Philadelphia pepper pot: the soup that won the American Revolution?

On 29 December 1777, so the story goes, George Washington had spent 10 days at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, camped with his army and assorted women and children. The winter had been unremittingly bleak: up to a third of his forces were bootless – some had left bloody footprints in the snow as they marched into camp – and all were hungry. Local farmers were spurning the unreliable revolutionary currency and selling their crops to the British.

"Unless some great and capital change suddenly takes place," he wrote, "this Army must inevitably ... Starve, dissolve, or disperse, in order to obtain subsistence in the best manner they can."

This desolate scene was supposedly improved when the commander's baker general, Christopher Ludwick or Ludwig, improvised a stew using tripe, vegetable scraps and whatever meagre spices he had to hand. His brief was to "warm and strengthen the body of a soldier and inspire his flagging spirit," in Washington's words. Legend maintains that this brew revived the beleaguered army, sustaining it through its darkest months, and helped lead to its eventual victory.

The story, though stirring, is almost certainly untrue. Pepper pot is a Caribbean dish, and it may well be that slaves and freedmen brought a taste for spicy broth to Philadelphia. But Caribbean cuisine makes little use of tripe. The French and (ironically) the English are more partial to the cratered stomach lining of the cow, with its elastic texture and distinctive – not to say unpleasant – taste and smell, this last resembling ripe manure. (Readers who have yet to try the delicacy may now be suspecting it was yet another hardship to befall the Continental army.)

Nonetheless, pepper pot became as emblematic a Philly dish as cheesesteak, scrapple, hoagies and water ice. By 1811 the popular artist John Lewis Krimmel was exhibiting Pepper Pot: A Scene in the Philadelphia Market, in which a barefoot African American woman ladles out evidently popular stew.

Andy Warhol used Campbell's canned version in a famous 1962 painting, sold five years ago for almost $12m. The Philadelphia chapter of the Public Relations Society of America even began using the pepper pot as the symbol for its annual awards in 1968.

But true, tripey pepper pot has dwindled in popularity, and is now merely a curio in a few Philadelphia restaurants. The famous City Tavern sells a West Indian version on its lunch menu which reportedly does neglects tripe altogether. But whether or not pepper pot was served at Valley Forge, the dish does retain something of the frugality and hardship that the war entailed.

American patriots remembering the struggle for independence may still do well to make it.

Philadelphia pepper pot

Serves 6

1.5lb cleaned, precooked honeycomb tripe
3 tbsps butter
2 onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
2 carrots, diced
2 sticks celery, diced
Bunch fresh thyme
Bunch fresh rosemary
3 bay leaves
3 cloves
3-5 tbsps black peppercorns, crushed
1 veal knuckle
2 litres beef stock (optional)
Cayenne pepper

Wash the tripe well in cold water. Put it in a large pan, cover with cold water and simmer for 20 minutes. Drain, leave to cool, then chop into smallish cubes. Melt the butter and sauté the vegetables and garlic until soft. And the herbs and spices. Return the tripe to the pan with the veal knuckle and add the stock if using. Cover the ingredients with cold water, bring to a simmer and remove any scum. Simmer gently for 1.5-2 hours.

Remove the veal knuckle and allow to cool, then remove the meat from the bone. Chop this roughly and return it to the pan to warm through. Season to taste.

Ladle the soup into hot bowls, scatter with freshly chopped parsley and serve with crusty bread (and with cayenne pepper for those who like it extra hot.)