JOE FROGGERS, Americana From The Age Of Sail

A revolutionary war cookie from coastal Massachusetts.

Imagine an arm around your shoulders and friendly voice saying, “Hi. I’m a cookie.” Then add in this quote from one of our tasters: “That’s the biggest, softest, easiest going ginger snap I ever tasted! Or is it gingerbread?” And then triangulate with sailors on a clipper ship singing in the sunlight, “Ho, ho, ho and a bottle of rum!” Somewhere in that intersection you’ll find Joe Froggers, a cookie created right after the Revolutionary War at a Marblehead Island inn outside of Boston, Massachusetts.

The Cookie On Its Own

Joe Froggers are a soft, gently spiced molasses cookie with a nice finish from a tot of dark rum in the dough. The cookies were designed and intended for grownups, but they’re also as kid friendly as a cookie can be. The texture is plush and easy; the flavor simple, familiar, and a bit raisiny from the molasses; and they’re about the width of a small child’s face (4″-6″ across), which guarantees the ‘eyes light up with delight‘ reaction.

The earliest versions were made with lard. Most modern recipes call for shortening. Butter tastes best of all, of course, but you give up a bit in the way of texture. We make them with a 50/50 mix of butter unless there’s a special reason to be historically accurate.

NOTE FROM KATE: I felt a need to be historically accurate, so Scott made the first batch with lard. This beautiful cookie is friendly and cheerful, but I felt like I had to work against the unfamiliar flavor of lard after the third bite. This particular fat’s texture sticks to the mouth a bit more than butter or shortening. Not a familiar sensation. Next time I’d go with half lard and half butter. Despite its undeniable culinary advantages, I don’t particularly like shortening, as it’s an ultra-processed food, but YMMV. I can see this one becoming a family favorite!

That’s about all you need to know. It’s a big old, friendly, arm around your shoulders cookie.

“Joe Froggers?” A Taste Of History

The general outline of the story is well known and documented, with its own page at the Marblehead Museum website. The story goes like this.

Once upon a time there was a Revolutionary War veteran named Joseph Brown, son of an enslaved, African-American mother and a Wampanoag father. He and his wife Lucretia opened an inn on Marblehead Island after the war, right next to a local frog pond.

Photo, credited to the Smithsonian Institution, found at MarbleheadMuseum.org.

Lucretia invented the cookie, and it became something of a sensation. They’re not only delicious, but they also have enough molasses to keep for a very long time. The revolutionary era Massachusetts economy centered on fishing, trade, and other maritime activities. Marblehead was a major seaport and shipbuilding center, so much so that it’s also known to history as “the birthplace of the American navy.” That fame would only grow as the young nation built its vast fleet of clipper ships.

Joe Froggers (and Hermits) quickly became the treats of choice to send off on long voyages around the Atlantic, and later around the world. Small, tasty, long lasting, and relatively inexpensive because much of the nation’s molasses and rum trade came through Massachusetts ports.

The name itself is more debatable, with every source we’ve found claiming to have the one true answer. It’s certainly related in some way to the pond out back. And the “Joe” part certainly comes from Joe Brown. Others note that Lucretia Brown (“Aunt Creese”) originally made these on a skillet, like extra chewy pancakes, and everyone who’s done such things will know how often the neat, round shapes you’re after come out looking vaguely like a frog. Others argue for the lily pad idea.

Decide as you like. This is me hoppity hop hopping away from all such debates. It’s probably some combination of them all, plus the fact that the name itself is so fun.

Moving on, Brown’s Inn grew into an immensely popular community center for celebrations of all kinds. Joe became the town fiddler, with his own set of local legends. And Lucretia’s breads, buns, cookies, and cakes were the best one could find. The couple eventually grew into local legends in their later years, and then expanded into lore and myth after their deaths, with the details ebbing and flowing with whoever told the tale.

For our purposes the bottom line is this: “Black Joe” and “Aunt Creese” were real people, who owned a real inn, and really were well known and loved across the island of Marblehead, Massachusetts. Lucretia Brown really did invent and popularize the cookie now known as Joe Froggers. Joe Froggers really did become a “thing” both during and after their lives, traveling around the world on the Bay State and American Navy fleets. And they remain a “thing” across eastern Massachusetts even now, in the 2020s.

Many cities around the country have “their” cookie. This is the one belonging to Boston – complete with the inevitable carping about how Boston undeservingly managed to absorb all of maritime New England under its umbrella. You’ll make a friend if you acknowledge that injustice to a native of Marblehood, Lynn, Gloucester, or the other seafaring centers of the era. Just acknowledging their claim will make a difference. And Bostonians won’t care in the slightest. It’s all Greater Boston from their point of view. They’re city folk.

