Anthony Bourdain hates your garlic press.


In his epic tell all, Kitchen Confidential, my favorite kitchen kermudgeon, Anthony Bourdain, had this to say about garlic.

“Garlic is divine. Few food items can taste so many distinct ways, handled correctly. Misuse of garlic is a crime. Old garlic, burnt garlic, garlic cut too long ago and garlic that has been tragically smashed through one of those abominations, the garlic press, are all disgusting. Please treat your garlic with respect. Sliver it for pasta, like you saw in Goodfellas; don’t burn it. Smash it, with the flat of your knife blade if you like, but don’t put it through a press. I don’t know what that junk is that squeezes out the end of those things, but it ain’t garlic. And try roasting garlic. It gets mellower and sweeter if you roast it whole, still on the clove, to be squeezed out later when it’s soft and brown. Nothing will permeate your food more irrevocably and irreparably than burnt or rancid garlic. Avoid at all costs that vile spew you see rotting in oil in screw-top jars. Too lazy to peel fresh? You don’t deserve to eat garlic.”

Ah Tony Bourdain, never at a loss for words…
Is he over the top?
Absolutely.
Is he correct?
I’d say 90% yes, but let’s just break down his specific contentions to be sure, shall we?

First off, we have the implied divinity of garlic: Is he right?
In a word, yup.


Allium Sativum, of the Family Rosacea, (why it’s sometimes called ‘the stinking rose), is indeed magic, and its broad, utilitarian beauty is admirable. No other veggie has that ethereal combination of bite, heat, and sweet that garlic packs. What the author doesn’t note is that all garlic is not created equal. There are hundreds of cultivated garlic varieties worldwide, which is great if you’re a gardener or know a generous one. If you have a green thumb and your cultivation zone can handle it, by all means grow it. Just Google ‘Heirloom garlic starts’ and you’ll find a veritable cornucopia of options. Otherwise, hit up your local farmers market or CSA and load up when the magic is in season.

Great garlic is usually not available year round to the vast majority of us. As such, some plan for preservation is in order. Drying is your best bet; while there is a certain loss of flavor, it’s a given that great garlic dried will be better than OK garlic fresh, so it’s worth the effort. You should peel the cloves, and at the least, cut ’em in half, though you can chop or mince if you like; process in a dehydrator or warm oven until they’re light and dry to the feel.

Please know that garlic in oil is not a safe methodology; garlic is a low acid food, and you’re begging for botulism here. Making garlic oil in small batches and freezing it is A-OK. Puree your garlic, mix it with good olive oil, strain it through cheese cloth or a fine, double sieve. This is another perfect ice cube tray application – freeze it that way and pop a cube out for use.

You can and should pickle garlic, it’s delightful and has a complexity like no other. Finally, garlic salt or pepper are nice options as well. Kosher or sea salt both work fine, though the uniform grain of kosher probably works best; for garlic pepper, use whole black tellicherry berries. 1/4 cup of garlic for each cup of salt or pepper will do the trick. Preheat your oven to warm, or 180° F, and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Peel the garlic cloves, then add them straight away with the salt or pepper to a food processor. Process for about 30 seconds, until you’ve got a uniform texture. Spread the results into an even, thin layer on your baking sheet. Bake for about an hour, until the results are crisp and dry. You do not want them to brown, so keep an eye on things. Transfer the salt or pepper back to the processor using the parchment. Pulse a few times to break things up to an even consistency. Stored in airtight glass jars, your housemade lovelies are good to go for 3 or 4 months.

If the grocery is your only option, then what you’re likely to find will break down into three varieties; Softneck, Hardneck, and Elephant. 

Softneck Garlic is the most common variety you’ll find; this is the fat, white head of multiple cloves with several layers of papery, thin skin surrounding that you can score for roughly .50¢ a pop. It’s also the easiest variety to grow in a backyard garden. Softneck garlic has a fairly strong garlic bite and a sweet, pungent odor. Most garlic heads that have been braided together are softneck varieties. Common Softneck varieties include California Early, California Late and Creole.

Hardneck Garlic is a bit less common, but still can be found in grocery stores. Hardneck features lovely shades of purple through brown, with thin skins and larger and fewer cloves than the softneck stuff. These varieties are generally somewhat stronger in flavor and scent than the soft stuff, and they generally don’t store as well, so it’s prudent to use them quickly after you buy. Commonly found Hardneck varieties include German Extra Hearty and Roja.

Elephant Garlic is the third variant you’re likely to find. It features a big ol’ head of very large cloves that can approach shallots in size. Prized for its subtle, mild flavor and scent, elephant garlic is great for folks who don’t like their garlic too assertive.

