Food Archives - Maggie InkMaggie Ink

This sweet treat was born in Chicago

August 30, 2023

You might think you don’t care about the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893, which was held in Chicago.

But let me tell you about some of the now-cherished items that debuted there: Cream of Wheat, Juicy Fruit gum, the chocolate bar (Hershey’s), Aunt Jemima Pancakes, the #2 yellow pencil, Shredded Wheat, the automatic dishwasher, Cracker Jacks, the zipper, Ferris wheels.

Also America’s first serial killer.

Right. We could’ve done without that last thing.

One of my favorite books, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson, delves into that World’s Fair and how it profoundly changed the country. The inventions! The murders! The new foods! The murders! Zippers! More murders!

It’s a gripping and wildly informative read, and it’s also a master class in nonfiction that reads like fiction.

What does all this have to do with a sweet treat?

Well, I was recently in Chicago with my high school girlfriends. As we walked around downtown, we passed by a place that sounded familiar from the book: the Palmer House Hotel.

I pulled my friends inside, not just because it’s a grand building …

And not just because it’s infused with historic details, like Mark Twain’s gallon-sized beer stein, and ostentatious lamps …

but because this is a place in food history!

Palmer House is where the brownie was invented.

As the story goes, the dessert was inspired by socialite Bertha Palmer, who was married to Potter Palmer, the millionaire owner of the hotel. She chaired the ladies’ board for the World’s Fair and tasked the hotel pastry chef with creating something that would be easy to box up and transport to the festival grounds.

Voila, the chef dreamed up brownies! (Although they weren’t called that until 1898, when they appeared in a Sears Roebuck catalog.)

The Palmer House confection is not quite to my taste, as I’m more of a crunchy edge brownie person, and this one has a gooey, fudge-like consistency. But hey, we need both kinds of brownie eaters in this world.

If you want to try it yourself, here’s the recipe. More than a century old, it’s the same one they use today.

On Shrinking Women

October 24, 2013

I watched this video from a poetry slam the other day, and it left me in tears.

Poet Lily Myers talks about body image and how it affected the women in her family, especially her mother: “Nights I’d hear her creep down to eat plain yogurt in the dark, a fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled, deciding how many bites is too many, how much space she deserves to occupy.”

My mom was strong and tall, a German woman who survived World War II by walking over a frozen lake. She could do anything — open stuck pickle jars, lift all the bags of groceries at once, push me higher than any other kid on the swingset. One time my plastic digital watch stopped working, and my mom slapped it across her palm so forcefully that it turned her hand pink. “Just needs a good German touch,” she said, as the digital numbers reappeared.

As much as her body could do, my mom was never satisfied with it. My house was a world of weekly weigh-ins, diet gum and Tab. I don’t remember my mom eating bread, only thin Wasa crackers at 35 calories each. Sometimes she binged on candy, then immediately berated herself. She was hungry for years, skipping breakfast and only eating the tiniest of lunches. This magnificent, accomplished woman was consumed by her own consumption.

It’s strange. I loved my mom because she was elegant and exotic. She tucked me into bed every night and whispered prayers in other languages. She was proud and loyal and she loved me fiercely. I don’t remember the shape of her thighs or the roundness of her belly. I remember her crinkled fingers that felt for fever on my forehead. I remember the arms that held me. The swoop of her freckled shoulder.

You could say my mom died of Alzheimer’s Disease, which is what gnawed away at her mind and body for 10 years. But really she died of starvation, which is a terrible irony. In the final stages of Alzheimer’s, my mom’s brain could no longer send signals to her organs, so her body couldn’t process food anymore. My family decided a long time ago that we did not want to prolong her life with feeding tubes, and eventually her body shut down. In her final days, she had been whittled down to a thin, pale shape. And she was beautiful.

That’s the awful thing. When I looked in my mom’s coffin at her funeral, my first thought was, “Wow. She would be so happy.” She was finally skinny. She would’ve loved that.

Somewhere along the line, I picked up these unhealthy thoughts and made them my own. I’ll eat something delicious, then complain to my friends that I’ve been “so bad.” I do regular detoxes and cleanses, the more modern, acceptable version of diets. And I look with longing at tiny, slim-boned women, and I wonder how wonderful it must feel to be so small.

Now my husband and I are trying to start a family, and he says he hopes we never have a girl. “I don’t want a daughter to grow up with your body issues,” he says, a comment that is so distressing in its truth. I could be one bad-ass mother to a girl — and instead I want to be small? Why not focus on being substantial? Something is very wrong here.

As that poet says, “I wonder if my lineage is one of women shrinking.” I wonder if my lineage could become one of women who are larger than life.

Month of fun: Day 29

September 29, 2011

Oh, it’s National Coffee Day? Well, this is a holiday I can wholeheartedly embrace.

I am a total coffee freak, which is why my caffeine-fueled trip around the globe could easily be subtitled: Americanos in Argentina, Lattes in Laos and How I Grudgingly Learned to Love Nescafe.

