Lacy-edged Batty Cakes & Turkey Hash — Dale Knows How To Host

The sandlot baseball game at the Trans-Pecos Festival of Music & Love in Marfa, TX.

This batter from Marfa’s Los Yonke Gallos set his beer down to bat.

This batter from Marfa’s Los Yonke Gallos smoked a cigarette throughout the entire process.

Los Yonke Gallos means The Crazy Cocks! This mascot was a little rough around the edges. It had been a long, hot weekend.

Continuing Mom’s tradition of sending mail to your kid at school.

Mom with one of her travel sun hats in Charleston, SC.

Mom in a different hat and dad inexplicably in a cowboy hat (!) with our friend Geoff Clare somewhere in the South.

The Reed women (well, mainly me) in assorted Modern Times clothing (the designer boutique where I worked at in high school). Modern Times clothes were often made from lycra which was a new fabric in the 80s. We called it “underwear fabric” because that is what it was primarily used for. We would buy bolts of it and hand dye it in Lisa, the designer’s, basement washing machine. That’s how I learned color theory.

Susan Sarandon came into Modern Times while filming Bull Durham and bought this shirt! (And it all comes back to baseball. Boom!)

Mom teaching my niece, Leah, how to sew.

I just found these photos when I was home in NC. This is my daughter Luca in some sort of cape that Mom rigged up while visiting.

I’m writing from deepest West Texas. The Trans-Pecos Festival of Music & Love in Marfa (where we have a house) just wrapped up and it did not disappoint. This was my 5th year in attendance, I think. Oddly, it was during my first year at the festival when I found out about Mom’s terminal cancer. It was 2018 and I was in the parking lot of the annual baseball game when I got the phone call from my sister. Having just been in that parking lot yesterday for this year’s game, there is definitely a residual wistful feeling for me, as if air can hold energy.

However, in true Marfa style, there was also plenty of silliness to lift my spirits. Every year the scrappy Marfa baseball team, Los Yonke Gallos (The Crazy Cocks!) play the very polished and precious Austin team, The Texas Playboys. And, you bet your ass I rooted for Marfa, despite having lived in Austin for 17 years. To give credit where credit is due, the Austin team is extremely well curated. It includes some of the city’s best creative minds, so their look and style is on point. They have custom chainstitch jerseys made by the incredible team at Fort Lonesome. Their pitcher wears a very expensive looking straw cowboy hat. Their branding and merch is top notch. But, in my opinion, The Texas Playboys are just too twee. Now, the Gallos, on the other hand…. For years the extent of their branding was matching T-shirts and not everyone had one. I noticed uniforms this year but will let that slide, the funk is still there. One batter walked up to plate, placed his beer about 6 feet to the side, and took his chances at bat. (For better or worse, he was able to soon reclaim his beer and go back to the dugout.) Another batter SMOKED during the entire process. He would take the cigarette in his hand a do a few puffs, then stick it back in his mouth to swing. Repeat. One sweaty guy was relegated to wearing the Gallos Mascot Costume, a large furry chicken outfit. Everyone had theme songs as they approached to bat. And, there was a lively half time show with some amateur “dancers”. All in all, a good time. But, I’m the idiot who wanted cute hair and forewent a hat in the midday desert sun. Baseball hats exist for a reason.

Mom was always good with the hats. I have a travel hat she used to take around with her in England. It has some enamel pins on it that she collected over the years. It seems kind of cute and oddly child-like of Mom to have collected these mementos. I most likely will not wear this hat, but it warms my heart to have it.

My former NYC roommate, Joey, just visited Austin and we spent an afternoon together. We walked up and down South Congress, a hip shopping area in town. At one point I was watching Joey try on shirts and advising him as to fit and I had a flashback to our NYC days. Joey used to cash his paycheck every week and we would go to Century 21, a downtown department store with incredible deals on designer clothing. I didn’t remember this story but Joey told me that once he bought a shirt and then discovered that it had a small hole in it when he got home. Apparently, I took charge and darned the shirt, repairing it in a clever stitch pattern. Joey was like “how do you know how to do that?”. I knew from Mom, of course.

Just a few weeks ago I was home in North Carolina for a quick visit. I ran into my friend Bill and his kids at a concert at the Cradle, my old haunt. I was telling Bill’s daughter, Catherine, that I used to work at Modern Times (her grandmother’s boutique where she designed her own clothes) after school and in the summers of high school. This job was a Godsend and pretty critical to bolstering my shaky high school self image. I got this job entirely because of Mom, who liked to shop there. Lisa, the store’s owner, called my house and asked if I would want to help out. I would. And, suddenly, I had the coolest job of any high school kid – or college kid – for that matter.

