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Thanksgiving In Maryland

The cookhouse on Waltz Farm sits 50 yards from where John and Sally Waltz live in Smithsburg, Md. Windows, candles and a fireplace provide its light and heat. Built in the mid-1800s, the 12-by-24-foot wooden structure bears patinas and aromas of the past. John’s ancestors did their laundry there, butchered their hogs, rendered lard and made scrapple. And they cooked in its well-proportioned hearth. Sally fell in love with the idea of it all as soon as she got to explore what was inside.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, having a separate building to prepare food helped keep the main house cool in warm weather and reduced the chances that a kitchen fire might destroy the whole house, Sally says. “I made a deal with John way back when: ‘If I can have this for cooking, you can build other buildings on the property,’ ” she says. They use the cookhouse about four times a year. At Thanksgiving, it comes to life as they produce a fine feast.

Inside the kitchen in the main house, a hutch holds Sally’s collection of redware, earthenware pottery that turns brownish-red when it’s fired in the kiln. Some of the casseroles, round-bellied stew pots, bowls and plates are plain, and some are adorned with Old World flourishes. The redware prompts a story; both she and John, have a way of charming a visitor with their gentle humor and thoughtfulness. Nuggets of history are dispensed like treats. Sally puts this talent to work as a volunteer docent for the Rural Heritage Museum in nearby Boonsboro.

The Waltzes ferry much of their redware down to the cookhouse when they prepare for Thanksgiving, stacking it next to where cast-iron Dutch ovens and skillets sit in front of a tall cupboard full of irreplaceable farm relics. Corn bread molds and baskets hang from the rafters. As part of the Waltzes’ rehab, the cookhouse walls have been insulated and spackled to look like old plaster. To the left of the fireplace, John has stacked two wheelbarrows’ worth of wood, which he estimates is about the amount it takes to cook food all day on Thanksgiving, starting with breakfast.

“We’re usually up at 5 and get a good fire going to heat up the building,” Sally says. By the time relatives arrive at 9 a.m., a hunter’s stew is bubbling, the hominy has cooked down and the griddle for making pancakes has glowing coals beneath it. She began cooking regularly after she attended a workshop at a Lancaster, Pa., museum. The instructor roasted a turkey in a reflector oven. “It’s ingenious, really,” she says. Lightweight and made of tin, the oven’s demi-barrel shape accommodates a bird or roast that’s secured to an iron spit. The oven is placed near — not over — the fire. The secret to open-hearth cooking is maintaining steady, low-level heat.

When Sally cooks an 18-to-20-pounder she loosely stuffs the cavity with celery, carrot and onion. She skips salt and pepper. Over the course of five hours or so, the bird’s dripping juices collect in the bottom curve of the oven, where they can be drained into a gravy boat via the oven’s built-in spout. The turkey browns evenly without the cook’s having to turn the spit or reposition the oven. A hinged door on the back affords an easy glimpse. The turkey that John carves has a slight smokiness. By 4:30 or 5, when everything’s ready, Sally says, it’s dark enough that she has to hold candles close so her husband can see what he’s doing.

She relies on time-tested recipes for the rest of the meal, which includes green beans slow-cooked with bacon and onion; a rich sweet potato soufflé ; a simple, moist corn bread; mincemeat pie, whose filling is drier and meatier than most fruity, stewed variations, plus pumpkin and apple pies; and fresh apple cider. Sally has baked pies inside kettles at the hearth, but the Thanksgiving pies are made 24 hours in advance in her kitchen.

Dinner is served by the warmth of the cookhouse fireplace, as guests sit cozy at the table or settle into the room’s rocking chairs, wooden settee and benches. Candles glow at the windows. The spread includes a dish familiar to folks who live in rural Maryland and Pennsylvania, but it raises the eyebrow of a city dweller: a pot of pickled beets, with peeled, whole hard-cooked eggs mixed in.

Linked recipes at the end of the article include: Green Beans and Bacon … Open Hearth Turkey … Sweet Potato Soufflé … Mincemeat Pie … Red Beet Pickle … Reflector Oven 101 … and … Secrets of a Perfect Pie Crust
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http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/food/thanksgiving-in-maryland-happens-in--and-around--the-hearth/2011/10/21/gIQAbIaCPN_story.html