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The Baysox Come Home —
So Do Sox Fans
by Sandra Martin

As the sun falls, the crack of the bat echoes through newly opened Prince George’s Stadium, and a fly ball sails toward the trees. Renowned broadcaster Harry Caray would say: “It might be … it could be … it is...”
Sorry, Harry, no homerun. What we have here is a foul ball that rockets off the porta-potty behind the left-field foul line, an awakening experience for the fan inside.
Twenty kids — droopy-drawered young teens and fuzzy-headed youngsters — scurry for a souvenir. A chunky nine-year-old corrals the runaway ball with a deft scoop of his baseball mitt and leaps in the air to exult. The crowd of 5,000 cheers.
Whoever said it was right: You can’t beat fun at the old ballpark.
Only in this case it’s the new ballpark, Prince George’s Stadium, inhabited just last week by the Bowie Baysox. Finally, two months behind schedule, the Double-A Baysox are playing home games where they are meant to be played. At home. A cozy park — except in center field, where the fence is a long 405 feet from homeplate. With left and right fields 309 feet deep, PG Stadium duplicates the dimensions of Memorial Stadium, the Orioles’ old park.
The winter’s freak ice storms froze construction for three months, sending the Sox barnstorming in search of home fields for the first 64 games of the season.
“It’s not the kind of park or the kind of food we had hoped to be presenting people, ” said owner Peter Kirk, apologetically, as he watched his Baysox upend the Binghamton Mets, 2-1, in a taut thriller last week.
Don’t worry. After an evening of tall-stretch catches, somersaults, near-collisions and rhubarbs, most fans would agree that there’s no need for Kirk to apologize. The only ice on folks’ minds nowadays is the refreshing Italian Ice sold at the Baysox ballyard.
Whether they’re stat-gobbling, mitt-toting baseball nuts or folks just looking for clean fun in confusing times, Marylanders have a new world opened to them now that the Baysox have come home.
It’s a world probably closer and more accessible than most people know — on Rt. 301 just south of Rt. 50.
The mountains of dirt and earth-movers on the road in, the girders piled outside the stadium and those portable toilets are forgotten when fannies are parked in their comfortable seats and the first ball is flung toward the batter.
Sure, this is the minor leagues, but don’t forget that it’s still professional baseball. The well-coached Baysox, an Orioles farm-team, are among the Eastern League’s top two or three teams.
In a couple years, you’ll be saying you saw swift outfielder Alex Ochoa when he was at Bowie. Or pitchers Jimmy Haynes or Scott Klingenbeck (who had a one-day success in the big leagues earlier this year).
Then again, perhaps it’s an evening out you desire, along with the simplicity of just going to a game rather than concocting an expensive plan months in advance. (Have you ever felt that at Camden Yards, the trendy and well-connected have hijacked all the fun?)
Don’t take Kirk seriously when he speaks modestly of his ballpark’s food. Besides the normal ballpark fare of, what else, hot dogs and beer, you can find crab cakes ($5) and a devilishly good deal in a 24-ounce Wild Goose ale for $3.50. Finish off with cotton candy, Italian Ice, or a Dove bar.
What’s more, the Baysox offer the opportunity to see baseball at its purest, when owners and players aren’t in a perpetual ruckus and baseball still is a game, not a confusing parade of statistics.
The world of the Bowie Baysox will become even more special if the major league season is halted by a work stoppage because of owners’ new demand for salary caps.
A lockout or strike is no sure thing, but players and owners appear headed down the same path as in 1981, when a dispute cut the heart out of the season.
Back then, Kirk was running a team at Hagerstown; he recalls that the minor leagues suddenly became so popular that the games were being showed on television. A major league shutdown this summer would provide a similar, short-term boon for the Baysox, Kirk acknowledges. But he doesn’t want to see it happen.
“In the end, it would be a black-eye for baseball,” Kirk said.
But, in the event that major league baseball screeches to a halt around mid-July, it might be a good idea now to stake out some seats at Prince George’s Stadium before the trendy and well-connected from Camden Yards discover the Baysox.
There’s not a bad seat in the house, and you’ll be able to walk right up and buy either box ($7) and general admission (free to $5) seats whenever the mood hits. Many games feature giveaways and special events, like Max Patkin, the Clown Prince of Baseball, on July 9 and Morganna, the Kissing Bandit, on July 16. Games start at 7:05PM except Sundays, when play is scheduled for 2:05PM. Gates open an hour earlier, and parking is free.
If you’re worried about a little dirt in the parking lot, don’t wear your new open-toes to Prince George’s Stadium. If you need to spend a lot of money, see the Baysox and give what you’ve saved to the homeless.
And if someone knocks one time while you’re in the porta-potty, don’t hurry. It’s probably just a foul ball.

