing "cornhole" in the dining room



Kibby’s is authentically Baltimore purely because it has been around so long; opened for almost eight decades (legally), it has become a Baltimore institution because of its well-made, familiar and home style dishes with local ingredients and cultural influences (Greek-style sour beef and dumplings, pasta dishes, kielbasa and sauerkraut…) that ensure there is something for everyone on the menu. The low prices and location make the restaurant accessible to almost everyone, especially the blue-collar and working-class residents of the surrounding neighborhoods. Last but certainly not least is the fact that Kibby’s is a big part of the local culture; holiday parties, Ravens Roost meetings and game-days, weekly specials and family dinners are frequent events. Regular customers are a huge part of Kibby’s business and locals are a constant presence, giving the restaurant that local, hole-in-the-wall flavor.

The outside of Kibby’s (and the inside, for that matter) are nothing special; in fact, the place is kind of a hole in the wall. But, like the shrimp salad, delicious things are sometimes the most simple, wrapped in tin foil and Styrofoam. My mom, who has been going to Kibby’s for years, picked up a few shrimp salad sandwiches (the small ones, the large can feed 3 people) while I was out running errands with dad. Walking out into the rain, she ran into an old friend and gave him a ride home down the street. Typical of Kibby’s, you can’t walk in without seeing someone you know and eating something familiar.

Terms:

primary informant: member of a culture or someone met in the field of study from whom the researcher gains firsthand knowledge of the culture/area from

References:

http://www.examiner.com/restaurant-in-baltimore/old-school-homemade-dinner-baltimore-at-kibby-s-across-from-st-agnes-hospital
http://www.kibbysrestaurant.net/index.htm
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kibbys-Restaurant-and-Lounge/54787631098

Recipes:

-steam shrimp salad with water, vinegar and liberal amounts of Old Bay until done
-peel, de-vein and cool
-add Helman's mayonnaise to taste and diced celery

#69. Gravy fries

Gravy fries, like many other diner foods, have questionable origins.

Seen in the movie “Diner,” set in Baltimore, french fries and gravy appear in a Fells Point diner; they also make frequent appearances on menu’s in deli’s, sub shops and diners all around the city. Gravy fries are usually crispy, thick cut fries (either crinkle-cut or steak-cut) served with a heaping helping of hot, thick beef gravy poured on top. The fries stay slightly crispy, with the parts covered in gravy soft and soggy in a good way. In my opinion, the best time of year to eat this hot, savory dish is in the dead of winter with an open-faced, hot roast-beef sandwich on the same plate.

 All in all, french fries with gravy (like their cousin, cheese fries) is a primarily working class food. French fries have always been a working class food, but they are beloved by all walks of life. The “french” in french fries refer to the process of deep-frying rather than the particular cut of the potatoes. These deep fried potato slices are said to have originated by poor fishermen in Netherlands, where potatoes were deep fried alongside fish or instead of fish when rivers froze over. The fried potatoes came to Belgium where peasants, who had access to potatoes as a cheap and home-grown food source, would deep fry them with salt. The french fry craze spread throughout Europe as a cheap, lower-class, fast food; in England they were referred to as “chips” and served with fried fish wrapped in newspapers. Post World War II, french fries became widely popular in the United States, popularized by fast-food chains like McDonalds. Gravy, like french fries, is a primarily working-class or lower class food. Made from juices left over from cooking meat (or vegetables, in some cases) mixed with flour to thicken it, gravy is an example of how no food went to waste amongst poorer families.

So who put french fries and gravy together? Well, no one really knows. It would be lying to say they are a purely “Baltimore thing.” But in Quebec, formerly part of French-Canada, is home to a famous dish called Poutin: french fries served with cheese curds and gravy. This dish is known as a blue-collar or lower-class dish in the area. Poutin and gravy fries are both popular dishes in the Northeast United States, and gravy goes on many, many things in the Southeast United States. My guess is that Baltimore, which (as I have said many, many times before) is a blue-collar town, acquired gravy fries from influences both above and below: Poutin and the general idea of gravy on french fries from up north and gravy on anything from down south.

