Call it research. Yeah, let’s go with that.
The work-in-progress (the second in the Nora Best series from Severn House) is based on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and has a lot of regional food references. (Although, as I’m writing this, I realize there are no steamed crabs in the book, an unforgivable oversight that will be remedied posthaste).
But there are Maryland beaten biscuits, a childhood favorite, and a Baltimore peach cake, which I’d never heard of until I started writing the book.
It’s an unusual cake, made with yeast, more of a sweet bread topped with peaches. Given that my protagonist bakes one, only to see it meet a terrible fate, I figured I’d better bake it myself. You know, so I could get the details right. Not because peaches are one of my favorite fruits. Nope, not that at all. So I did and it was fine, but I’m not sure it’s the best use for peaches.
While I was at it, I decided to try the beaten biscuits, too, although unlike one of my secondary characters, I cheated and worked the dough in a food processor for a few minutes and only whacked it with a rolling pin for ten minutes rather than the 40 called for in traditional recipes (which suggest using everything from ax handles to hammers to beat the dough into submission). According to my modern-day recipe, I didn’t need to hit it with the rolling pin at all, but boy was it fun. Highly recommended as a stress reliever.
As for the biscuits themselves, they’re an acquired taste. The Orrell’s Beaten Biscuits from Wye Mills, Maryland, of my childhood looked like little golf balls and were only a little less hard. Mine weren’t quite as good, but they brought back great memories and for sure I’ll bake them again, especially if I’ve had a rough day at work.
Finally, because I had a kitchen full of peaches and because I’d forked over an insane amount of money for huckleberries (worth every penny) at the farmers’ market, I made a peach-huckleberry pie. It’s not in the book, but if I do say so myself, it was freaking fabulous.
And now, with all the peaches gone and my tummy full of pie, it’s time to stop baking and start writing again.