Everything Matters — Even Your Kitchen Sink

From eating a burger to driving a boat, we cruise through life learning only enough to make things work for us.
We don’t care how our food is raised, killed or handled as long as it arrives for our use in a clean clear package with a minimum of blood showing.
We don’t care what makes that boat go or how it affects other boaters, water life and shoreline. All we want to do is put a hand to the throttle and go.
We learn to use things without knowing where they came from or what their consequences are. We certainly don’t want to know what happens when we flush the toilet. We just want to use it.
What’s our point? Just this: when polls show that voters are strongly in favor of environmental protection and kids are scared about the future of our polluted planet, it’s time to take personal responsibility when and where we can. Stop waiting for someone else.
Sure, some of us go out and pick up trash once or twice a year — while others continue to toss beer cans and cigarette butts blithely out their car windows. Some of us will search out organic pest control methods for our gardens, while others of us spend good money to pour destructive chemicals on our lawns and into our watershed.
Few of us homeowners realize there’s a septic tank buried in our yard — though most of us who live in suburban or rural Maryland in fact have one. Still fewer of us go to the trouble of finding out what a septic tank has to do with our toilet, laundry and kitchen sink.
How many of us really want to know how our septic system influences the health of our own community water sources — our aquifers, waterways and the Bay? How many of us will take seriously our responsibility as manager of our own small sewage treatment plant?
Yet these are matters we can take care of ourselves. In fact, we have to. We don’t have city sewer lines to make it easy on us. We don’t have that one more bill to pay nor the over-development of our pleasant small community to worry about. We don’t have government to blame. Just ourselves.
Ignorance of your septic system, as we’ve learned from massive failures on Mayo peninsula and Holland Point, is no defense from consequences.
Knowledge is.
Lift a little bit of your weight off the planet. Start by taking responsibility for your septic tank. You’ll find out how in this week’s “Dock of the Bay.”

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Full House at North Beach
Dear New Bay Times:
On behalf of the North Beach House and Garden Club, I want to thank you for your efforts to help make our Ninth Annual Home and Garden Tour such a rewarding success.
A warm, rare day in June greeted tour goers as they either strolled from home to home or were shuttled in antique cars provided by the Southern Maryland Model A Ford Club. The Garden Club extends a special thank you to Larry Fieldler for delighting the crowd with his antique bicycle.
Visitors from Annapolis, Baltimore, Washington, various Anne Arundel and Calvert County sites, and even Scotland were charmed by the featured homes and gardens that allowed them a glimpse of our diverse, relaxed living styles in our Bayfront town.
This year’s homeowners — Bob and Betty Ainsworth, Amy and Rich Roberts, Jenifor Klindt and Rich Walsh, Dana and Scott Rupard, Elizabeth and Mike Bailey, Robin and Glenn Sanders, Carol and Ron Payne, Sue and Jerry Grant, Vicki and Jim Weaver, and Charles Varipapa — are to be commended for the shine not only on their rooms but on their blooms, too.
Nice & Fleazy Antiques was again the headquarters for the well-attended tour, and the Chesapeake Railway Museum was filled with visitors wanting to know more about our charming area.
Next year, 1995, marks the tenth anniversary of the Home and Garden Tour held on the first Sunday in June. It promises to be spectacular.
—Amy Roberts
North Beach

