I pretty much write about whatever I find interesting at the time and find a way to tie it to oysters or seafood. Philadelphia hoagies, the history of chili peppers, unconventionally flavored potato chips. Luckily, most of my interests are culinarily focused or akin, so it aligns rather easily. I enjoy gardening, so I made a ceviche with homegrown produce. I like underrepresented history, so I did a piece on famous oysterman and abolitionist Thomas Downing. However, I'm also a massive sports fan, and nothing is better than playoff baseball, especially with the Phillies in the mix. #RingTheBell. #RedOctober. So, as we're heading into the MLB postseason, I wanted to do an exploration of ballpark cuisine with a seafood twist.
Of all the professional sports, none is more closely tied to culinary fare than baseball. Popcorn, beer, soft pretzels. It's a stop-and-go game full of frequent lulls that are perfect for grabbing some grub. Some say a ballgame isn't the same without a hot dog, others say a hot dog isn't the same without a ballgame. Baseball is also full of tense moments and nervous energy, perfect fidget snacks like sunflower seeds and peanuts. The iconic 7th inning stretch's Take Me Out to the Ball Game literally has ballpark culinary staples right in the lyrics. I don't even need to say them and any American reading this knows exactly what those foods are. If you think about it, that's objectively pretty funny.
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| via TheBayOnline.com |
Seafood and baseball are closely tied as well. Beach season and baseball season are the twin tides of summer. And over the last few decades, several seafood offerings have steadily flowed into the ballpark. Oracle Park's garlic crab fries, Fenway Park's lobster rolls, T-Mobile Park's poke bowls. The Baltimore Orioles have hosted Crab Fest games at Camden Yards, and the Milwaukee Brewers reportedly have a secret Friday Fish Fry in American Family Field's section 208. Double A's Richmond Flying Squirrels even showcased a 300 pound monstrosity earlier this year with the world's largest crab cake. I hope it at least tasted good.
Beyond the dishes, many ballplayers have been dubbed with seafood nicknames. Tim Salmon and Mike Trout might not count, but Catfish Hunter and Oyster Burns certainly do. Several minor league teams' names and mascots are also seafood inspired. The Biloxi Shuckers, Jersey Shore Blue Claws, Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp. There's a collegiate league team out of Seattle known as the DubSea Fish Sticks. The Carolina Mudcats have Muddy, a flathead catfish, as their mascot, and Japan's Chiba Lotte Marines have Nazo No Sakana (謎の魚), or Mysterious Fish, as their mascot.
Ballpark Food History
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| Stevens Scorecard via Our Game |
Stevens passed away in 1934, but the concessions game continued on. Ballparks themselves followed America's Post-WWII car and highway development and migration from cities to suburbs. Stadiums became soulless, concrete multi-purpose shells in the industrial outskirts of town, prioritizing capacity over quality. The food largely followed. Some diversity came in the form of nachos and pizza, but they served mostly the classics. That's not inherently an issue, but it was when the quality decreased. Stale soft pretzels, tepid hot dogs, rubbery burgers; the AstroTurf of cuisine. Concessions operations became consolidated to a few major conglomerates, and they mirrored the prioritization of capacity over quality. Even today, all 30 MLB teams' concession programs are operated by just six companies. The rise of agribusiness in the 60's and 70's diminished our foodways well beyond just the ballpark's, but that's a whole other conversation.
While not canon in classic ballpark cuisine, nachos have become a staple at practically every stadium. As noted, hot dogs, peanuts, and popcorn go back to the early 20th century. Nachos at ballgames first appeared the 1970s. The original nachos, invented in the 1940s on the US-Mexico border, were fried tortilla chips, jalapeños, and cheese baked in an industrial oven. Not an ideal offering for fast paced concession stands. However, in 1976, Frank Liberto of Ricos Foods invented a shelf stable, pourable spicy cheese sauce, enabling nachos to be served efficiently. Liberto first sold them at Arlington Stadium for a Texas Rangers' game, and they were an instant hit. Within a decade, nachos with cheese sauce were being sold at practically every convenience store, concert, movie theater, and of course, ballpark.
Everyone loves nachos. Pretty much everyone loves crab. And everyone I know loves crab nachos. It's a well established dish, and was a no brainer to kick off my ballpark seafood trials. I picked up ½ pound of fresh picked lump blue crab meat on my way back from a brief trip to the shore. Once home, I grated Tillamook cheddar over Mission tortilla rounds, added the crab with pickled jalapeños, black olives, and ample amounts of Old Bay. Into a 400° oven it went and additional toppings were up next. I mixed up a quick pico de gallo with some garden fresh tomatoes, peppers, garlic, cilantro and lime. I also made a crab-seasoned nacho cheese sauce with a roux, heavy cream, shredded cheddar, Old Bay and a little bit of the pickled jalapeño brine.
