In Search of Coddies
My Girl Wants to Coddie All the Time, Coddie All the Time, Coddie All the Tiiiiiiiiiime...
When Robert did an event in February 2020 on Hilton Head, South Carolina, alongside the writer and historian, Toni Tipton-Martin, he brought back her latest cookbook, Jubilee. Just weeks later we were stuck in lockdown and Jubilee became an important part of our early Covid-era cooking. Robert started working his way through the book almost immediately, and one night he made the Codfish Balls: a fried ball comprised of potatoes, mustard, salt, pepper, onion, garlic, egg, salt cod and bread or cracker crumbs. They were an instant hit with me.
A year and a half later, when the tropical bar Sunken Harbor Club opened above Gage & Tollner in Brooklyn, we found they served codfish fritters. They became my go-to food order there. Still are.
A few months ago, when we decided to head south to Baltimore in search of a regional food, we did some advance research. I saw: Southern Maryland’s Stuffed Ham (a great contender); Scrapple (I grew up on this); Snowballs (yum!—but February); Peppermint sticks in half a lemon (I also grew up on these); Berger cookies (sort of like New York’s Black and White cookies, but smaller and minus the white); Lake Trout (very “The Wire” centric); Crab cakes (yawn); Crab Imperial (too “Crab Louie”), and… “Coddies.”
What the…!? I looked up Coddies. They were described as a salt codfish ball/cake, made with potatoes, milk or eggs, crackers, onion, salt and pepper and eaten between two saltine crackers with mustard.
This sounded like the perfect food for me! Starting in the early twentieth century Coddies were a cheap snack sold for a penny a piece. Corner shops, delis, pharmacies and bars put them on their counters next to jars of mustard and saltines.
We had our assignment. Baltimore, here we come!
I am a big fan of Baltimore, but the Baltimore chapter of my life happened more than three decades ago in the late eighties and early nineties. My brother, Rich, and his wife, Gayle, were both doctors and lived there in the early parts of their careers. They had two of their three sons there. Also, my good friend at Northwestern University, John, was raised there and after years of running the projection booth at the Charles Theater, it came up for sale and he bought it with his Uncle Buzz.
Also, one of our clients at the casting agency where I worked gave me tickets to opening day at the then-brand-new Camden Yards (April 6, 1992). It was easy for me to love Baltimore. I remember visiting family, dining out, heading to the Inner Harbor for drinks and hanging around the theatre neighborhood. I also remember sweeping the floor of the Charles Theater after the movie let out, with Rollmops the cat walking around, and having my photo taken in front of some monument. But, I don’t remember much more than that.
When Robert and i decided to go to Baltimore and started to look for Coddies, I got in touch with both my brother and my friend John. But they had never heard of them. I was shocked, since John grew up there. Then, we asked our friends Sandy and Martin, who lived there more recently; no, they had not heard of them either. This made me a little nervous, as I was pretty sure Coddies were a “thing” there.
I found some recent articles in Preservation Baltimore, The Baltimore Sun and Baltimore Magazine that touted Coddies return over the past five or six years, with quotes from those who made them. I found restaurants, delis, fish markets and shops that still sold Coddies. First stop: Vikki’s.
Vikki’s Fells Point Deli, 1640 Alliceanna St. (located at the Broadway Market)
I was so excited as I burst into the corner stall at the Broadway Market that I’m sure I looked even more touristy and rIdiculous than I thought. I asked for Coddies and a woman, whom I’m pretty sure was Vikki, told me that they were out of season. I thought to myself, “When the hell does Salt Cod go out of season?” She didn’t look like she wanted to talk about it further, so I got into a brief conversation with a regular at the counter about the glories of scrapple. He had just finished a plateful of the stuff. As we were leaving, he suggested I try a place called Barracudas for Coddies.
Coddie Situation: Fail. But we received a clue.
Attman’s Deli, 1019 East Lombard Street
Next stop, Attman’s Deli. Having opened in 1915, Attman’s is pretty much the only business left in this section of Lombard Street. Reminding me of the solo brownstone in the movie “Batteries Not Included,” Attman’s was a beacon of deli culture on what used to be a block filled with delicatessens. They have two other locations in Baltimore, but I wanted to go to the original.
We went inside and sure enough, they had Coddies on the menu. “I’ll have two Coddies please,” I blurted out. “Do you want them heated?” the counter man asked. Did I have a sign that said “I’m a jerk” on my forehead? Who the heck eats cold potato/fish cakes? Apparently, people from Baltimore. I asked for them heated. He also asked Robert if we wanted them assembled or with the saltines on the side. Robert, not knowing what to say, asked him to put them together and soon we were on our way to the side dining room, called the Kibbitz Room.
