Origin of a Dish: Sweet Potato Casserole with Marshmallows (with a greatly improved recipe!)

Posted on November 25, 2013 by Sarah Lohman

A better sweet potato casserole, with fancy lemon-citron marshmallows.

Sweet Potato Casserole topped with warm, melty marshmallows is a Thanksgiving classic. But whenever I eat it, I find myself thinking “Why is this so awful? Who wants all the flavorless sweet glop next to their turkey?” Recently, I’ve been making savory, roast sweet potatoes instead of a casserole. But I thought perhaps by looking in to the origins of this dish, I might be able to retronovate a better modern casserole. Let’s see if it works!

The History

Sweet potatoes are a new world tuber, although they weren’t present at the Original Thanksgiving. Native to Central and South America, they were introduced to the North via colonists from Europe. Columbus is credited was transporting them home to the Old World (although he seems to be mis-credited with a lot of stuff) and by the 16th century they appeared in a British herbal encyclopedia, which recommends serving them “roasted and infused with wine, boiled with prunes, or roasted with oil, vinegar, and salt.” (source) Yum/Nom.

Sweet Potato in the 1597 Herball or Generall Historie of Plantes

Historians suspect that this recipe for “potatoe pudding” is actually a sweet potato pudding recipe. It appears in the first America cookbook published in 1796, and we have definite sweet potato recipe examples by the 1830s, which would indicate they were pretty entrenched in American culture by that time. So let’s skip ahead to the marshmallows.

Marshmallows were very trendy at the turn of the 20th century. Formerly an expensive, handmade treat, machines had been invented to automate the process. Using marshmallows in one’s kitchen was considered very modern, as well as labor saving: housewives were encouraged to substitute them for meringue and whipped cream, two very laborious toppings. (source)

The first recipe to top candied sweet potatoes with marshmallows allegedly comes from a 1917 Angelus Marshmallow recipe booklet, but I haven’t been able to lay my hands on a copy to verify that claim. The earliest recipe I’ve seen comes from a 1918 trade journal called Sweet Potatoes and Yams. It’s filled with growing and storage tips for tubers, as well as casual racism.

WTF???

Let’s digress for a moment: imagine a world where racism is so embedded in the culture, that it was considered acceptable, if not hilarious, to include an image that compares a black woman to a possum in a trade journal about sweet potatoes. I debated not sharing this image, but I don’t believe in whitewashing history. Things sucked then; be glad for now, and always work towards a better future.

Just above the racist image/text is a recipe for candied yams with marshmallows:

I thought that the addition of lemon juice to the sweet potatoes might be a huge improvement. By adding acid, it would break up all the sweet on sweet action I normally get in sweet potato casserole. Then, after researching turn of the century marshmallows, I had another revelation:

Square marshmallows? From 1920.

Notice that the marshmallows in this 1920 ad are not the keg-shaped, dried out things we normally see in the grocery store. They more closely resemble what I would call “gourmet” marshmallows, that tend to have a moister texture and richer flavor. I realized that improving the quality of the marshmallows would greatly improve the quality of the dish.

You can buy gourmet marshmallows online, in bakeries, and you can make them yourself. I wandered around Whole Foods trying to find a suitable product, and stumbled across these “fancy” Lemon-Citron flavored marshmallows, imported from France.

Found only where the finest marshmallows are sold.

The Recipe

Sweet potatoes from a farm in upstate New York.

Improved Sweet Potato Casserole with Marshmallows
Adapted from Sweet Potatoes and Yams, 1918

1 dozen medium sweet potatoes (more or less, depending on size)
2 cups light brown sugar
1 cup water
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 lemon, juiced
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons salt
Fancy Marshmallows (of whatever brand/style/flavor of your choosing. Cinnamon, Yuzu, or Bourbon flavor have potential for this recipe) )

1. There are two ways your can prepare your sweet potatoes: You can wrap them in foil and bake them whole for 1 hour at 400 degrees before slicing them; this preparation method will give you a softer texture for the final dish. Or, you can do like I did: simply slice the potatoes thin and add them to the casserole; this method results in a firmer texture. You can also choose to leave the skins on or peel them.

2. In a medium saucepan, combine sugar, water, cinnamon, lemon juice, and butter. Place over high heat until sugar is dissolved. Stir, then pour over potatoes in casserole dish.

3. Sprinkle potatoes with salt.

4. If you pre-baked the potatoes, bake 30 minutes at 350 degrees. If you just sliced them, bake 2 hours at 375 degrees. In the last five minutes of cooking, scatter marshmallows over surface of the potatoes and turn temperature up to broil. Keep a careful eye on them so they brown, but don’t burn. Cool on a rack.

The Results

I thought the Lemon-Citron will pair well with the lemon juice in the casserole, and the short story is that it did. The whole recipe is probably the best sweet potato casserole I have ever had, blending the perfect amounts of spice, citrus, and caramelized sugar. Give it a whirl, experiment more, and I promise you it will be a great improvement to your Thanksgiving table.