Regardless of where gravy fries really come from, they are a delicious, simple and familiar food. And after a long, cloudy day of working and running errands, gravy fries were the perfect comfort food.

References:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine#Origins

#64. Pit beef from anywhere without a door, followed by #5. Snack on a Berger cookie.

I grew up on pit beef and Berger cookies.

My grandfather, Joseph Dennis Grace, owned Town & Country Caterers for over 50 years. My earliest childhood memories is sitting on the kitchen counter with slices of roast beef, maraschino cherries and a Berger cookie on a paper plate watching my parents cater bull and oyster roasts with my grandfather; and let me tell you, I am spoiled now because of it. I remember watching my grandfather and his brothers Jerome and John dry rub rounds of beef with dry mustard, pepper, salt and oregano, rosemary and thyme and slow cook them on spits outside “the Hall” occasionally spraying them with red wine vinegar. I always took for granted that everyone knew what bull and oyster roasts were and that the only way to eat pit beef was on a Kaiser roll with raw white onions and horseradish sauce. I also took for granted that they HAD to have Berger cookies all over the world, because they were coveted in lunchboxes and kitchens almost everywhere I turned.

As I grew older and ventured outside of the Baltimore bubble, I began to realize that these things were just not true. There were no Berger cookies on the west coast (or UTZ for that matter…) and my friends from up north did not know what real pit-beef was, let  alone that it usually came from an outdoor location.

I have learned that pit beef is actually a traditional Baltimore delicacy, with recipes popping up all over the internet for “Baltimore Pit Beef.” Apparently, Baltimore pit beef is the top- or bottom-round cut of beef, dry rubbed and slowly cooked over an open flame, usually cooked rare or medium rare. The tradition of pit beef supposedly comes from working class neighborhoods in east Baltimore, such as Rosedale and Essex. The round cuts of beef are inexpensive and become tough when overcooked or dry, so pit beef was the perfect solution to a delicious steak dinner for less. Bull and oyster roasts were also an easy, cheap and local solution to a large celebration.

Now, onto Berger cookies. Those delicious but sinfully caloric Baltimore confections.

In 1835, brothers George and Henry Berger immigrated to Baltimore from Germany. Henry Berger, a baker, settled into East Baltimore and opened a bakery; eventually, he had three sons, two of whom (Otto and George) opened their own bakeries while Henry the younger took over their fathers. Now back then, most food was purchased in “open air markets” and the public markets in Baltimore. All three brothers kept stalls in these markets and their name became quite popular in the baking business, especially with one of their products: a vanilla wafer cookie topped with chocolate fudge. Eventually, the brothers combined the bakeries under a single name in the late 1800’s.

When the Berger brothers eventually grew old and passed away, the remaining brother George sold the bakery to Charles E. Russell and his family. Charles Russell Jr., the current owner, still makes sure the bakery uses the same recipes and ingredients as in the 19^th century when the bakery first started producing Berger cookies.

Berger cookies and pit-beef, like a lot of other Baltimore institutions I have written about, have blue-collar origins and/or is a product of immigration to Baltimore. Although it is repetitive, it does present a theme: Baltimore is a working-class, melting pot city. Many food items Baltimoreans know and enjoy come from this immigrant, working-class background, even if they are sometimes dressed up and presented as a high-class culinary confection (take fried soft-crabs for example). Many of these foods were marketed or eaten out of necessity or enjoyed in lieu of more expensive things by people with little means (see snowballs, first entry). The accessibility of these foods to the lower-, working- and middle classes made these foods popular and well known, eventually leading to them becoming cultural delicacies in our beautiful city and elsewhere. Pit beef was even an institution in my family; my grandfather made his living off of it and eventually became very well-known in the area for his simple but delicious food. My family is still in the restaurant business and no one forgets that we had our roots in plain old, working class, southwest Baltimore culture. All I know is that there aren’t many ways to dress up pit-beef or Berger cookies, but I like it like that. Plain, simple, and oh-so-Baltimore, hon.