I took a bite and wasn’t immediately sold. The Coddie wasn’t heated all the way. It wasn’t a ball; it was a flattish cake, like a knish. And the cracker was only half the size of the patty. It had the coloring of a salmon cake, speckled with dots of green (parsley?) and onion. It did, in fact, taste like a knish. I was confused, but at least I had eaten a Coddie.
Coddie Situation: They sell them. They taste like knishes. Robert and I argued about whether there was Cod in them. Robert was right. There is no Cod in them; there is something called “fish flakes.” My first Coddie was unfortunately not my favorite, even with nothing to compare it to. But, at $2.29 each, would I eat them again? Why, yes, yes I would.
The History of Coddies
In 1955, a man named Joseph Gunzelman wrote an article in the Baltimore Sun titled, “I remember Northeast Market Fifty Years Ago.” He wrote that he recalled getting Coddies at the market, where his father had a mead stall. (Yes, mead.) He would play out front and then go into the market to buy Coddies for 2 cents each from Moser’s seafood, and wash them down with his dad’s mead.
If we believe Gunzelman’s account, this was a few years earlier than the generally accepted origin story of the Baltimore Coddie, which involves a family called the Cohens. Leonard Cohen claimed his father, Louis, a Jewish immigrant, first sold Coddies. They were made from a recipe Louis’ wife Fannie came up with in 1910. Louis had wanted to sell non-kosher crab cakes to make more money at the Bel Air Market. Fannie didn’t want anything to do with that and supposedly came up with the Coddie. They were so popular, Louis bought a truck to sell them all over town as “Cohen’s Original Tasty Coddies.” He went on to become the largest distributor of Coddies in Baltimore.
Of course, it’s not that simple. One thing I’ve learned about the history of food and drink while side-kicking it with Robert for nearly a decade is that often it’s impossible to get to the bottom of things and the simplest story may not necessarily be the best answer. Rather, that oft-repeated origin story may be made up by some capitalist trying to promote their brand.
We can safely say that Coddies were invented in the early 20th century in Baltimore, most likely at one of the markets. They were sold cheaply and a diverse group of the sons and daughters of Baltimore loved them. We don’t know who came up with them first. Louis Cohen’s wife, Fannie? Maybe, maybe not. But one thing is for sure—Cohen popularized them by starting a Coddie factory, advertising them and selling them from a truck all over Baltimore. He got them out there.
There are other claims to Coddies. One article I read quoted someone from Pikesville, Maryland, who said her grandmother brought the recipe over from Bohemia in the 1800’s. Robert found several mid-20th-century advertisements for Davis Bros. Coddies, a brand that could be shipped anywhere and served with tomato sauce. The Davis Bros. brand was aimed squarely at Catholic consumers. (The company’s mascot was a hat-wearing cod named Deep Sea Dave.)
And it should be noted that there were early African-American cod cakes in existence already when the Coddie came along. Cod was an inexpensive fish. Also, sailors had long salted the cod on the ships to preserve it for lengthy voyages. And Baltimore was for many years the second largest city in the United States and a major port.
Toni Tipton-Martin wrote in her book, Jubilee:
I confess that trying to understand the difference between all the fish fritters, patties, croquettes, cutlets, cakes, and balls in African-American heritage cooking nearly drove me crazy. It is fascinating, though, to follow the evolution of small fried salt cod batter balls from the African diaspora to its rebirth as a breakfast staple—salmon croquettes—to the plump Maryland crab cakes that grace menus in fine-dining restaurants today.
Mama’s on the Half Shell: 2901 O'Donnell Street
It was just before noon and we found ourselves sitting at the bar of one of the two Mama’s locations. We chose the original that was two decades old, next door to its slightly older sister restaurant, Nacho Mama’s. They had Coddies on the menu, so there we were. Robert ordered the Maryland crab soup and I got the Coddies. They came three to a plate, with mustard and saltines on the side. They were hot on the outside, warm in the middle and good. Very good. More of a croquette than a knish, this was more my style. I was encouraged.
Coddie Situation: Very good. Definitely contained Cod. Crispy outside, fluffy inside. $14 for three. All in all, these would be in the top three.