An Aside (Sort Of) – The Great Molasses Flood Of 1919

I spent a few hours walking Pittsburgh’s Strip District in search of enough testers to keep us from devouring dozens of these huge cookies on our own. It was a real danger! We each accounted for at least half a dozen when the other wasn’t looking because they are heartbreakingly moreish. The molasses flood must have come up in conversation close to ten times.

It has no direct connection to Joe Froggers beyond “Massachusetts” and “Molasses,” but it’s one of those fascinating events that everyone’s heard about but never remembers until prompted. And then they remember how much they love the story in a guilty kind of way. 20 people drowned in molasses?! The smell lingering on summer days for decades?! Massive and enduring changes to building codes across the nation? Baking ingredients shutting down a city?! Wow.

This goes to a link from the city website Boston.gov if you want to refresh your memory. Here is a fun Wikipedia link that tells the story better, albeit with less authority.

Notes For Fellow Bakers

  • The rum adds an interesting note you don’t really taste unless you know it’s there. But it does matter. First, because it’s a part of the history, and that’s part of what makes this cookie so fun. But also because the rum rounds out the spices to create a whole that isn’t quite gingerbread, and isn’t quite ginger snap, but something unique within the family.
  • Rum extract should work just fine, though we haven’t tried it. We used Gosling’s Black Seal Bermuda Dark Rum because we also keep around the house just for drinking. Good stuff!
  • The fat makes a difference because you can taste it in the final product. Lard and shortening add something to the texture, however, which is why we recommend a 50/50 mix of butter to other. But it’s truly up to you.
  • Purely by chance, I happened to use up my old jar of molasses while making a test recipe. That jar became the perfect vehicle for combining the (topped off) cup of molasses with the hot water and rum. Put it all in the jar, screw down the lid, and shake until it’s all smooth and liquid.
  • This is a really, really sticky dough that’s just over the line from being a batter AFTER it cools and sets in the fridge. Account for that as you get the dough mixed. You want just enough flour to reach that point. Any more will start to toughen the cookies. Remember: you can always mix in more, but cannot take any out.
  • Some recipes will merely sprinkle the pre-baked balls with sugar, but we ended up rolling them simply to make the sticky dough balls easier to handle. This is why we removed 1-2 tablespoons of sugar (⅓ oz = 10 g) from full 1 cup usually listed for the dough.
  • You want to press the balls down to keep them from rolling, but there’s no need to really squish them. The dough will spread all on its own.
  • Speaking of which, a golf ball sized sphere is really big compared to what you probably make with other recipes. That is the minimum size for true Joe Froggers. They’re supposed to be big enough that children will gape in awe at the wealth. Skimp if you must, but please do it on purpose because regular sized cookies don’t leave the same emotions in their wake. We fit only four cookies per standard baking tray, with six slightly smaller ones on the final tray because that’s what was left in the bowl.
  • Adding the flour and liquid in stages works best. Everything gets smoothly and evenly incorporated. But it isn’t essential unless you’re working by hand.
  • This is a no-eggs recipe. That isn’t a typo. It’s a feature, not a flaw.

Enjoy!

BEEHIVE COOKIES (Včelí úly), A No-Bake Life Hack For Your Casualties

The best way we know to use up casualties from our holiday baking

Our collected work on Heritage Cookies of the Old and New World, both Volume 1 and the forthcoming Volume 2, can be traced back to the Czech tradition of Vánoční Cukroví: “Christmas Sweets.” Central and Norther Europe abounds with impressive holiday baking traditions, but no one takes it more seriously, or does a better job, than Czechs such as my beloved wife.

The thing is, when you make a lot of cookies, you also end up with a lot of casualties. There’s just no way around it. Beehive N0-Bakes may be the single best way of converting those casualties into something new. Who am I kidding? History contains a lot of ‘Oops!’ moments just to ensure the Beehives get made.

It starts with tiny plastic molds such as this one from the Czech manufacturer Tescoma:

It ends with this:

That picture pretty much says it all. (A) create a dough from leftover cookie crumbs, (b) press it into shape using the plastic form, (C) poke in a hole using the provided stamp, or the handle of a wooden spoon, (D) fill said hole with a stiff, rum-heavy buttercream, and then (E) cover the bottom with a small, round cookie like commercial vanilla wafers.

Quick, easy, fun for children of all ages, and requiring no mandatory baking unless you choose to make a superior buttercream. Or wish to make your own wafers, of course.