References:

 http://www.cookscountry.com/pwlogin.asp?did=28930&area=recipe&iseason=

http://bergercookies.com/

http://www.nytimes.com/2000/06/28/dining/how-to-say-barbecue-in-baltimore.html

Today, while running around Arbutus getting all hot and sweaty, I got a whiff of pit-beef cooking and instantly I had to have it. I loaded up my sister, brother and cousin Annie in the car and drove to a small but well-known red trailer parked on the side of Rt. 1 by the Home Depot. Two women (with distinct Baltimore accents I might add) took down our order for 2 pit-beef and 2 barbeque beef sandwiches. Almost immediately 4 hot, tinfoil wrapped packages were handed to us. Attached to the trailer is a little condiment table. I loaded my sandwich up with raw white onions, salt, pepper and spicy horseradish sauce, just like my grandfather does. On the way home, Maureen (trying to redeem herself for previous blog failings) ran into 7-11 for some Berger cookies, because who can have that delicious beef without some dessert? On her part, it was a good move. In the June heat, they were slightly gooey and a delicious compliment to the rich, rare, flavorful beef on (naturally) a fresh white Kaiser roll. What a perfect summer lunch.

#14. Chiapparelli's house salad

Weddings are a beautiful thing, especially Italian ones.

This week has really been one to celebrate. My cousin Charles, who I consider an older brother, and his lovely wife Crystal had their lovely daughter Kinsley Denise; my other beautiful cousin Molly Grace married her husband Nick Ferraioli three days later downtown with both large families and a large celebration to follow. As it always goes, the best way to celebrate in my family is always with food.

Nick, in case you can’t tell from his last name, is Italian. His big, wonderful family is about as Italian as Italian can be. They are all from Jersey and came down for the whole weekend celebration. Being that my family loves food and Nick’s family is Italian, the rehearsal dinner was at Chiapparelli’s in Little Italy. Chiapparelli’s is an Italian institution in Baltimore City.

Chiapparelli’s was opened in 1955 by Italian immigrants to Baltimore and is still preparing food according to the same recipes in the very same building. White tablecloths, warm red wallpapered and brick walls, and bread baskets make the restaurant the typical looking Italian restaurant, cozy and familiar. Unfortunately, this time I was not able to attend Chiapparelli’s first hand; I wasn’t in the wedding and I made a visit to the county and didn’t get back until late anyway. I did, however, send my mother out for some field research at the rehearsal. She came back with a famous house salad and some lasagna. That’s what I call field research.

The house salad isn’t exactly gourmet, but it was delicious in (yet again) that familiar Italian way. Iceberg lettuce with tomatoes, onions, hard-boiled eggs and lots of parmesan cheese, topped by a LOT of their house dressing, a parmesan vinaigrette.  The lasagna was a huge portion, and that’s after my mom had had some at dinner. It was the perfect, home-style, my-Italian-grandma-made-it lasagna. Tons of noodles layered with mounds of soft ricotta cheese and meat sauce, baked enough so that the top layer is crispy and the cheese is melted and gooey in the center.

The great thing about Chiapparelli’s is it’s familiarity as a Little Italy institution and its cultural identity as an “Old Baltimore” favorite as well as one of the many authentic, family owned Italian restaurants in Baltimore, an old port city with a plethora of immigrants. The “Old Baltimore” label is one ascribed to the restaurant from waitresses, customers and multiple reviews on the internet. The unchanging atmosphere is the largest reason for this unofficial title; Chiapparelli’s has remained relatively unchanged since it’s opening over 50 years ago. People’s parents and grandparents have enjoyed the same wines, salads and breads for years. The prices at this restaurant are moderate, not too high, and not very cheap. But Chiapparelli’s large dining room makes the restaurant a perfect place for large, special occasion dinners (even their website heavily advertises this fact). That being considered, as well as the delicious food and generations of families knowing and loving this Little Italy favorite, Chiapparelli’s is a go-to for graduations, birthdays, etc. for families from all walks of life.