One More Ghost Story
Dear New Bay Times:
I read with relish your recent article, “Railroad Ghosts,” discussing the Chesapeake Railroad. I have a “railroad ghost” story of my own.
Last year, when teaching a children’s summer environmental class, I accompanied a group to Jug Bay Preserve. Part of its tour went along an old railroad bed for the train that crossed Jug Bay. The children and I were fascinated to find old rail spikes along the trail.
At the end of the trail, the train would cross the Patuxent. All that remains of the crossing today is the concrete abutment to which a revolving rail was attached. It would swing around to connect the two sides of land when a train came through. Otherwise, it was left open to allow boats to pass.
One of my students, Joey, fell behind on what was a very hot day. I remained behind to walk with him. We talked about the old train and the hot weather until suddenly we heard — I swear it — a whistle very much like a locomotive. We also thought we heard the rush of wheels on a track.
Joey and I looked at each other — me an adult, him a kid — and said “Yikes! What was that?” Our group had gotten far ahead of us, and we were the only ones who heard it. Thoroughly spooked, Joey wanted to run from what he (and I) was sure was a ghost train.
Later we were told it was probably a boat whistle. It sure must have been a large boat in the shallow waters of the Patuxent.
Joey went on to write a rather good poem about the ghost train, and I am left with an intriguing memory.
Thanks for a very good railroad story.
—Donna Reifsnider
Rosehaven, Md.

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Eating Blue

Better late than never. Bluefish are finally showing in Chesapeake Bay, not big in numbers and size like the good old days, but there’s something to be said for these smaller fish. They taste better.
Sure, the bigger ones fight better, but if you rate a blue on the table above a blue fighting in the water, pick the smaller ones. Only one thing beats the two-to three-pound blues in the Chesapeake this year — and that’s even smaller ones, which we could get a bit later in summer.
Blues grow fast: 12 inches in their first year. Say what you want about blues being fatty or oily, get a young one of about 12 inches and you will enjoy sweet, white and well-textured flesh. No need to marinate, smoke, or dose with spices and herbs. It can stand alone.
None of those small blues are here yet, but the snappers moving up the Chesapeake are the right size for stuffing and baking, grilling and also for a modified version of an old rich and buttery poached bluefish dish, which we will get to later.

Making the Most of Our Blues
So let’s make the most of our blues. At the market, you will find filets are selling as high as a couple dollars a pound; yours, fresh caught by you or friend, are even more valuable — but only if properly handled beginning with the moment they are caught.
Keep bluefish chilled. In his authoritative book Bluefishing, Hal Lyman best summed up why:
“Considering the bluefish itself, never forget that it is a voracious feeder, and as such has incredibly strong digestive juices in its stomach. Left uncleaned without refrigeration (or ice) for any
length of time, it will literally digest itself.
“The entire body cavity will spoil in short order and the flesh will be tainted. Clean your catch as soon as possible.”
A few other things to keep in mind about bluefish:
• They are best when eaten on the day caught. They can be refrigerated for several days if well drained, but flavor and texture diminish in relation to the time between catching and eating. Old, larger blues become rich and oily. Their flesh softens.
• Rating blues for taste: one to three pounds, excellent; three to five pounds, good; six to eight pounds, okay, 10 pounds and over, recommended for those who insist on fish “flavor.” The bigger the fish, the more important to clean and chill promptly — and to keep chilled.
• Blues are sweeter of taste when skinned; however, skinless filets are more difficult to fry or grill without breaking up. (Fish fanciers claim fatty fish shouldn’t be fried anyhow) Also, the less dark red flesh left on filets of larger fish, the less the likelihood of a “rich” taste.
• If blues are to be frozen (I wouldn’t even consider it for those of more than six pounds), do so in a saltwater mix with a bit of vinegar added,; then squeeze fresh lemon over them. When thawing, run water over the container and remove the fish. Do not thaw in such a manner that the fish will lie in water from melted ice for more than a few minutes.
• To lessen chances of a fishy taste with a larger blue, or to embellish flavor, consider including any of the following in bluefish recipes: Tomatoes, tomato sauce, curry, lemon, wine, fennel, dry seafood seasoning (I prefer black), salad oil, marjoram, mustard or mayonnaise. A mustard-mayonnaise mix brushed heavily makes for good tasting when grilled over charcoal.
• Raw, a three and one-half ounce portion of blue is of about 120 calories. For a total calorie count, consider what is added before, during and after cooking.

