Revolutionary War Recipes You Can Cook at Home: Part #4 of our American Revolution Food Series

. Nancy A. May: Hello, everybody.

Welcome back to another episode of Family Tree Food and Stories, where

every single dish has a little bit of history and certainly a story.

I'm Nancy May, or Fancy Nancy, as we've been saying behind the scenes, your host

And I'm Sylvia Frantz, your co-host

Nancy A. May: Yes, you're fancy too, darling.

So Sylvia, before we launch into this week's show, I'd love to give

a quick shout-out to a few folks who are listening to our show.

We've got a great following, and especially in Ashburn, Virginia,

Council Bluffs, Iowa, and some of the great folks in St. Petersburg,

our home state of Florida, are among those and many others around the world

We are thrilled that you're joining us each episode,

and we look forward to giving a shout-out to more of you next week.

Nancy A. May: Absolutely

So today, Nancy, honestly, I've got every single burner on our stove

firing at once, and the oven is actively starting to give off a lot of heat.

It's going to be an absolute barn burner and madhouse around here today

Nancy A. May: It sure is.

But before we start stirring up our pots, would you do us a favor and head

on over to podcast.familytreefoodstories, give us a quick review, and

four stars please, smile, smile.

And share this episode with someone who loves to cook and loves a good

story, and wants to know where the food they ate today or yesterday came from.

We're right here every week with a brand-new episode dropping

every single Thursday morning

So our big America 250 birthday grand finale, we decided to

stop talking about the history and stories of what everyone ate and bring it

straight into our modern actual kitchens

Nancy A. May: Yes, that's correct.

We are doing a marathon of cooking, a full day of it, of Revolutionary War

comfort food, from morning breakfast to an evening meal, and sharing how you can

make sure that you can enjoy exactly what old George ate and others during that time

And I don't want you to worry.

You don't need to hunt down weird, obscure ingredients from 1776 because everything

we're making is shockingly simple

Nancy A. May: It really is.

And if you have cornmeal, peanut butter, yes peanut butter, chicken,

some macaroni noodles, some navy beans, and a few apples in your pantry

right now, you can cook the exact same menu that we're making here today.

And you know what, Sylvia?

What?

Nancy A. May: It turns out that the instinct to cook your way

through stressful times hasn't changed that much in 250 years

Oh, absolutely But before we start chopping, glasses

up What are we drinking today?

Nancy A. May: Well, our tradition now is a toast, but today we're

just drinking black coffee, a mug of it, maybe, maybe a whole pot of it.

Because it's not 5:00 in paradise just yet, and we have some serious

cooking ahead of us, Sylvia

Well, it's always 5:00 somewhere, but fair enough.

A toast to comfort food then.

Whatever chaos is going on outside, we still boil, saute, and

bake to feel a little bit better

Nancy A. May: That's correct.

And 250 years apart, that part just hasn't changed that much.

So what do you say, Sylvia, that we just roll up our sleeves, put

on the aprons, and get cooking?

I'm ready, so let's go

Nancy A. May: so my cast iron is heating up and I'm handling the

morning shift with two absolute classics hoecakes and peanut soup

I can't wait for this.

Can you explain a hoecake for everyone who hasn't had the pleasure to try one?

Nancy A. May: Absolutely.

I haven't had the pleasure yet either, so we're gonna taste that with you.

think of it as a thick, deep, savory cornmeal pancake where the edges get

crispy in the grease, lard in that day and age, maybe a little bit butter today.

and George Washington ate these every single morning of his life.

They were just swimming in butter and honey

I wonder if it was the back, the backstroke

that they were swimming in

Nancy A. May: Right?

but it sounds perfect to me.

And what's the secret batter?

Nancy A. May: So It's just white cornmeal.

This batch of cornmeal actually came from our good friend Steve Melton over

in Dade City, with a pinch of salt, a little bit of sourdough starter, or

if you don't have that, you can try active dry yeast, and boiling water.

And that's it

there's no flour in these hoecakes?

Nancy A. May: Nope, no flour at all, which you typically have in pancakes.

You just scald the cornmeal with a little boiling water, add the starter,

and make it into a thick paste.

It's totally foolproof.

You know, even Ben Franklin was obsessed with them.

however, rumor has it that Ben preferred his with a glass or two of Madeira wine

on the side, even early in the morning

but it is classic Franklin.

Now, you have to address the forklore.

Did people actually bake these on the back of a literal garden hoe?