When considering Chiapparelli’s as a Baltimore favorite, it all boils down to this: it is familiar, it is authentic, it is delicious and it is accessible. Baltimore is not a very cosmopolitan city; what filet mignon and expensive wine may be to some cities, crab cakes and Natty Boh are to Baltimore. That being said, a delicious Italian restaurant with a welcoming and familiar ambience, serving food at reasonable prices is definitely a reason for celebration in Baltimore. And, god willing, my family will have many more reasons to celebrate this year… hopefully with lots more delicious food.

References:

http://www.yelp.com/biz/chiapparellis-restaurant-baltimore
http://www.chiapparellis.com/index.html
http://www.manta.com/c/mm7jk7m/chiapparelli-s-restaurant

Terms:

field research: collecting or creating new information outside of a laboratory, or in the place of study

Recipes:

The "REAL" Chiapparelli's House Salad:
Ingredients

2 lg. heads Romaine lettuce
1 clove Garlic, minced
2 Tomatoes, cut into wedges
1 Onion, thinly sliced
4 Hard boiled eggs, chopped
½ c. Vinegar
½ c. Olive oil
2 tbl. Oregano
2 tbl. Sugar
1 Large can parmesan or romano cheese

Directions

1. Toss salad ingredients together.
2. Mix dressing ingredients and pour over salad.
3. Toss. Add cheese. Toss and serve.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080529175632AAKpc9H

#71. Old-fashioned Maryland Stuffed Ham

Ahhhh, gotta’ love “The County.”

…and by “The County” I mean the only county in Maryland (to my knowledge) that is acknowledged as such, Saint Mary’s County. If one has been lived in Saint Mary's county for a period of time, "The County" is a colloquial term that means home for many. I know, I know, this isn’t Baltimore. BUT southern Maryland is a unique part of the state that I happen to live in 9 months out of the year, so I was pleasantly surprised when I found one of the local county delicacies on my list. I suppose that if one were to really try to understand culture and food in Baltimore, one must backtrack and explore other areas of the state to comprehend the culinary melting pot that is the city. And how much further back can one go to the first Maryland settlers who landed the Ark and the Dove in Saint Mary’s City, Maryland?

Southern Maryland stuffed ham is a popular dish in, well, Southern Maryland. It is shipped all over the country but remains relatively obscure (much like the county itself). It is often called “Saint Mary’s Ham” because of its history in the area: there is significant evidence that stuffed ham was a recipe brought by settlers on the Ark and the Dove from their place of origin, England. Some recipes that are currently floating around in “The County” have been passed down for years, sometimes up to 10 or twelve generations There are many family variations, dependent on taste and tradition, but here are the basics:  cabbage, kale, onions, spices and seasonings are chopped, mixed thoroughly and stuffed into slits (using ones fingers) made into a de-boned, corned ham. It is often served cold between two slices of white bread.

In my experiences, the most authentic stuffed ham comes from little “dives,” county fair-type events and church dinners. This is because the stuffed ham being served is normally made by people who have made it for years with a recipe that has been around for way longer. The best part about this dish too is that it’s cheap and locally made. Every ingredient in stuffed ham is relatively inexpensive and available all year round, hence stuffed ham sandwiches are frequently present at family holiday dinners, church dinners and local restaurant menus. Its accessibility, history and roots in tradition make this an important part of the culinary culture of the Southern Maryland Peninsula.