During the 14 years I wrote a fish and game cooking column for the Evening Sun, there were more queries wanting new recipes for blues than all other species combined. Many wanted to find a way to cook blues so everyone in the family would like them; others caught so many blues, they wanted variety.
Ben Florence, a DNR fisheries scientist also known for his catching and cooking ability, passed this recipe on to me. I liked it.

Baked Spicy Bluefish
1 large bluefish filet, about 1 and 1/2 inches thick
1 T fresh lemon juice
1 T Worcestershire Sauce
2 T butter
Seafood seasoning: Old Bay, Wye River or such
Sprinkle filet with seasoning; baste well with mix of lemon juice, Worcestershire and butter.
Place in pre-heated 450-degree oven and bake nine to 12 minutes, or until fish flakes easily with a fork.
The test of a baked fish filet is whether it can be converted to a good fishcake. Florence’s passed the test. He even suggested it be substituted for crab in a crabcake recipe — but I’ll take the real crab, thank you.

Blue Doesn’t Taste Like Chicken
With chicken it’s taster’s choice. Light meat or dark?
Not so with bluefish. Stay with the white flesh; get rid of all the dark.
That’s what Karen Wood did one evening, and the results were glistening white pan-fried bluefish fillets. Who said blues were too oily to be fried? Those fillets were among the tastiest bluefish I ever tried — and the preparation among the most simplest.
The dish was as fresh as its ingredients: bluefish just caught in the Chesapeake, and chopped fresh dill, chives and parsley.
Wood stressed “fresh.” No dried herbs, or frozen fish. The blues she used had been caught earlier in the day off Tilghman Island.
Surprisingly, the fish weren’t those tender one-or two-pounders preferred for eating. They came from a six-pounder.
The secret was cutting out the fatty, dark red flesh strips after filleting. It takes a sharp knife to trim away these segments, which can be blamed for both strong and oily flavor. The sharp knife allows the filet to be cut neatly. A dull blade creates a ragged edge.
Some cooks steam or bake bluefish fillets briefly to make cutting away the red flesh easier, but I think that detracts from the final dish. Those who prefer a robust, fishy flavor, ugh, don’t bother remove the dark flesh.

Karen Wood’s Fresh Fried Blue
Mix equal portions of fresh chopped parsley, chives and dill in a shallow bowl. Into another bowl, pour melted butter.
Dredge fillets of from one-half to three-quarters inch in thickness through the butter, then through the herb mix. Pop them into a hot skillet and fry for about one minute on each side. Do not overcook; they should be moist, not dry.

Many warm days and hungry bluefish still remain in late summer and autumn. A potato salad would be just the thing to accompany pan fried blues. Again, the recipe is simple.
This comes from my favorite cook, an aunt, Marjorie Brush of Arlington, Vt.

Potato Salad
Boil potatoes with skins on until done. Cool slightly, peel and cut into cubes. While still warm, add a little mayonnaise (not much because more will be added later), salt, pepper, paprika, and finely chopped onion to taste.
Mix well and refrigerate until potatoes are cool. Just before serving, add chopped hard boiled eggs, celery salt, chopped fresh parsley, and as much mayonnaise as needed for desired consistency. You might want to add a tad more salt and pepper.

