From the Vineyard Gazette edition of Feb. 27, 1948:

As surely as winter sets in and the weather becomes cold and uncomfortable, there is talk of eel stifle among Vineyarders. Especially the older people, who are most familiar with this dish, although there are younger ones who have tasted it in gratified amazement and have wondered how it could be possible to blend commonplace ingredients with an eel to produce so savory a mess.

It is proper to employ the word mess in this instance. Mess, as indicating a dish composed of various ingredients, is an ancient word indeed, and stifle may be even older. Webster says that the origin of the word is obscure, but he takes pains to state, in a variety of ways, that it means to smother. So eel stifle may be called smothered eels if it should sound better, though it would not affect the flavor of the dish in the least.

It is by no means certain that the eel stifle is peculiar to Martha’s Vineyard. As a matter of fact, eels, stewed in various ways, are eaten in all of the coastal states and the dish so concocted is called by various names.

But it seems, however, that there is something entirely of the place and people which goes into the Vineyard eel stifle and adds the final touch of flavor which gives the dish its distinction. No one ever ate a Vineyard eel stifle and later mentioned ever having eaten it elsewhere. Such is the unusual gastronomic charm of the Island dish.

It would be useless and worse than useless to attempt a description of the cooking of eel stifle, or to attempt to include a recipe in this article. From all points of the compass there would arise cries and even shrieks of protest. For some would declare that the potatoes must be diced instead of sliced, and others would insist that the eels must be braised before baking. Some insist on whole onions. Others want little if any, and so it would go, and as for quantities or measurements of anything; it is sacrilege!

The ancient Vineyard cook reached into the bulk containers and threw handfuls, pinches, or finger-loads into the cooking dish, guided by instinct alone. It is only safe to say that the dish contains eels, cut into sections, round eels, not the split variety, although there is no known reason why they could not and should not be used. There are onions, potatoes, diced salt pork, milk, and perhaps nothing else; the uninitiated would not know. Naturally there is seasoning, salt, probably, but what else? Ah, that is indeed a mystery!

The whole, placed in a deep dish, is baked in the oven. It comes out, browned on top, and likely enough with the eels all crisp, sizzling and tasty. But this is not a rule, because there are cooks who submerge the eels in the other ingredients, from which they are drawn, still bluish in color, but cooked until the bone can be drawn from the flesh.

No one has ever been heard of who failed to ask for a second helping of eel stifle. No one has ever been known, who, being hale and hearty, would hesitate to travel far, even through drifted snow, to eat of this ancient dish. Comment, on completion of such a meal, is traditionally limited to a soulful sigh; the diner is unable to utter further expression of satisfaction.

How importantly the eel stifle has figured in history can scarcely be imagined. The journals of early colonials are filled with references to the dish and the influence it worked upon important passages of peace, war and general policy.

It is straightly set forth that the famed romance of John Alden, Capt. Miles Standish and Priscilla Mullens, all hinged on the Puritan maid’s skill in cooking eel stifle. There is every indication that the promise of a standing invitation to dine whenever this dish was cooked in the Alden household, resulted in the prompt abandonment of his suit by the famous captain.

It is by no means improbable that the eel stifle was introduced to the Vineyard as a direct result of this early New England romance and the notice which it certainly attracted. For the daughter of this union, Betty Alden, was one of the early Vineyard settlers, and having no doubt learned to make eel stifle from her famous mother, brought the recipe to Tisbury where she lived with her husband, James Peabody.

It has been said that staid and stolid Governor Mayhew favored Peabody above all others among the patentees, following a visit to the Peabody home and a meal of eel stifle. “Odds blood!” he is said to have exclaimed, “now is the foundation of an successful colony truly laid!”

So has the Vineyard eel stifle been famous through all the years, the generations, the centuries since the first king’s agent in 1665 wrote of the Islanders: “Their homes are but small and mean, but the poorest among them dines on eel stifle of excellence unknown to the lords of England.” So unto the present day, when awe-stricken Islanders of all ages will mention the name of an occasional older inhabitant with bated breath: “She knows how to make eel stifle!” This is fame.

Compiled by Hilary Wall
library@mvgazette.com