 “Stuffing of the Ham” parties are held for male members of families up to several times per year, usually around holiday seasons such as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. My boyfriend Brendan’s family lives in Southern Maryland and has gone to several of these events this year so I quizzed him on the subject. Brendan explains to me that recipes get handed down as family heirlooms and making delicious hams is a point of family pride. These events, he says, are often just for men who use the day-long process of making ham as an excuse to drink, hang out, swap stories and make lewd jokes about “ham-stuffing” (you all can probably guess why). While stuffing ham is not an exclusively male activity (female workers at McKay’s Supermarkets in “The County” are said to make some of the best around), it is reminiscent of the “man of the house” carving the Thanksgiving turkey. Now I know what he’s up to when he goes to his uncle’s house for “ham parties”….

Today, while making a visit to Saint Mary’s to visit Brendan, I got the itch for some stuffed ham (and I had the perfect excuse, this blog, to make sure I got some). Brendan, our friend Sam Berry and I climbed in the car and drove to a place near where Brendan’s uncle (the ham stuffer) lives that supposedly has some of the best ham sandwiches around. The W.J. Dent Store in Tall Timbers, MD is located 15 minutes from Saint Mary’s City in a small rural neighborhood, and it’s as “County” as “County” can get. The inside is a country store with a small restaurant/pub attached in the back and a deli counter where one could order a sandwich to go. The store has been around since 1927 and has only been owned by two families. This was evident in the fact that every customer that walked in besides us was greeted by name by the men behind the counter. Obviously this place is very local and frequented by many regulars. Brendan, Sam and I ordered the same thing at the back deli counter, got a bag of kettle cooked potato chips and a sweet tea each and sat on the tailgate of Brendan’s Subaru Forrester to chow down.

Sam, who had never had stuffed ham, was amazed. I was excited about food, as always, and even Brendan was impressed with the taste. This ham was perfectly salty and but still tender and soft to chew. There were a lot of spices and onions mixed in with the traditional cabbage and kale, so this ham was definitely suited for someone who liked mildly spicy foods. The sweet tea was the perfect complement to the salty-spicy ham between two slices of fresh, soft white bread. Sitting in the Southern Maryland sunshine in cutoffs and an old t-shirt eating my $6.00 sandwich, I couldn’t help but smile and wonder how many people over the years have enjoyed the same experience. I plan on bringing stuffed ham to Baltimore this Thanksgiving and making this unique and delicious Maryland tradition more local up my way. I can only hope people who have seen the “100 Things” list will travel down to “The County” and soak up some sun, some history about our beautiful state and some local food favorites.

There is no place like the county, especially after a late lunch of stuffed ham and Cook’s soft-serve, eaten after a beautiful day on the river.

References:

http://www.squidoo.com/stuffedham
http://www.nytimes.com/1982/12/05/travel/stuffed-ham-with-a-kick.html
http://somd.com/news/headlines/2007/6754.shtml
http://www.wjdent.com/

Terms:

colloquial: a word or phrased used in a local and informal dialect

Recipes:

Recipe for Stuffed Ham via the Food Network via Ridge, MD (not for the faint of heart! this is time-consuming!)

#43. Eat roasted vegetables at Donna's ... wearing black.

It’s trendy to be a vegetarian right?

Well, at Donna’s Restaurant it is. Donna’s, originally just one café in Mount Vernon, is credited for introducing trendy eats and coffee to Baltimore. Former art director of the Baltimore Sun Donna Crivello opened the first Donna’s Café in the ultra-chic Baltimore neighborhood Mount Vernon and a star was born. Seven Donna’s Restaurants were opened in Baltimore in quick succession. The current number has shrunk to three almost 20 years after the nativity of the original café, and the menu’s still offer many of the same dishes they first made popular (such as roasted vegetables and gourmet coffee drinks) but Donna’s reputation and only grown and still attracts a young and (keyword) trendy crowd.  

Cut to my friend Gina. A trendy little haute hippie since our high school days, Gina has always been a step ahead both in fashion, hairstyle and her gourmet vegetarian tendencies. This blog adventure was so perfectly suited for her that I was not shocked in the least when she volunteered to accompany me.