Bluefish Salad Supreme
There is a time and place for everything. Including bluefish salad. But use the smallest bluefish available; no fishy taste, please.
Cut halfway through the tail end of the fish just ahead of the tail; also cut the main gill artery ahead of the throat. This done, place the fish on ice and allow it to bleed.
When cleaning the fish, trim off the fatty sections such as the belly flaps and the dark red meat along the lateral line. You don’t have to do any of this with the smaller blues: just poach or steam them, and they are ready for a salad.
Poach in a salt-and-peppered liquid mix of inexpensive white wine and water. As soon as the fish flakes easily, it is done. Matter of fact, right then you can roll back the skin of the fish, add a dab of butter and you might be tempted to forget the salad and enjoy the fish straight.
But a bluefish salad can be simple and fast. It is important to toss gently; don’t mash the fish when mixing ingredients:
2 C flaked bluefish, poached or steamed, with skin removed.
2 T finely chopped onion.
2 T finely chopped green pepper
1/2 C salad oil
1/4 C wine vinegar
1/8 t garlic powder
1/4 t oregano leaves
2 t parsley flakes
Salt and pepper to taste (go light)
1/4 C sour cream or mayonnaise.
Place small sections of bluefish in a bowl; add all ingredients except sour cream. Toss gently; do not mash. Refrigerate until thoroughly chilled. Lightly stir in mayonnaise or sour cream just before serving.

The Scheible brothers of lower St. Marys County guide more fishermen to more bluefish than any other family fishing team on the Chesapeake Bay. Captains Bruce, Doug and Andy Jr., who fish out of Wynne near the mouth of the Potomac, concede their business depends on parties wanting to catch bluefish. To eat.
“So, we hype bluefish; play them up with our parties,” says Bruce. “We tell them how good they are on the table — and how easy they are to prepare.
One of the easiest recipes for blues comes from Leah Scheible, wife of Andy Scheible. Don’t worry about a fresh bluefish tasting fishy in a tangy salsa dish. Salsa of from moderate to hot is available in markets, or you can make your own.
Leah’s Salsa Bluefish
6 bluefish filets
2 onions
2 cloves minced garlic
Salsa, enough to fully cover filets
Butter, as needed
Salt and pepper to taste
Brush bottom of a thin flat pan with butter. Place a layer of thin onion rings in pan; place fillets on top of onion rings; brush with butter. Sprinkle salt, pepper and garlic to taste. Top with salsa; then bake in pre-heated 350-degree oven for 30 minutes or until fish flakes easily with a fork.
Bruce Scheible prefers smoked bluefish, which I’m kind of partial to myself. Smoking is simple and it’s hard to make a mistake if the smoke is hot enough and the fish well seasoned. Show me someone who doesn’t like smoked bluefish, and I’ll show you a person who hasn’t tried it.

Bruce’s Smoked Blues
Bluefish fillets or dressed small blues
1 gallon water
2 C brown sugar
1 C kosher salt
4 T dry mustard
4 T seafood seasoning
4 T black pepper
Soak fillets in mix for 12 hours in refrigerator or other cool place. Pat fillets dry. Hang from smoking rack or lay flat in one layer only on grill after sprinkling with granulated brown sugar. Smoke over wood chips five to 8 eight hours, depending on smoking heat.
This recipe is suitable for gas, electric or charcoal smokers. Fish should be stored in refrigerator for consumption within a week at the most. Otherwise freeze.

Here’s something else to try with a dressed whole blue or Spanish mackerel (minus head, tail and innards). It takes time and effort, but is well worth it
Burton’s Poached Bluefish
1/4 C light cooking oil
1 stick melted butter or margarine
2 anchovies
2 t fresh lemon juice
1/4 clove garlic
1 t parsley
4 ounces white Chablis
2 T pimento
1/8 cup sweet onion
Salt and pepper to taste
Emulsify garlic in blender and add to butter. Chop green pepper, onion and anchovies finely, add to all other ingredients, blend well.
Place fish in pan; pour mix over it You want just enough to cover the fish. Add more water or wine if necessary.
Bring to boil; maintain vigorous boiling 4 to 6 minutes. If you want something closer to the original recipe I modified after open heart surgery, use three sticks of butter, and add no oil or lemon. It will be rich, loaded with calories, but, what to heck, just once.