Aside: I once contacted Starbucks about sponsoring me on a bean-themed trip, where I would travel through some of the biggest coffee-producing countries in the world, writing stories about the process from bean to cup and the people who get it there. Sadly, Starbucks turned me down.

Back to my story. It’s coffee day. Yay!

Since today was my kind of day, I kicked it off with a total brewed awakening — a coffee mask, coffee scrub and piping hot cup of coffee.

That’s a lot of coffee!

First, I made a pot of coffee and put it in a carafe where it would stay nice and warm. Then I started working on the other stuff.

For the mask, I took 2 tablespoons of just-brewed coffee grounds, mixed it with 2 tablespoons of cocoa powder and 2 tablespoons of soy yogurt, then slapped the mixture on my face. While the mask dried, I made a coffee scrub using a couple more tablespoons of coffee grounds, a tablespoon of sugar and a drizzle of olive oil. I applied the scrub in the shower, washed it all off and then relaxed with super-soft skin and super-yummy coffee.

You can just call me Sir Mix-a-Latte.

I got the idea from this Crunchy Betty post, which you can read for more details. (NOTE: The face mask can be made with honey and/or cow yogurt, for those who aren’t vegan.)

How does it work? Basically, caffeine detoxifies your skin and cuts down on puffiness and swelling, which is why it’s used in so many expensive beauty products.

Well, here you’re just cutting out the middleman and using straight-up, fresh grounds within 20 minutes of brewing. You’re isolating all the wonderful properties of caffeine without wasting all your dough.

Of course you know that your skin absorbs 60 percent of whatever you apply topically, which translates to an extra caffeine kick in your day! But don’t blame me if you end up running a triathlon instead of going to work.

Month of fun: Day 27

September 27, 2011

A sunny afternoon ride in a convertible. A delicious lunch. A fantastic conversation with a beautiful friend.

What could possibly be better than that?

This is the salad sampler at Palm Greens Cafe, 611 S. Palm Canyon Dr., Palm Springs.

I swear the salad sampler is a force of nature. I am physically incapable of ordering anything else whenever I go to Palm Greens.

The dish comes with a big bowl full of crisp greens, shredded carrots, tomato slices, cucumber and other fresh veggies. On top of that they put scoops of other salads: Red quinoa, lentil, soba noodle, sweet potato, curried tofu, seaweed, potato salad.

But wait! There’s more.

Three dollops of vegan goodness top it off: Hummus, star-kissed seed salad and cockadoodle tofu. (They’re underneath the tortilla chips in my photo). Then you can slather it all in vegan caesar dressing.

In a word — amazeballs.

But if you think the food was the highlight, you’re wrong. Because sitting across the table from me was this lovely lady:

That’s the wonderful Tammy Coia, who has a huge heart, radiant spirit and energy to spare. You can learn more about her and her remarkable work here.

Tammy is one of those rare people who is unflinchingly supportive and genuinely cares about the people in her life. I’m lucky to call her a friend.

Month of fun: Day 23

September 23, 2011

It’s still well over 100 degrees here in the desert, but my soul knows it’s autumn somewhere. That’s probably why I’ve been craving the flavors of fall, from hot apple cider to the warm spice of pumpkin-flavored goodies, even though my environment is more suited for popsicles and watermelon.

So this morning I grabbed my last can of pumpkin puree from the pantry and got to work.

Unfortunately, pumpkin pie is not on my detox plan. Crazy, I know. But why should that stop me from enjoying the rich flavors of pumpkin pie while consuming something that’s also good for me? Here’s what I came up with:

Pumpkin oats (1 serving)

1. Bring 3/4 cup water to a rolling boil.

2. Add 1/4 cup steel-cut oats. (Not instant oatmeal). I use the cheap container from Trader Joe’s. Turn the heat to low and let simmer for about 5 minutes.

3. Stir in 1/4 cup pumpkin puree, 1/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice and a splash of vanilla extract. Simmer for about two more minutes.

4. Let the oats stand for one minute before serving.

5. Top with oatmeal condiments of choice. I topped my bowl with a few chopped hazelnuts and a teaspoon of maple syrup. You could also try fresh blueberries, dried cranberries, honey, brown sugar, soy milk, crumbled graham crackers … whatever your dear little heart desires.

Keep in mind that these measurements are totally flexible. Want more vanilla? Pump it up, man! Hate pumpkin pie spice and want your cinnamon to go solo? Swap it out! Pumpkin oats are forgiving, and pumpkin oats do not judge. Just do whatever it takes to make it taste good for you.

I didn’t take a photo, because my oatmeal looked like cat food. Instead, here’s a photo I took at a pumpkin patch a couple years ago.

Who needs pumpkin pie when you could have oats, right?

OK, maybe you still need pie.

But these oats are good too — and they’re good for you.

Of course, you already know that oatmeal is a nutritional powerhouse. It’s loaded with soluble fiber, it’s low in fat and calories and it’s thick with cancer-fighting nutrients. But combine all that with pumpkin — packed with vitamins A, C and tons of good-for-you minerals — and you’ve got yourself the breakfast version of Wonder Twins.

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