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This is a story about mush. As a kid up north, where breakfast was two eggs any
style, toast, and hash browns, I knew little about mush (unless you count
instant oatmeal). The word “grits” was not even part of the
local vernacular (with the exception of Flo talking sass on
television’s Alice), and it didn’t enter my frame of reference until I was
well into my twenties, when I worked at a diner owned by a couple of
grits-eating Floridians. The mush held such little appeal that it would be
years before my next encounter, and this time it was yellow and went by the
name “polenta.” Served with tomato sauce and cheese, my plate
of mush was so good that I lapped it up and went straight to the store and
bought a tube of polenta that all the magazines were raving about.
Unfortunately, this was not mush; this was cardboard posing as mush. So I
stayed away from the mush and pretty much had been leading a mush-free life
until one day someone asked me for mushy advice and I couldn’t
deliver. It was time to go back to the mush, stick my head
into the pot, study her, and decide once and for all whether I could bring
her back into my life. The short answer is yes. I’ve finally come
full circle.
Culinary questions? Contact Kim O’Donnel at
kim.odonnel@creativeloafing.com.
Polenta with a Spicy Tomato Sauce From A Passion for
Piedmont, by Matt Kramer
1/4 to 1/2 cup olive oil One small head of garlic (about 12 cloves), separated, peeled, and thinly sliced Six whole salted anchovy fillets, rinsed, soaked
briefly
in water and finely chopped Approximately 16 ounces of tomatoes —
five chopped fresh, seeded tomatoes or one can of tomato purée Handful of fresh Italian parsley leaves, finely
chopped One jalapeño pepper, seeded and diced, or 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
Cooked polenta (see below)
Pour olive oil in a small heavy-bottomed saucepan
over very low heat. Add the garlic and anchovies.
Add more olive oil if
necessary to barely cover the ingredients. Cook for at least 30 minutes,
making sure the garlic does not color or burn. Add the tomatoes, parsley, and pepper. Cook over
medium-low heat for another 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile,
make polenta.
Classic Polenta From A Passion for
Piedmont, by Matt Kramer
8 cups of water 2 teaspoons of salt 2 cups of stone-ground medium cornmeal (also sold as corn grits or polenta)
In a large heavy-bottomed pot, bring the water and
salt to a boil. Gradually drop the cornmeal into the pot one handful at a
time (think rain shower), stirring or whisking constantly. When all of the
cornmeal is incorporated — about five minutes — continue
stirring but lower the heat as the cornmeal mass thickens. It will soon
become fairly dense and take on volcanic qualities, occasionally erupting.
Lower the heat if necessary to minimize eruptions and stir regularly (every
two to three minutes) so all of the cornmeal gets equal heat exposure and
doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. As the polenta cooks, it will lighten in color and
become slightly fluffy in texture. When it is approaching a fully cooked
stage, it will start to pull away from the sides of the pot. At the
30-minute mark, the polenta is ready to be served, but you may keep cooking
and stirring for another 10 to 15 minutes for a thicker result. You
can’t really overcook polenta, as long as you keep stirring to
prevent scorching. Makes four entrée-sized servings.
This article appears in Jan 17-23, 2008.