After about 15 minutes, the crab nachos were bubbly brown and ready to go. I took them out of the oven and drizzled on the cheese sauce with a few dollops of Daisy. Cheeky little Old Bay seasoned lime and it was time to serve. They were delicious, at least from the few bites I had. Cheesy, savory, and spicy with a bright acidity from the pico de gallo and sweet, briny bites of lump crab meat. I'm sure my wife and kids would have articulated the same. But, instead of bases, they were too busy stealing chips and clearing plates. Hey, at least I tried. Nacho easiest pun situation.
Seafood Bratwurst
The natural choice here would be seafood hot dogs. I made and profiled smoked trout dogs a few years ago, which were delightful, but I wanted to try something new. Next to the classic ballpark frank, nothing says I'm at a ballgame quite like a brat. I picked up some day-boat scallops, monkfish, and a Northern Atlantic lobster tail from Hill's Quality Seafood. Chef Cuso's rustic style of seafood sausage looked interesting, but I was swinging for the fences on this one. Proper sausage maker, 10mm plate, coarse grind, stuffing in hog casings. The seafood all got a rough chop and mixed with proportional bratwurst seasoning. I've made pork bratwurst several times before, both by toasting and grinding my own spices, and using premade spice mixtures. Maybe I'm just an inept spice crafter, but the premade mixtures have always turned out better for me, especially with A.C. Legg's Bratwurst Seasoning. Don't mess with a winning lineup, right? I set the mixture in the freezer to chill and meld for a few minutes. Rule one of sausage making is keeping everything ice cold. Otherwise the fat will render and the meat will smear, leaving you with a nasty paste rather than a coarse grind. I wasn't sure the same logic applied to shellfish, but I wasn't about to test and find out.
My wife is from Wisconsin. As such, I know a brat is not a brat without peppers and onions, so I sautéed some while I waited. Once the seafood mix was fully chilled, I added a little lager (Wisconsin-style, again) then ran it through the coarse grind and into hog casings. I ended up with only two brats, but they were big league sized. Seafood's expensive, and I'm a baller on a budget. Onto the grill they went for 5 minutes, then into some Amoroso's Italian Rolls with the peppers and onions, horseradish, and spicy mustard. Give 'em the heater, Ricky! And they were delicious. Discernibly bratwurst with that herbaceous, peppery-nutmeg flavor, but they had a distinct, oceanic sweetness, especially from the toothsome lobster. The caramelized peppers and onions brought in that familiar savory-sweet and the horseradish a piquant zest. I shared the other with my neighbor, and he agreed: web gem worthy.
No ballpark cuisine post would be complete without Cracker Jack. Recipes for candied popcorn & peanuts in the States go back to the early 19th century. However, Frederick Rueckheim is largely credited with its popularization. He and his brother first reportedly offered it at the 1893 World's Fair. A patron tried some and declared "whoa, that's crackerjack!," which was slang for something excellent or outstanding. Rueckheim trademarked the name Cracker Jack in 1896, and in that same year, there's record of it being a concession at an Atlantic City game. Then, in 1908, Jack Norworth penned Take Me Out to the Ball Game and Cracker Jack was forever deified within baseball. Just imagine what food that might be if "and Cracker Jack" didn't rhyme with "never get back." Also, I don't say deified lightly. Check out what happened when the Yankees tried to replace Cracker Jack with Crunch 'n Munch.Cracker Jack is made with popcorn, right? And popcorn shrimp is a popular dish. So why not shrimp cracker jack? I picked up some rock shrimp from Hill's Quality Seafood, along with peanuts, molasses, and other fixins' at my local market. Cracker Jack has those distinct, red skinned Virginia peanuts, and most markets around me don't sell them in shelled, cocktail form. No problem, though — I had the kids shell (or shuck!) them. They were more than happy to be involved. I also created a simple brown sugar syrup with some vanilla extract and molasses and set it to the side. I wanted to mimic that Cracker Jack candy flavor, but that classic butter based caramel wouldn't work in this instance. Next, batter up! I mixed water with equal parts AP flour and potato starch, per the instruction of Dredgemaster Flex, a.k.a. Rizzi from Lou's Takeaway. Dude knows how to fry. The AP would create that familiar popcorn shrimp breading, and the potato starch would ensure it stayed crisp enough to hold up to the caramel coating.