Nancy A. May: Well, yes and no.

You see, enslaved laborers working out in the fields absolutely did

use garden hoes or the iron garden hoes often in front of, often over

fire pits out of sheer necessity.

But our friend Steve pointed out in his research, the big estate kitchens,

well, the hoe was just actually another term for an old flat iron grill.

But can you hear that sizzling, Sylvia?

I can.

It sounds beautiful.

Music to my ears

Nancy A. May: Now, while these fry up, I'm gonna knock out some

colonial peanut soup right next to it

Peanut soup for breakfast?

That sounds kind of weird to me, Nancy.

It sounds more like dessert

Nancy A. May: Well, it was one of George's favorites.

So I promise you it's not sweet like hoecake syrup.

It's actually deeply savory, earthy, and totally velvety

How are you making this so fast?

Nancy A. May: Well, if you only have a few minutes, this is the

way you do it, and that's typically the way it was made back then.

You just quickly whisk in smooth unsweetened peanut butter.

Remember, don't get the kind at the grocery store that has sugar in

it, and put that directly into some hot boiling chicken stock with some

minced celery and onions, although I recommend you saute up those celery

and onions first before you put them in

So was that crunchy peanut butter or smooth peanut butter?

And was that really it?

Nancy A. May: It was smooth peanut butter.

Now, you add a splash of heavy cream just to smooth it out even more so.

And in the end, it takes about 15 minutes

That sounds awesome and it smells incredible already but

the history behind this one is heavy

Nancy A. May: It really is.

At Mount Vernon, an enslaved chef named Hercules Posey ran the entire

kitchen operation for George.

You know, we talked about him and how he brilliantly walked out on George's

birthday to get his own freedom that one was in the last episode.

However, Hercules was a genuine culinary celebrity of the day, and

peanut soup itself really evolved from the West African peanut stews brought

over and adapted by enslaved people

That's a vital reminder.

The bedrock of American cuisine was built by the genius of Black chefs.

Nancy A. May: Yes, it was.

And on that note, my hoe cakes are ready to be flipped, and the soup is thickening

up, and breakfast is officially served.

Grab your spoon

I am for sure

Nancy A. May: Okay, so, now that we're done cleaning up breakfast, we're gonna

fast-forward and clock into midday.

The kitchen is officially smelling like roasted chicken and bubbling cheese

Welcome to lunch, which fun fact, was actually the biggest,

heaviest meal of the day in 1776.

It was usually served around 2:30 in the afternoon

Nancy A. May: You know, That's perfect timing because I have a

gorgeous spatchcock chicken resting right here on the cutting board.

I think the name spatchcock was invented by some guy somewhere

I'm sure it was.

So can you tell them about the technique?

Your Bob actually taught us this one, right?

Nancy A. May: He did, and swears by it.

And I won't touch it.

Smart girl.

Let him do the work.

Nancy A. May: You just cut the backbone out completely out of the whole chicken

and press it flat, or in my case, I would say smash it flat, and throw it

into a hot cast iron pan skin side up

Is smashed a real culinary term?

I don't think

Nancy A. May: In my book it is.

But I understand it cuts your roasting time right in half.

If you don't have a Bob to help you with your spatchcocking, you can buy a

whole chicken, at most meat departments at grocery stores such as Publix

will remove the backbone for free.

All you have to do is ask.

And ask also to keep the backbone so you can make homemade bone broth later.

Even Trader Joe's has a rosemary lemon spatchcock chicken

which gets amazing reviews

Nancy A. May: Hmm.

And with spatchcocking, you get a maximum crispy skin and the

breast stays incredibly juicy.

So before you put it in, though, just rub it down with butter, a little

salt and pepper, some fresh thyme, and for a little extra flavor, throw some

roasted garlic right under the skin

It looks absolutely amazing but check this out I have

some macaroni and cheese that I just pulled out of the oven

Nancy A. May: Whoa, that looks pretty amazing.

It's golden and crispy and bubbling all on the top, Sylvia.

It's spectacular, and it smells delicious.

Now, people think that mac and cheese is this modern processed box, orange

and gold, you know, Kraft, but that is pure fork lore, our term again.

however, We owe this exact classic, to Thomas Jefferson and his brilliant

enslaved chef, James Hemings.

You see, Hemings trained under the finest master chefs in Paris,

ooh la la, and brought those elite French techniques back to Virginia.

That's the Fancy Nancy part.