History Dinner: Poor Man’s Potage and Tomato Soup Cake

Posted on April 29, 2011 by Sarah Lohman

Tomato Soup Cake. You’d never guess the secret ingredient. (it’s love!)

Last summer, I spent a week dining on recipes from MFK Fisher’s book How to Cook a Wolf. After I finished the project, there were two recipes I still wanted to try: Quick Potato Soup and Tomato Soup cake. So I invited over a few friends and we dined.

Soup was first, served with buttered, fresh-baked bread:

Modern technology has made this recipe easier: instead of hand-grating a million potatoes, I used an immersion blender. I softened then onions first, simmering them slowly in a whole stick of butter. Delicious. Then I added the potatoes, cubed but unpeeled, and about a quart of water. I brought them to a boil and cooked the mixture until the potatoes were fork tender. I heated a quart of whole milk on the stove while I used my blender to puree the soup. I left it a little chunky, ’cause that’s how I roll. I tasted the soup and added a generous quantity of salt and some pepper.

I used about 3/4 the amount of liquid that Fisher recommends; when I initially added the milk, the soup looked too thin. But I let it bubble away on a low heat for about 30 minutes and it thickened up to a pleasant consistency. This morning, the leftovers were souper thick, which is how I like it.

I served the soup topped with what I thought was flat leaf parsley, but was actually cilantro. It didn’t matter, it was really tasty. I also sprinkled parmesan cheese over top, which put a nice finish on the soup. Simple ingredients, simple preparation, and simply delicious: the qualities that Fisher’s recipes are known for.

Potato and Onion Soup– one of the most perfect foods.

Dessert was Tomato Soup Cake:

The “soda” is baking soda and can be whisked in with the flour and spices. I left out the clove, which I find to be an overpowering flavor, and used a very satisfactory blend of 1 tsp cinnamon, and a 1/2 tsp each nutmeg and ginger. My “what you will” was one fuji apple and 3/4 cup chopped walnuts. And yes: I added one can of Campbell’s “Soup at Hand” Classic Tomato Soup.

I didn’t make the frosting of “cream cheese and powdered sugar and a little rum” that Fisher recommends, although it sounds awesome. I made a glaze with confectioner’s sugar and the juice and zest of a lemon. Although the cake is great without frosting, too.

“This is a pleasant cake,” Fisher says, “which keeps well and puzzles people who ask what kind it is.” I let my guests venture guesses as to the surprise ingredient. They were nearly finished with their cake slices when someone finally said “Tomatoes?” Initially, everyone dropped their cake in horror. Then they found peace with the idea and wolfed the remainder down.

The cake was incredibly moist–shockingly most–without being heavy. The spice blend was perfect. Maybe you could taste tomatoes, but I’m not sure: I think it just added richness and depth to the other flavors. And since the soup replaces milk and eggs, the cake is also vegan (as long as you use shortening, not butter).

I would absolutely, without a doubt make this cake again.

History Dish Mondays: The Bone of the Potato

Posted on March 16, 2009 by Sarah Lohman

While doing research for the upcoming event at the Merchant’s house, I came across an interesting account of how Irish immigrants in the mid-century cooked potatoes:

“We have all wondered why our Irish servants persist in bringing half-boiled potatoes to the table, notwithstanding our repeated orders to the contrary. Dr. James Johnson, in his tour in Ireland, discovered that it was almost a universal custom among the poor of the country, to only half boil their potatoes, leaving the center so hard, that it is called the bone of the potato.” (Breakfast, Dinner and Tea, Viewed Classically, Poetically, and Practically, 1859)

“…I have since read further descriptions of ‘potatoes with a bone’ as early as 1812. The preference developed in hard times, for the undercooked potato was harder to digest, and seemed to stop hunger for a longer time.” (The American History Cookbook, Mark H. Zanger, 2003)

Essentially, the Irish way of making a potato is grossly under cook them. In addition to Zanger’s theory that the raw potatoes staved off hunger, it seems even more logical that by boiling the potatoes for half the time, they were also using half the fuel for their fires. It seems the Irish developed a taste for the half-raw potatoes, and brought the tradition with them to America. Irish women were often hired as cooks for American households; potatoes with the bone in did not go over well with their mistresses. The appropriate way of preparing vegetables in the 19th century was to boil them to a mush–up to three hours for fresh veggies.

***

Potatoes with the Bone In

Modern Recipe from The American History Cookbook by Mark Zanger

1. Peel potatoes.

2. Put whole potatoes in a pot with water to cover by one inch and one tablespoon salt.

3. Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer with lid off or ajar.

4. After 15 minutes, begin testing by pushing a fork into the center of a potato. When it goes in halfway and meets a hard part, the “bone,” the potatoes are ready.

