Tuesday, December 10, 2013

OUR FIRST SNOW FALL AND . . .

TIME FOR COMFORT FOOD. I made Osso Buco the other night and had one shank leftover with quite a bit of tomato sauce. It was snowing, or rather attempting to snow and the thought of something that would stick to the ribs went on like a light and suddenly the word polenta! came into my head. 


It isn't often that I make polenta but I've been making it off and on for almost 30 years so I've dabbled and experimented and read copious tomes on the subject. However, to my mind, the best one is the one you make yourself with a gallon of lightly salted, boiling water and about 2 cups of polenta. There are exceptions to every rule, though, and the one that I've enjoyed making every now and then is served on a huge platter topped with stewed meats or fowl with lots of sauce and an assortment of cheeses cut into bits on top (think Taleggio, Parmigiano, Fontina and Gorgonzola and you'll know what I mean).

The prime directive in making polenta is to sift the golden powder into the water a little bit at a time and continue to stir vigorously until you have a huge mass of bubbling porridge which wipes away clean at the bottom of the pot (about 20-35 minutes of labor intensive work!).

That's one way to make polenta. There are others; grilled, fried, and with various ingredients in the boiling liquid, such as milk, stock, half-and-half, cream or a combination of some or all of them. There is a fabulous recipe in Johanne Kelleen and George Germon's cookbook Cucina Simpatica, which actually is someone else's recipe (proper acknowledgment to Mike Lepizzera). His recipe to my mind is so radical - and outrageously delicious - that it begs repeating here.

1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 pound (two sticks) butter
1-1/2-2 teaspoons chopped garlic
2 cups chicken stock
1-1/2 quarts half-and-half
1-1/2-2 tsp Kosher salt
12 turns of a black pepper grinder
1 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
2 cups polenta
Pinch of sugar
2 cups freshly grated Pecorino Romano

Melt the butter and olive oil. Add the garlic and simmer over low heat until the garlic becomes golden.

Add the stock and half-and-half, plus 2-1/2 cups water, salt, black and red peppers and stir to combine. Raise heat and bring liquid to the boil. 

Very slowly, add the polenta, stirring occasionally. After all the polenta has been added, lower the heat to maintain a gentle boil.  Continue to stir until it is thick and creamy (20-30 minutes).

Off the heat, add the sugar and the Romano. Serve immediately with a tomato sauce of your choice, with or without meat or game. As I mentioned earlier, I had it with leftover Osso Buco and the following night we ate it, fried with Italian sausages.

What could be simpler?

Just to give credit where credit is due: among the "tomes" I mentioned above, Marcella Hazan, of course, is numero uno! But there are others, too! Yotam Ottolenghi's book Plenty is all about vegetables but therein lies the rub: polenta may be considered a starch but it comes from corn so it, too, is a vegetable and he has some pretty incredible recipes with pictures on this all-inclusive legume. His summer corn polenta is made from fresh, sweet corn and it looks simply amazing and what's more, he serves it with a middle-Eastern sort of Caponatina! A man after my own heart!

But the blue ribbon goes to Teresa Rust in her book Pass the Polenta because she puts this whole polenta thing in its proper perspective. Trendy restaurants "charging [such high] prices for leftovers!" And it's true. Creamy polenta, once cooled, hardens and will never regain a creamy texture. So, when you see grilled or fried polenta in antipasti or on the menu, it was made the day before!

So, enjoy and buon appetito!

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