Faidley’s at Lexington Market: 203 N. Paca Street
Robert checked into the hotel. I waited in the car. I was too excited. I was on the job, Coddie hunting! We drove to Faidley’s at the Lexington Market. Founded in 1886, Faidley’s Seafood is a Baltimore institution. I’m not going to tell you that I couldn’t find the market, or that I drove into the wrong side of the building and then in the out door of the parking lot and had to back down the street, but I did. The streets in Baltimore are made to keep tourists out. Which is probably a good thing, because everyone in Baltimore drives through red lights.
Faidley’s market was beautiful. Just adjacent to the Lexington Market (the longest running market in the country, since 1776), it looked old. The rest of Lexy obviously had recently had some modernizing work done, but Faidley’s looked her age and I loved it. When we finally figured out where to place our order, a terse woman quickly asked what we wanted. I told her, but I wasn’t fast enough. She was annoyed. She obviously had more important things to do, but my wanting to be a customer was stopping her.
I walked down the old cafeteria-style counter and waited for the Coddies. In just a minute, they were handed to me in a paper food tray by a different terse woman. Just Coddies. No mustard. No saltines.
“Can I have some crackers?” I asked. She tossed them on the plate and said, “The mustard’s on the table.” I turned to leave. “The mustard’s on the table!” she yelled at me. “I heard you,” I said, perhaps a bit brusquely. This was too much for her. I walked over to the table that Robert had selected and saw the saleslady stomp out, while a different woman stepped up to her register. I had seen her when I came in. She was more my age and although she wasn’t exactly smiling, I could tell by her “That Girl” flip hairstyle, she was definitely more fun.
After a few bites of what I can only say from my limited experience was a pretty darn good Coddie, I was emboldened to talk to her about it. “Hi,” I said. She didn’t exactly say “Hi” back, but she didn’t yell either. “Are you Mrs. Faidley?” I ventured. ”No, but I’m a Faidley. Eve Devine,” she replied. “These are good,” I said in my most appreciative voice. I was appreciative. “Is this an old family recipe?” “Yes,” she said, “they’re just mashed potato, salt, pepper, onion and salt cod in a panko crust. I love them plain with mustard and crackers.” I almost hugged her. “Yes!” I thought, “I too love them plain with mustard and crackers!” Stockholm Syndrome was setting in.
Coddie Situation: I loved these Coddies. Like Mama’s, they were more of a croquette, but there was old Baltimore in them, like Faidley’s. I really loved it there. It reminded me of Naples, Italy. The people were tough, but it was worth it to get to know the place. I’m not giving up. These Coddies were $3.95 each.
Dylan's Oyster Cellar, 3601 Chestnut Avenue
Dylan’s Oyster Cellar has been open about seven years. I know this because I asked the bartender how long they had Coddies and he said to the man behind me at a two-top along the wall, “Hey Dylan, how long have we had Coddies?” and the gentleman in the baseball cap, whom I can only assume is Dylan, said, “Since we opened, about seven years.”
I loved this place. We got there early, we parked. We walked up and down the street, which had adorable, but not overly prosperous stores. We went into a junk shop, where a woman kept saying, “Our yard sale was canceled—albums upstairs $2 each, downstairs $10-20.” There was no room to walk around, but Robert and I managed to go upstairs and he found Behind Closed Doors by Charlie Rich. Downstairs we found a James Moody from 1974 and a Johnny Hartman from 1977 and a very late Helen Humes from 1974 as well. We spent $40 (Charlie Rich was thrown in for free) and walked across the street to Dylan’s.
The woman at the door said, “Come in, it’s cold,” ten minutes before the 5 p.m. opening. They let us sit at the bar. In a few minutes the bar and the restaurant were almost full. Cocktails and Coddies ordered, we waited. The Coddies came plump, crispy and fragrant. I was so excited. They were hot. They were delicious. I didn’t want to give the second one to Robert, but I needed his opinion; I thought they were the best we had had. I read about the owner, Dylan Salmon, thinking of the Coddies of his youth and wanting to recreate that. But, I’m sure these were better. I will think about these Coddies for a long time.
Coddie Situation: At $6 for two Coddies, you will have some of the most delicious bar food in the country. The drinks were good, too. I’m sure everything there is good. My favorite Coddie, but maybe not the most traditional Coddie.
