"Chesapeake Bay" news and stories

Move over Asian carp, you're not the only pesky species to be eyed by the seafood industry as a potential food source. Officials in Virginia have set their sights on the homely cownose ray, whose population has exploded, in part because of a sharp decline in their natural predator, the inland coastal shark. The population boom is bad news for valuable Chesapeake oysters, clams and scallops. Hungry rays have been known to wipe out entire shellfish beds with their powerful crushing jaws.

Mike Hutt, executive director for the Virginia Marine Products Board has been working to develop a market for the red-fleshed cownose ray (renamed a more appealing Chesapeake Ray), but don't expect it to taste like its white-fleshed cousin, skate.

"It's not flaky, and it has a texture and tastes closer to veal or beef," says Hutt.

Two things define the food of Maryland's Chesapeake Bay metropolis: spices and seafood. And the former owes its prominence to the latter -- plentiful crabs that once bred like hard-shelled rabbits in the bay's warm waters. "When they were prevalent, bars here would have steamed crabs as giveaways," explains local food writer Dara Bunjon. "So that people would drink more, they made them that much more spicy." In other words, it seems that the city's core condiment, known as Old Bay Spice, was cooked up as a ruse to raise profits at drinking dens.

Food guru Marguerite Thomas theorizes that the city's history as a port combines with its Southern-tinged psyche to make spice such a staple. "You can go to a crab house and order cracked crabs without Old Bay, but people look at you funny," she chuckles. "Baltimoreans take great pride in it." The difference between restaurants' recipes for crab cakes is usually centered on the seasoning. She also loves the crab cake-esque coddie: "I grew up eating them. I'd go to the fountain and for 11 cents, I got a coddie and a Coke as my after-school snack." Thomas says that coddies were traditionally a Jewish treat, a kosher riff on the crab cake made from cod and potato and served on a saltine with a dab of mustard.

Read our "only in Baltimore" list after the jump...

Eight layers of moist yellow cake, each slathered with a rich chocolate frosting, is what makes up the Smith Island Cake. It's decadent, it's unforgiving...and it could soon be Maryland's own.

Maryland is prepared to designate four-generation-old confection as its state cake, joining only two other states who have cakes to their names: Massachusetts' Boston Creme Pie, and South Dakota's kuchen (a German cake with a custard filling).

NPR has a fun story about the cake and its history, which originated on Smith Island, about 12 miles off Maryland's coast, across the Chesapeake Bay.

But recognizing certain symbols, songs and foods as your state's own isn't as unique as it once was. Wikipedia lists some state's claims to fame, some of which are downright ridiculous (Iowa's "state sweet" is the Jelly Baby?!) but fun to learn. In fact, I think all of our readers should amend the U.S. state foods Wiki page - let's see how crazy we can get before someone flags our entries!

There's even a cute kiddie cookbook featuring meals from all 50 states.

And while you're dreaming up new feature foods for your state, check out the 10-layer version of the Smith Island cake here.