Catch a Spanish Mackerel …
To capture utmost flavor from Spanish mackerel, like blues, cook them within two days after they are caught. Incidentally, bluefish and Spanish mackerel recipes are interchangeable. Here's what I often do with mackerel, which in several weeks will start to move in:
After scaling and dressing the mackerel, rub well with onion, then salt and pepper, and brush it liberally with a mix of equal portions of Dijon mustard and mayonnaise. Placed in a microwave and precook for three minutes at a half-way setting.
While still warm, place in a hinged grill; grill over hot coals for five minutes on each side with the top of the charcoal cooker closed.
Precooking in the microwave reduces grilling time enough that the fish doesn’t dry out. You want it moist
Enough said ..

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Summer sets a richer stage than Shakespeare, and legion players have their day.

In the Act of the Flowers, lilies are this week’s stars. Sun-sweet as yellow are, I like the orange best, like the ones we used to call Tiger Lilies. Profligate these lilies are, just like the parable says: queenly as their colors are, they grow as happily in field or road side ditch as in tended bed.
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin … And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
—Matthew 6: 28–29

In the heady Act of Fragrances, trees are this week’s stars. The heavenly scent of honeysuckle and honey locust have faded. Replacing them: the all-too earthy odor of Ailanthus, also known as stink weed, and the primordial funk of other priapic, arboreal flowers. Don’t breathe too deep!

In the Act of Fruit, bright-red cherries have swollen from the blossoms of spring and black-barked trees are laden. You’ll find some of those trees sporting “hairnets,” arranged by families who’d rather eat their own cherries than sacrifice them to the birds. You’ll have good luck all year if you climb into a fruiting cherry tree. So will your family if you pick the sweet fruit and make cherry jam. A cherry pie won’t last as long, but can anything taste so good?

In the Act of Air, butterflies are in full ballet. They’ve answered the call of the lilies, who they’re drunkenly bumbling and pollinating. Stand in the right place, and they’ll caress you, too. Imagine the fame of the designer who could match the colors of their raiments! The tuxedo in that line would have silver stripes and swallow tails. A sun dress would copy the colors of the lilies in diaphanous fabric with rills and ripples.

In the Act of the Crabs, beaches — and finally bushel baskets — are full.
Along all the beaches, horseshoe crabs have crawled up from prehistory and gathered in mating orgy. As well as pairs, we’ve sighted piles of a half-dozen or eight. Then, along the shore, we find singles: big barnacle-encrusted females and smaller, fresher males tipped over by the tide, their stiletto tails pointing to heaven, their jointed, sea-weed black legs writhing. Toss them back and away they swim.
Even more welcome news is the blue crab’s arrival to mid-Bay waters. All spring, crabbers have suffered, and seafood wholesalers have set up regular Carolina routes to satisfy Baysiders’ won’t-wait hunger. This week plenty has begun. A local crabber took 16 bushels from Herring Bay on Monday: twice the number he’d retrieved all last week. We’ve already eaten soft-shells, but we’re more than ready for hard.

In the Act of the Fishes, Bill Burton was telling the truth. Having read in “Burton on the Bay” of the arrival of drum, indefatigable fisherman Rick Blackwell went out to see for himself. He returned triumphant with a 60-pound black drum.
Skin is thick on so big a fish. Cut it off. Then slice the big fillet into steaks to be sautéed in a light garlic butter. Yes, drum is good eating.
Catfish too are climbing the Bay, and crabbers are taking big 16-inch ones in their pots. Eels, too. Turn to Bill Burton this week for delectable bluefish recipes fitting for any fish.