While the cuisine or concept at Donna’s is not authentic or original to Baltimore, the restaurants flair and gourmet delicacies are in line with the cultural identity of the Mount Vernon district and the growing reputation of Baltimore as an up-and coming, artsy city. Mount Vernon, the highest point in Baltimore city, was donated by the Howard family in the 19^th century as a memorial for George Washington (the very first one, in fact). The area around the monument became home to the wealthy and influential as well as a major cultural center, being home to the Peabody Conservatory, the Walters Art Gallery and the Enoch Pratt Free Library. The area continues to be a wealthy one, with a plethora of upscale restaurants and bars as well as fashionable boutiques surrounded by the fabulous and original architecture of past indulgence making one feel glamorous just walking down the street.

Similarly, Donna’s makes one feel glamorous just walking into the place. Tastefully and artistically decorated with soft indie music playing over the speakers, one immediately feels as if they have entered into a small Parisian café or an art gallery. The late lunch crowd was very small (i.e. Gina and I), so the atmosphere was extremely private and cozy. My blog list recommended eating Donna’s famous roasted vegetables while, for no particular reason, wearing black. Well, I was wearing a black t-shirt and some jean shorts so Gina and I decided to split a small plate of roasted vegetables, an appetizer of balsamic mushroom bruschetta and sweet potato fries. Completely vegetarian, very healthy, very trendy.

The food was served in large portions and to die for. Perfectly roasted cauliflower, carrots, peppers, eggplant and onions were artistically arranged on a plate, colorful and barely seasoned allowing for a very natural and crunchy taste. The bruschetta was rich and delicious; thick rye toast topped with portabella mushroom pieces, fresh goat cheese, roasted red peppers and balsamic vinegar made up the non-traditional but delicious dish. Finally, the sweet potato fries, although familiar and not as gourmet as the other dishes, were the best I have ever had; crispy, hot and naturally sweet, the fries were served with a dill aioli dipping sauce as well as the traditional ketchup.  We finished all three plates of food, mine being washed down with an incredible blackberry Italian soda, as well as a chocolate hazelnut biscotti each for dessert.

Although neither our server nor the manager really knew why wearing black was critical to the Donna’s experience, I think I have an idea. Donna’s is the quintessential trendy gourmet bistro.  Like its original location in Mount Vernon, eating at Donna’s makes one feel effortlessly elegant and sophisticated with its gourmet menu, casually elegant atmosphere, healthy menu and stellar reputation. Just like slipping into a little black dress, slipping into Donna’s for lunch induces feelings of sophistication.

Or, if you’re like me, wearing black could just make you look a little more sophisticated as you get goat cheese and balsamic vinegar all over your face trying to bit through a particularly chewy piece of mushroom. Maybe just a little.

References:

http://www.baltimorestyle.com/index.php/style/dining_article/d_dinesout_n04/
http://www.livebaltimore.com/neighborhoods/list/mountvernon/

22. Eat a box of Rheb's buttercreams. Not at one sitting, of course ... on the other hand, why not?

I’d go as far as to venture that there are not many things better than chocolate.

A box of chocolate can mean so many wonderful things, like love (on Valentine ’s Day), holiday togetherness (Easter candy, anyone?) to “I’m sorry” (when you’ve REALLY screwed up) or just “I’ve had a really exhausting day and I just wanna be alone with some food and my feelings” (which is the kind of day I have had).

My sister Maureen, who heartily contributed to this week being exceptionally exhausting, apologized to me (“I’m sorry” comes into play…) with a box of Rheb’s assorted chocolate buttercreams. Almost everyone I know who is from Baltimore knows that Rheb’s candy is always a salivatingly delicious, hand-made, chocolately reward for something or another. I snatched the box and decided to forgive her… this time.