Zanger suggests this would have been eaten with a cup of milk; a meal I’m familiar with from my Tenement Diet days. A starch and some protein will fill you up.

Rating: D. It’s actually not as bad as I expected them to be; but it tastes pretty “green.” Like a raw potato.

Fear not, however. There will be plenty cooked food to eat tonight as well. I have four perfect cider cakes and a pot of spiced carrot soup for the event tonight, as well as some mid-19th century cocktails up my sleeve.

The Battle Creek Diet, Day 2

Posted on February 24, 2009 by Sarah Lohman

Eggs Baked in Cream, I love thee.

Breakfast: Egg Baked in Cream, Whole Wheat Gem, and an Orange.

As I was preparing my baked eggs in cream, I suddenly remembered another reference to this recipe in the book Julie & Julia, the story of a woman who cooks every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It was a favorite dish of the book’s author, and she had referred to it as the perfect hangover cure. I looked up Mrs. Child’s recipe for Oeufs en Cocotte, which was slightly more refined than the one I made. She recommends heating the cream first, then dropping the eggs in, and covering it with more cream and a little butter before putting them in the oven. It’s important to set the egg dish in water, “otherwise the intense heat of the over toughens the outside layers of egg before the inside has cooked…The eggs are done when they are just set but still tremble slightly in the ramekins.”

Child recommends cooking them 7-10 minutes at 375 degrees. I left my eggs in a little long and they got over cooked (the yolk was not as runny as I would have liked) but still tasted AWESOME. When it came out of the oven, I garnished it with more salt and some fresh cracked pepper. The cream and the egg white melded together, and become something that transcended a mere egg to taste like the most creamy egg-like thing in existence. I sopped up the creamy-egg-goo with my whole wheat gem, and slurped the rest off a spoon. After finishing the meal with a perfectly ripe orange, I decided that this might have been the best breakfast EVER.

Lunch: Scalloped Potatoes, String Beans, and Cottage Cheese.

The scalloped potatoes were another huge success: the combination of the onions and the milk gave the potatoes an addictive, sweet flavor, and the butter tied everything together. I was literally licking the bottom of my bowl. I would definitely make this again. Hell, I’d take it to a potluck!

The beans I simply blanched and salted, and the cottage cheese came from a regular old Breakstone’s container.

Dinner: Walnut Roast with Chile Sauce, Mashed Potatoes, Radishes.

My second night of making meatless meat was slightly better than the first. I halved this recipe and I used a seasoned bread crumb. It is important to let it sit in the cream and milk for at least 10 minutes. It coagulates into a surprisingly thick goop. When it came out of the oven (40 minutes at 375 degrees) it poofs up on top and looks all brown and yummy. For the chili sauce, I used tomato paste and thinned with a little water in place of “condensed tomatoes.” It was actually good, just a bit strong. I could have thinned it out a little more. Combined with the Walnut Roast…well, it was okay. I ate about half, but it was kind of intense and weird. I don’t think we have a winner yet.

The were no cooking suggested in Ms. Cooper’s book for mashed potatoes, so I made them the classic way, with some butter and a shot of cream. Ditto with the radishes. I ate them in the French fashion, smeared with butter and sprinkled with salt. The fat cuts the tart bite of the radish, and it’s very tastey.

Walnut Roast. It would be nice to eat a dinner that doesn’t look like kitty catfood barf.

On day two, I have to say that these meals are consistently well rounded. Produce plus a starch plus a protein keep me full and give me energy. And my bowels are immaculate!

Temporal Fusion Cuisine: Fiamma’s Gnocchi

Posted on January 14, 2009 by Sarah Lohman

I wanted to share with you an amazing food I recently consumed. I did a video with Josh Ozersky of The Feedbag at Fiamma restaurant here in New York.

Chef Fabio Trabocchi prepared a gnocchi recipe, exceptional in it’s preparation of the potatoes, which are placed in a dutch oven with hay, and left to smoke and smolder on a stove top. The result is a potato that is infused with the smokey flavor of a dish cooked over an open fire. The recipe also calls for the addition of a pinch of nutmeg, a flavour very common to 19th century cooking.

When I took a bite of the tender potato dumplings, the combination of the nutmeg and the smokiness instantly transported me back to my time at a living history museum, and the hearth-cooked meals we would prepare. This is a dish I would dub “Temporal Fusion Cuisine,” a phrase I coined to describe food which relies heavily on flavors or techniques from culinary history, and combines it with contemporary culinary culture. Although Trabocchi did infuse the hearth-cooked flavor intentionally, I don’t think he intended the strong references to 19th century American cookery that this dish contains. Additionally, it was incredibly delicious, and I encourage the home chef to give this one a whirl.

You can get the full recipe here, and watch Trabocchi prepare the dish in the video below.

The Feedbag Makes Gnocchi with Fabio Trabocchi from The Feedbag on Vimeo.