One day I was at the store and I received a phone call from Mom, which was kind of rare. I used to go to music camp in the summers and had this WILD CRUSH on a tuba player (how many times has that been said?! LOL). To be clear, Erik was not your average tuba player. He was an extremely tall, blonde skater with puppy dog brown eyes and a heart-melting South Carolina accent. Anyway, apparently he had just shown up at our house that afternoon out of nowhere. Mom told him I was working so he was heading over to see me at the shop. He wanted it to remain a surprise. But, knowing me, Mom thought I would appreciate the heads up. And, boy did I! Modern Times was only a few blocks from our house so the next 5 minutes were like a movie montage of me trying on clothes and discarding them, freshening my makeup and breath, and then cleaning up, patting everything down, and trying to look CALM AS A CUCUMBER when Erik strolled in. Thank you for breaking code, Mom. Daughters before tuba players!

One Christmas early in my marriage, my husband bought me a delicate jewelry set, formal earrings and a pendant necklace with a light blue stone. They were very sweet, a little too sweet if you know me (I’m a statement necklace gal), but I appreciated the sentiment. I’ll never forget Mom taking me aside and saying, “I know that this jewelry isn’t really your style but you need to wear it because Chris gave it to you.” She was right, of course. Mom was a wise one, always knowing when to speak up.

For today’s recipe I liked the sound of Lacy-edged Batty Cakes. I was looking for something fabric sounding and the “lacy” seemed to fit. I realized the (baseball) batty coincidence later. After doing a bit of research, it seems that these are often served with a turkey hash in Tennessee and Kentucky, often at a Derby breakfast. Mom didn’t have a recipe for turkey hash but I found one that seems to fit the bill. This hash doesn’t appear to have potatoes in it, probably because of the carbs in the batty cakes, I’m guessing.

LACY-EDGED BATTY CAKES

3/4 cup white cornmeal, preferably water ground
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 egg – lightly beaten
1/2 cup bacon fat or butter, softened

If using regular cornmeal, combine it with the baking powder, soda, and salt, and sift together into a bowl. If using water-ground cornmeal, pour it into a bowl and stir in the baking powder, soda, and salt. Pour in the buttermilk and beat vigorously with a spoon until it is completely absorbed. Then add the egg and continue to beat until the batter is smooth.

Heat a heavy griddle over high heat until a drop of water flicked onto it steams for a second and evaporates. With a pastry brush, grease the griddle lightly with the bacon fat.

Pour about 1 tablespoon of batter onto the griddle for each cake. Fry 4 at a time 2 to 3 minutes, until the cakes begin to bubble and the bottoms brown. Then turn them over with a spatula and brown the other side. Stack the finished cakes on a heated plate and drape foil over them to keep them warm while you fry the rest. Stir the batter before bakiong each batch, and brush more fat on griddle as necessary. Serve the batty cakes as soon as they are all cooked, as an accompaniment to turkey hash, or like pancakes with butter and strained honey.

Makes about 2 dozen pancakes.

TURKEY HASH
Serves 6

4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups finely chopped onions
1/4 cups finely chopped green pepper
1/2 pound firm fresh mushrooms, trimmed, wiped with a dampened cloth and cut lengthwise, including the stems, into 1/8-inch-thick slices
1/4 cup flour

2 cups fresh turkey stock (page 47), or fresh or canned chicken stock
4 cups finely diced roasted turkey (page 46)
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh parsley
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup heavy cream, if necessary

In a heavy 12-inch skillet, melt the butter in the oil over moderate heat. When the foam begins to subside, add the onions and green pepper and, stirring frequently, cook for about 5 minutes, until they are soft but not brown. Add the mushrooms and, stirring occasionally, cook for 8 to 10 minutes, or until almost all the liquid that accumulates in the pan has evaporated. Do not let the mushrooms brown.

Mix in the flour and, when it is completely absorbed, pour in the stock. Stir with a whisk until the sauce comes to a boil, thickens lightly and is smooth. Reduce the heat to low, add the turkey, parsley, Worcestershire and salt and, stirring frequently with a spoon, simmer for 3 or 4 minutes to heat the hash through. If the hash is too dry for your taste, stir in up to 1/2 cup heavy cream by the tablespoonful.

Transfer the hash to a heated platter and serve it at once, accompanied, if you like, by batty cakes.

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