Barracudas Locust Point Tavern
The next day, Sunday, Robert and I drove to Barracuda’s around noon. The customer at Vikki’s had recommended it and I was sure these would be the best Coddies ever. We walked in and the bartender kindly said, “Come on in. There’s a table in the back.” As we began our walk to the table, we saw Beta-Blockers’ best customer make a beeline out of the kitchen, all red-faced. He said in a voice raspy (from what I can only guess is from extended screaming), “Non, non, I can seat you upstairs—I need these tables for a big party in case.” I said okay, no thanks, but can I just get some Coddies to go? And he said, “Yes, yes, they’re not on the menu, but I can make you Coddies.”
His slight acquiescence and coherency made me think the upstairs might not be so bad. But when I saw the sign that said “Stacey’s Baby Shower” at the top of the steps, I knew we were screwed. As I hit the second floor, I saw him making the host of the baby shower move gifts from the high-top table next to the party. (The only other customers in the room were the members of the shower.) So, we gave up. Next stop, Pikesville.
The Essen Room, 25 Hooks Lane, Pikesville, MD
During a historic house tour on Saturday, I had chatted with the tour guide. I told him I was there to research Coddies. “Ah,” he said, “Jewish Crabcakes.” He said that he grew up in Reisterstown, a community northwest of Baltimore, and there were plenty of Coddies to be had in that area and in neighboring Pikesville. Robert found me two places in Pikesville that had Coddies: The Essen Room and Lenny’s Delicatessen. Lenny’s was sold out of Coddies by the time we got there, but Essen was not.
Situated on the ground floor of what looked like an office building in the suburbs (think “where I went for an MRI last year”), The Essen Room was a total surprise. A friendly host greeted us and explained how to order. The place looked like a modern Jewish deli, the kind you might find on Long Island, and smelled great. And there was a pickle bar! I almost forgot about the Coddies.
The Coddies were Knish-like in texture, but lighter than Attman’s. I spoke to the gentlemen there, who told me that they were “the only place in town that uses salt cod.” I believe him, as long as “in town” means Pikesville. They were very good.
Coddie Situation: Knish-like, but lighter, and hot and good. I would have these all the time if I lived in Baltimore, and at $2.95 each, I could.
St. Benedicts
St. Benedict’s church was mentioned in an article as having the best Coddies for Lent. The church has stopped having services and are now just an outreach center. I called before we drove to Baltimore, but they did not answer. We drove by, saw the sign above, called again, but they still didn’t answer. We were not there on a Friday though; that may be the reason.
So, I went to their website. It read:
"Baltimore's Best" Coddies
Need your coddie fix? Coddies are $20 per box and includes 15 coddies. Crackers are available upon request. Place your orders by calling our office at 410-947-4988 Monday through Thursday between 10 am and 2 pm. Coddies can be picked up from our office on Fridays before 2pm. What a great way to fulfill your Lenten obligation to abstain from meat on Fridays.
Thank you for your support during this difficult transition for us. Your support allows us to fulfill our commitment to continuing our outreach programs.
That God May Be Glorified
So, there it is. Let me know if you try them.
Pappas Restaurant & Sports Bar, 1725 Taylor Avenue, Parkville, MD
Unfortunately, I did not wind up my Coddie search on a high note. When I looked up Coddies, a local chain called Pappas came up. Their website said that they had them. (Apparently, they also have Oprah’s favorite crab cakes.) As we drove out of Baltimore, we stopped in the Parkville location and asked for Coddies. They looked at me like I was crazy and they had no ideas what Coddies were. So, I had a cheeseburger. Robert had a crab cake, which he said was good, light and fluffy.
Summing it up
I was really smitten with this regional food in all its iterations. Saturday night, during our cocktail research, I sat next to a delightful man named Colby (“like the cheese,” he said). We chatted about his job at the Lexington Market; he worked for the Baltimore Museum of Art at their our outpost there. I asked him about Coddies. He said had grown up in Baltimore and purchased them cheaply at the corner delis as a kid, but he hadn’t thought about them in years. Most people in Baltimore had not, it seemed.
In our survey, we felt we sampled two kinds of Coddies. There were the kind that seemed like knishes, and the kind that seemed like croquettes. Both of those foods have early roots in the United States. Jewish people in Baltimore who kept kosher, and felt left out of the local crab cake feasts, could eat the Coddies because they contained no shellfish. Charm City’s Catholics, meanwhile, could enjoy the Coddies on Fridays in Lent when they were not allowed to eat meat. (For many years Catholics never ate meat on Fridays. Most now, do.) We ate the more Knish-like Coddies at Attman’s and Essen’s; and more croquette-like Coddies at Faidley’s, Mama’s and Dylan’s. We would like to try Vikki’s, Baracuda’s and St. Benedict’s some day. And any others we can find.