Oui, oui.

And for the sauce today, I went full Heming style.

I started with a classic French béchamel, just a simple butter and

flour roux cooked with warm milk.

Then I loaded it with freshly grated Parmesan, mozzarella, and Romano cheese.

I tossed a whole box of cooked elbow noodles in the baking pan and poured the

sauce right over it with a little butter

Nancy A. May: So I got a question for you, Sylvia.

This one I'm a little skeptical on.

Did James Hemings actually use those specific cheeses, Parmesan,

mozzarella, and Ro- and Romano?

I mean, really, this is colonial times

Absolutely he did.

I pulled an exact recipe directly from the National Archives of Thomas Jefferson.

Hemings was sourcing these European cheeses to recreate the high-end

dishes he mastered in France

Nancy A. May: You know, that's amazing.

and then you just put it all together and it just bubbles

up in about eight to 10 minutes?

I'll use what the boys said when they were

little, easy cheesy is what it is.

James,

Nancy A. May: I love that

James Hemings' exact 1700s technique is literally how we make

gourmet homemade mac and cheese today.

Jefferson just gets the credit because he wrote it down in his own records

Nancy A. May: Okay, now while your Southern table is looking fantastic

with mac and cheese, we can't leave out my old home stomping grounds of

New England for dinner, of course.

What do you have brewing in that Crockpot over there?

You know, I would never leave New England out.

so what I made today was a true northern staple.

authentic Revolutionary War-style New England baked beans

Nancy A. May: wow, the molasses smells just incredible.

Now, I've never made baked beans myself other than opening a can, but

how long have these been cooking?

Literally all night.

In colonial New England, especially around Boston, these were traditionally started

on Friday night and baked low and slow in a brick oven for Saturday dinner.

You'd take dried navy beans, soak them, and then layer them in a pot of salt

pork and dark molasses, a little mustard, and an onion stuck with whole cloves

Nancy A. May: And then back then they didn't even have refined

white sugar, so they used molasses as the ultimate flavor engine.

Although I think I'm gonna ask Bob to make a brick oven for us in the back.

I'm sure he'll do it for you.

But the salt pork melts completely into the beans over 12 hours, making

them insanely rich, smoky, and sweet.

It's pure northern survival food that became an absolute cultural classic

Nancy A. May: Yeah, there are restaurants that have been named after that one.

So I see you also brought out some serious side dishes to balance

out some of that rich dairy and heavy molasses in the beans too

Oh, you know I have to.

I've got a big heap of homemade sauerkraut and some crisp fermented

pickles that I made myself.

Just a little thyme, salt, and vinegar doing their magic.

Though, full disclosure, the hardest part is remembering to burp the sauerkraut

jar every day during the first week of fermentation so it doesn't explode

Nancy A. May: Explode?

Oh, boy.

I can't imagine exploding sauerkraut in my kitchen.

Now that's a bad day.

but back then fermenting wasn't a trendy hobby.

Now that makes me sound old.

it was pure survival.

It allowed families to store food for months and literally prevented

scurvy during those brutal winters.

You know, my sister out in Oklahoma is a big canner.

I haven't done it.

Actually, I shouldn't say that.

I did it with my mom once, and we both decided we'd never do it again.

Well, the great thing about doing the pickles and the sauerkraut,

you don't have to can anything.

So literally you can make it in your pantry, a dark pantry, and

also in your refrigerator as well.

So there's none of that boiling and all that process.

it's really, as I said earlier, easy cheesy.

Nancy A. May: peasy . I'm gonna have to give it a try then

Yes.

And the acidity cuts right through my rich bechamel sauce and the

sweetness of those baked beans.

It's a perfect match

Nancy A. May: Okay, so my fork is getting ready or my fork is quivering

at this point and I'm starving.

So let's take a quick break before we pass out from a food

coma and we'll be right back.

Don't go anywhere, guys.

Dessert and real colonial whiskey are right on the other side.

Nancy A. May: Woo-hoo!

Okay, and we are back.

The kitchen is open again, and it smells like cinnamon and

warm brown sugar and dark fruits

I just finished up our dessert, a beautiful,

deeply rustic apple pandowdy

Nancy A. May: Hmm.

Apple pandowdy?

I haven't heard of that one although that's a pretty weird name.

What exactly does pandowdy mean?

Well, It's basically the laid back, unpretentious

cousin of the classic apple pie.