Part 1 – Ready The Shell

This is the magic part, and it couldn’t be any easier. Start with your leftover cookie crumbs. Mix in finely ground nuts, a small amount of powdered sugar, and egg white(s) as needed to bind it all together. Most people also add in a bit of rum (or extract) and cocoa powder to round things out, but that can vary with both personal taste and the nature of your casualty crumbs. You can also add spices, depending on the nature of your crumbs. Ground up gingerbread cookies obviously have a different vibe than ground up butter cookies.

NOTE FROM KATE: caution on the casualty cookies. Not all will make good candidates! We had some strongly flavored cocoa bear paws that got recycled into Beehives, and I thought there was a bit much going on. I would’ve preferred a more neutral backdrop to the smooth and delicious filling. If we make them again from the same cookies I will vary from the recipe to accomodate.

Regarding the overall impression, I prefer walls as thin as possible, with a liquidy eggyolk cream filling for contrast. But those would soak the Nilla cookie base over time…so if you’re making a whole bunch, a buttercream might be a longer-lasting option. Due to their egg content, we store Beehives in the refrigerator until serving time.

The only place it could go wrong is the proportions. Sometimes the cookie crumbs will be drier, sometimes wetter, etc. The answer is simple: remember your target. You want a standard, slightly sticky cookie texture. Start with something on the wet side and then add crumbs as needed to get there.

Part 2 – Ready The Filling

This is just as easy even though the recipes can vary drastically from house to house. You are after a rich, thick but not solid filling full of extra rum flavor. How you get there is up to you. The filling texture can vary from thick and boozy liquid eggnog to a firmer, properly flavored buttercream.

Kate’s prefers a cheater-buttercream on the theory, “If you are going to make a life hack recipe out of leftover crumbs, why not make a shortcut buttercream?”

  1. Make an extra-thick, store bought vanilla pudding by using only half the designated amount of liquid.
  2. Finish by whipping in dark rum and/or rum extract to taste.

I prefer to start from a modified pastry cream, otherwise known as a Swiss meringue method using yolks instead of whites:

  1. Whip the leftover egg yolks with some sugar over a hot water bath until thick and foamy.
  2. Remove it from the heat and whip in softened butter piece by piece, waiting each time until the last piece has been fully incorporated.
  3. Finish by whipping in dark rum and/or rum extract to taste.

The third approach is a French Buttercream, otherwise known as an Italian meringue method using yolks instead of whites.:

  1. Whip the yolks off heat until thick and foamy.
  2. Slowly drizzle in a softball-stage sugar syrup (235°-240° F = 114°-115° C), whisking on “high” until the temperature drops back down.
  3. Finish by whipping in dark rum and/or extract to taste.

The Flavor Profile – Does It Need To Be Rum?

We’ve written before that Prague’s secret heart belongs to a combination of nuts, rum and mocha. This recipe has (let’s see…) nuts and cocoa powder in the crust, with rum in both crust and filling. No surprise there!

There is no rule requiring you to stick with that profile, any quick online search will reveal many variations, and you always need to adapt things if your cookie crumbs come from something that has a lot of character. But for plain beehives made from plain cookies, please consider mocha-rum as the home base. That’s what you’d find in the Czech Republic.

NOTE: 100% rum extract starts to taste a bit artificial. We like to mix dark rum and extract together in order to obtain an intense flavor that still has nuance. And a bit of booziness of course!

Part 3 – Construction

Press dough into your little beehive mold:

Finished cookies with an empty mold on the left, and
an unfilled one on the right

Poke a hole in the bottom using either the tool that came with your mold, or the handle of a wooden spoon.

Poke a hole inside

Fill the hole with filling.

Cover the hole with a small, round cookie. We typically use commercial vanilla wafers from the box.

Bottom on, and ready to be pushed free.

Unmold. One side of the mold will come free easily. Use the cookie on the bottom to help free the other.

Done!

Move your finished Beehive Cookies to the fridge, where they will keep well while the cold, dry air hardens the outer crust and makes them that much more cookie-ish.

Storage and Conclusion

No-Bake Beehive Cookies:

  • Turn casualties into capital;
  • Look amazing;
  • Have a distinct and often different flavor from everything else on your tray;
  • Taste delicious;
  • Are easy to customize (almost unavoidable);
  • Occupy a distinct part in an important baking culture; and
  • Are fairly easy to make.

Can someone please explain the downside?

okay, yes. You may have to put them into a mental “Not-Quite-A-Cookie” category. And yes, that can cause some family friction about where they belong in your forthcoming cookbook. But they’re good. That is the bottom line.

Ah, the burdens of life…

Enjoy!