Coddies disappeared, for the most part, sometime in the mid-1970s owing to the rising cost of ingredients. Coddie makers were unable to keep up with cheaper snacks like chips and other grab-and-go treats. It’s only in recent years that they have made a comeback.
The story of Coddies was fascinating for me, but confusing, too. I think the truth is somewhere early in the twentieth century, intersecting all of Baltimore. It lies between the large African-American population, the Jews, the Catholics, the sailors—with everyone, really, in this whole hard-working city.
We have learned that the best regional food is typically found in old communities that haven’t exactly prospered, just as is the case with the most intact old architecture. These communities are largely unchanged, because folks just haven’t had the resources to “modernize,” and so the good stuff remains, albeit a little worse for wear.
Coddies are still in Baltimore, you just have to look for them.
Below is a recipe for Coddies that was printed in the Baltimore Sun in 1999. The contributor said, however, that the recipe had been handed down to him by “an old Highlandtown Hon.” (Everyone in Baltimore calls each other “Hon.”) So let’s assume this recipe hails from the mid-20th century. Either way it’s pretty solid, but doesn’t coat the Coddies in cracker or bread crumbs like some of the modern Coddie makers did. Be sure to serve the Coddies with Saltines and yellow mustard.
This is Baltimore Week at The Mix, Hon’! (It actually began last Friday with my Orange Crush Field Report.) Look for more Baltimore content from now through Friday!
Odds and Ends…
I wrote an article for Vinepair about the increasing quality of cocktails at New York tourist destinations like Lincoln Center, Moynihan Train Hall, Rockefeller Center and the Perelman Performing Arts Center… The Varnish, the trailblazing cocktail bar opened in downtown Los Angeles by Eric Alperin and the late Sasha Petraske, celebrated its 15th anniversary last week… Bartender Leanne Favre, who spent nine years behind the stick at Brooklyn’s Clover Club and its sister bar Leyenda, serving as Beverage Director at the former and Head Bartender at the latter, put in her last shift at both bars on Sunday, Feb. 18… Fulton Hot Dog King, a familiar staple along Fulton Street in downtown Brooklyn, closed suddenly last week after more than 100 years in business. A rent hike was blamed, causing the restaurant to lose its lease. The owners hope to reopen in a new location… Le French Tart Deli, the popular Carroll Gardens French food store, has opened its long-awaiting larger space on Court Street… The High West Distillery in Utah has released its first Bottled-in-Bond whiskey. It is a rye whiskey aged four years. The Mix can confirm that it is excellent. Suggested retail price is $80… The Ash Bar in Detroit is offering two kinds of hot dogs with its Happy Hour. The first is a Coney Dog with short rib coney sauce, yellow mustard, white onion on a duck fat brioche bun ($8). The second is a Caesar Dog topped with baby Gem Lettuce, Caesar dressing, fried parsley and colatura crouton ($14). You can get both, with fries, for $25… Our Haus in Red Hook, Brooklyn, is serving their version of the Minneapolis burger icon the Juicy Lucy on Sunday… The Paris Theater in Manhattan is running a film series of the best movies of 1974 from March 22 to March 28. Among the flicks featured at Chinatown, The Conversation, Blazing Saddles and California Split… Author Dwight Garner will be at the National Arts Club on Feb. 27 to talk about his new book The Upstairs Delicatessen… Porchlight Cocktail Book Club will host author Aaron Goldfarb, whose new book, Dusty Booze, will be released on March 4. Tickets are available here… Finally tried the famous Mustard Pie at Papa’s Tomato Pies, an institution in Robbinsville, NJ, since 1912. It is named so because there is a layer of mustard beneath the cheese and tomato. And we can confirm that the pizza tastes like…mustard. Interesting, to be sure, and perhaps a good choice with pork roll as a topping, but we prefer the classic tomato pie at Papa’s.
So excited to read the coddie report! We live within walking distance of Dylan’s and they are def my favorite coddies in town. When we first moved to this part of the city, 25 or so years ago, there were still corner stores with coddies sitting on the counter.
This was so much fun to read… I personally loved the photo of the coddies with two mustards next to them, both in plastic squeeze dispensers. There was the yellow mustard and next to it the DELI mustard. I’m glad Baltimore is not on my travel list anytime soon because my husband and I would go to every place that you two went to.
I’ll see you in New Jersey for the NJ fried hot dog crawl. lol 😂