There's no perfect rolling or crimping required.

you just toss your sliced apples with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a

splash of cider, and then drape a rustic pie dough right over the top

Nancy A. May: Ooh, well, that sounds perfect for me because I

am not good at making pie crust.

and it sounds like my baking.

Now, how does it actually get that unique bumpy texture?

Oh, this is the fun part.

Halfway through the baking, you take a wooden spoon and literally smash down…

the crust into the bubbling apple juices

Nancy A. May: Ooh, that does sound, sound like fun.- So the dough just drinks up all

that caramelized, apple cider and flavor.

And hang, you might wanna pour a splash of whiskey in there too, or brandy.

But that's coming later.

It becomes half crispy, half gooey.

It was actually Abigail Adams' absolute favorite dessert, and

I used her personal recipe today

Nancy A. May: Ooh, I love Abby, right?

It looks incredible,

Don't forget the ladies

Nancy A. May: absolutely we won't.

We owe them.

Anyway, while that cools down, it's time for my personal grand finale

Whoa!

Hold on.

A massive wave of rich spice hit me What is that, Nancy?

Nancy A. May: That, my friend, is George Washington's actual personal

favorite recipe for cherry bounce.

I f- I love that name, right?

I followed his handwritten archives to the T

I am curious, how long has that been hiding in your

pantry and you haven't touched it?

Nancy A. May: Well, that's the hard part.

Because we knew this episode was coming, so I had to prepare for it.

It takes three full months.

So you pack dark cherries, Bob pitted them all, and you smash

them with sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon into a massive glass jars.

Pack it really tight, and then just let it sit

And then just drown it in alcohol

Nancy A. May: Yeah.

Yeah, before you close the lid for three months, you drown it in a good amount

of rye whiskey or brandy, and then you just let time do the heavy lifting.

Washington was so obsessed with this stuff that he literally ordered a

traveler's flask of cherry bounce to be packed for his military marches.

I'm wondering how he managed to stay on his horse all those days, right?

in this kitchen right now, I completely understand why one sip of

that will help you survive Valley Forge.

Let's pour a drop purely for experimental purposes, obviously

Nancy A. May: Obviously not.

Mm, glug, glug, glug, glug.

Oh, wow.

That is beautiful and has a serious kick to it.

It's amazing.

I might wanna get on a horse after this one.

Right?

Oh man, the cherries completely smooth

out the burn of the whiskey.

It literally tastes like a warm blanket

Nancy A. May: it does.

That liquid heat going down your chest, it just tastes like history.

And dinner.

So we've covered breakfast and what we called supper or lunch around 2:30.

But dinner, well, dinner time wasn't a big deal back in 1776.

It was just typically a light snack or some leftovers or just maybe

an extra glass of cherry bounce to tide you over until breakfast the

next morning, or make you go to sleep

Looking at this entire table right now, Nancy, the hoecakes,

the peanut soup, the spatchcock chicken, the mac and cheese, the baked beans,

and the cherry bounce it just hits me

Nancy A. May: How's that?

Well, 1776 wasn't just an abstract history textbook

filled with pristine white rooms and men in perfect powdered wigs

Nancy A. May: No, I think their wigs were a little dusty.

Not at all, actually.

history was lived by real, ordinary, deeply stressed out people who were

actively fighting for survival, their liberty, and yes, ours.

Tired soldiers, anxious families, and brilliant enslaved chefs

Exactly when the world felt completely upside down, they walked into

a kitchen or tended a hearth fire just to find a single moment of peace and to

taste something that tasted like safety

Nancy A. May: And 250 years later, you know, here we are in

our kitchens, induction stove and all, doing the exact same thing

Thank you all so much for cooking through history

with us for our America 250 finale

… Nancy A. May: All the recipes and, easy step-by-step guides from today's marathon

are waiting for you in the show notes at Podcast.FamilyTreeFoodStories.com.

So try one tonight or maybe over the weekend, and you can literally

taste what the past was like

Next Thursday, we are switching gears to keep

cool in this brutal Florida heat during the dog days of summer.

We've got some delightful summer salads, grilled specialties, and believe it or

not, maybe a homemade dog biscuit recipe or two for BB and the mighty Quinn.

Nancy A. May: The mighty queen, yes it's hot everywhere in our country

literally and figuratively I can't wait.

So happy cooking everyone

And happy experimenting.

We'll see you next Thursday

Nancy A. May: Take care.

Bye-bye.