Although my mom always worked outside the home, I can’t remember one morning without a hot breakfast, and it usually varied from day-to-day. One morning I might have pancakes (I called them hotcakes) with blackstrap molasses, another morning it might be a fried egg, over easy, and toast, or maybe French toast, but it was always something yummy and many times included half of a grapefruit always cut into sections for easy eating. I took all this for granted and never considered it anything special until I was a mom and realized the work and commitment involved. Then, I gained a whole new appreciation of motherhood.
I had one other item for breakfast, occasionally, of which you may never have heard. Let me tell you all about it. It is regionally specific in the mid-Atlantic States and German in origin, actually Pennsylvania Dutch. It’s called scrapple, derived from the word “scraps” because that is what it is made from, the scraps of pork plus cornmeal and spices. Okay, now you’re saying that does not sound very appetizing but, believe me, it grows on you. You probably remember reading somewhere about how frugal the Pennsylvania Dutch were. Well, that frugalness trickled on down with them to Delaware where I grew up.
Scrapple comes in a raw one-pound loaf, and, jokingly, is said to be made from everything but the oink. My home state is one of the world’s largest scrapple producers. The most well-known is Rapa brand, made since 1926 in Bridgeville, which is a small town about thirty miles south of where I grew up. Now there are many brands and it is even sold in our local Publix here in Gainesville, Florida, although I haven’t looked for it lately. When I was a meat-eater, I bought and prepared it for breakfast many times.
The trick to tasty scrapple is to fry it brown and crispy on the outside but to leave the inside tasting creamy. It’s that crispy crust that makes it delicious, no extra oil or butter necessary as fat is one of those all but the oink ingredients in the raw product.
I read some time ago that a few New York City restaurants had tried to upscale the lowly scrapple by calling it pan-fried country paté. I’m not sure how well that went over. As much as I liked it, I can’t imagine that it would make much traction in the city. Best to leave it to the country-folk.
There is a Facebook page called the Scrapple Trail that has a map with all the places where you can order scrapple, many many of those places in Delaware. In fact, that place where I said I was working as a waitress during the summer I met JIm, well, the owners of the restaurant known as Kirby and Holloway’s owned a scrapple plant in Harrington, my hometown. When I googled it, guess what came up? Yep, it’s available at Walmart, Kirby & Holloway scrapple. Who knew?
And the moral is, don’t mess with a good thing. I guess scrapple is in my DNA.