Inside the nondescript, white, logo-patterned Rheb’s box was one half of a pound of hand-made buttercream-filled chocolate candies, half milk chocolate and half dark. Maureen must have been really, really sorry to remember that I like some of each. I ate one milk chocolate and one dark chocolate candy and put the box away, hiding it stealthily behind the nice dinner plates on the top shelf of a cabinet.

The story of Rheb’s Candy starts off much like many of the locations I have blogged about: a mom and pop business started many years ago that has slowly become a Baltimore institution. In 1917 newlyweds and self-taught candy makers Lois and Esther Rheb began producing hand-made candies in the basement of their row home at 3352 Wilkens Avenue in Southwest Baltimore. They sold the candies straight out of their basement garage and in the Hollins, Belair and Lexington Markets in the city. As the business grew more and more popular, the Rhebs built a candy store behind their house where it still stands today. Louis’s grandson still owns the store and it remains so popular that most days (especially holidays) there are lines out the door before the store even opens. I have witness all this myself; my grandfather and his mother before him live on that same block, so three generations of my family has been eating Rheb’s Candy since the very beginning.

 

[NOTE: A wise professor has advised me of three specific things to focus on from here on out in my blog: the authenticity, socioeconomic class of those eating and the cultural identity of the delicacy in question.]

Now don’t get me wrong, boxes of chocolate are virtually universal to every neighborhood in the United States. But Rheb’s is special. Outside of Baltimore, Rheb’s candy is not-so-famous; but mention Rheb’s to a resident of Baltimore and they’ll know what it is. The presence of Rheb’s candy in the city in so many accessible and popular locations, as well as the quality of the candy, is the reason this little Cinderella-story candy operation is so well known around these parts. Which brings me to my next point: Rheb’s is popular because it is affordable. Not everyone can order gourmet, hand-made, fancy-pants chocolate off the internet or go to an upscale candy shop. Rheb’s offers delicious, hand-made and fresh candies at a fraction of what one would pay for similar (but less fresh) product. The retail locations have traditionally been in lower-class neighborhoods; Wilkens Ave. is home to primarily blue-collar, working-class families and the Baltimore Markets are all, for the most part, in predominantly black, working-class parts of the city. The “blocks” of Baltimore come to mind: row houses with marble stairs, where residents hang out on the stoop swapping gossip and stories. The ladies at Rheb’s make this scenario even more real, as most of them that work there have worked there forever and have long-standing relationships with many customers, most of whom are regulars.

The look of Rheb’s candy is pretty run of the mill as well. Looking down on the candies, they seem to be nothing special. They’re all well-made looking and appetizing, but there are no special, artistic flourishes nor are they packaged in glitzy, fancy wrappers or boxes. The quality of the candy, though, speaks for itself. Biting into a fresh dark-chocolate vanilla buttercream, I can really taste everything in the title. The milk chocolate is creamy as can be, and the buttercream filling is exceptionally creamy, tasting of whipped butter and vanilla. The dark chocolate is not as sweet, but tastes of pure chocolate which makes one appreciate the light flavor of the buttercream that much more. The candy melts in my mouth (probably because it was made that morning or the night before) before I can even close my eyes and sigh contentedly.

The tradition of Rheb’s Candy in Baltimore embodies the city in a unique and metaphorical way: Baltimore is a working-class city, not too glamorous or overwhelmingly beautiful, not very expensive and not as famous as, say, a fancy big-city like New York. But Baltimore, like Rheb’s candy, is a hidden and surprising jewel, hiding its fresh and delicious secrets (new AND old) inside a plain package.

I went back to my box of candy today to eat some and write this entry but, alas, my family has found it. In a supposed gesture of goodwill, they left me one of each candy. They owe me another box of “I’m sorry.”

References:

http://articles.baltimoresun.com/2001-04-04/news/0104040075_1_dann-candy-mrs

Terms:

authenticity: that which is real, or "authentic" in a culture, specific to the culture or original to the culture

socioeconomic class: distinctions between groups in a society based upon their access to resources

cultural identity: identity of a group or individual defined by one's belonging to a specific group