Onward! Bourdain’s next claim is that garlic “can taste so many distinct ways, handled correctly,” and that “misuse of garlic is a crime;” he is spot on here, though there are a couple of critical points left unstated.
First off, what the artist formerly known as Chef doesn’t say is this; more than how you prep it, the most important caveat for “correct” is how much garlic to use. Garlic is by nature potent, and this is why so many cooks over-season with it. Too much can bring out the negative aspects of its character every bit as much as improper cooking can. My simple rule is this: If the dish you’re making has garlic in the title, then you should use enough to bring it to the forefront of the flavor profile. When this is the case, do consider what form you’re going to use the garlic in. Let’s say you’re making garlic lamb or chicken; whole, peeled cloves added to a brine or marinade, or braised or roasted with the protein will deliver a lot of garlic flavor without blowing your socks off. Fewer cloves minced, diced, or crushed can be every bit as potent or more so than whole peeled cloves.
If garlic is not in a lead role, err to the side of caution and use less than you think you should. Let’s take chili for example – Garlic belongs here, but not as a dominant note. You’re after the subtle, sweet mouth feel a little garlic adds to a dish like this, so a moderate sized clove, one clove, will do for a whole pot of chili. That’s what I mean by subtle use; folks won’t even necessarily know garlic is there, but it will add that certain je ne sais quoi nonetheless. Consider adding peeled, whole cloves to soups, stews, and low and slow braised or roasted dishes; that’ll impart a nice, subtle background flavor, and some lucky diner gets to find a treat as well.

Next comes old garlic, and that is indeed a crime of epic proportion. Add to this, sub-par garlic. Since in large part we’re talking about gathering here, (AKA, shopping), then with whichever variety you’re hunting, do your due diligence. Choose firm, uniform heads with no soft spots, off colors, or smells. You should squeeze and scrutinize garlic as you would any other veggie you pay good money for.
Then there’s the storage thing. I’ll just tell ya straight up that garlic does not belong in the fridge, ’cause that will encourage sprouting, which leads pretty quickly to off flavors. Keep your garlic in a well ventilated, dry container, out of strong, direct sunlight. Garlic will last a month or two so stored, but as cheap as it is, you’re best served to buy a small head at a time and use it promptly.
When you’re ready to use the stuff, fresh garlic cloves should be firm and creamy white in color; if they’re yellowish, have brown spots, and/or are starting to sprout, toss it. That stuff will have a hot, bitter taste that is quite off-putting.

Burnt garlic comes next, and should we even have to say no to that? Actually, we do, because it happens far too often. Burnt garlic brings out the worst in this heavenly stuff, turning complex, sweet and pungent to bitter, sour, and overpowering. It will overwhelm everything else in a dish in a New York minute. Understanding how and why garlic burns is the key to avoiding this mess. Throwing garlic into a dish too soon often leads to burning: In a little oil in a saucepan over medium high heat, any form of processed garlic can and will burn within a minute or two at most; that’s why it should always be the last thing you add. Longer cooking under any kind of high heat will make garlic taste bitter, even if you don’t burn it. Smashing, pressing, mincing, dicing, and slicing garlic releases more flavor than cooking with whole cloves, but it also makes for a bunch more surface area that can potentially burn.
This ties into Anthony’s next assertion, castigating “garlic cut too long ago and garlic that has been tragically smashed through one of those abominations, the garlic press.”


For the former, he’s right on the money. The longer garlic sits after being cut, the more the essential oils and compounds that make it great begin to break down into other, much less desirable constituents. Ideally, it should be prepped 5 to 10 minutes prior to cooking with it; this little rest helps stabilizes the garlic, making it more resistant to heat.
As to the latter, I respectfully disagree. Pressed garlic is no more a crime than puréed, smashed, or minced.
Furthermore, there not only is a place for all these variants in cooking, they may actually be good for us.

Garlic contains a sulfoxide derivative of the amino acid cysteine, called Alliin, as well as a catalyzing enzyme, Alliinase. In a whole clove, these constituents remain separated within the cell structure. Slicing, chopping, mincing or pressing garlic ruptures the cells, releasing these elements to combine and form a new compound, Alliicin, the primary biologically active compound within garlic. Alliisin is garlic’s defense mechanism, released to ward of pests in the natural world. It is responsible for the pungent aroma, as well as the bite/heat/power of the stuff. Alliicin has known anti-fungal and anti-bacterial properties, and may aid in the reduction of atherosclerosis, decrease blood pressure, and provide anti-inflammatory properties as well.
In short, sorry Tony, but chopping, mashing and yes, even pressing garlic finely, produces more Alliisin, and coincidentally, provides the strongest garlic bang for the buck.
He goes on to vilify any form of processed garlic sold in a jar, and for the most part, he’s right. That stuff is far from fresh, and whatever methods are used to shelf stabilize it aren’t anything you should be hankering for.

Next, Bourdain encourages us all to enjoy roast garlic, and upon this there can be nothing negative said.
Roast garlic is indeed food of the gods, and here’s how you do it.

Preheat your oven to 400° F and place a rack dead in the middle.

Prep whole heads of garlic by removing the thicker outer papery layers.
Leave the skins on the individual cloves and carefully remove about the top 1/4″ of each, exposing the cloves.

Drizzle a little extra virgin olive oil in each clove, then loosely cover them with aluminum foil.

Roast for about 30 minutes until the tops of each clove is golden brown and they’re soft to the touch.

Allow the cloves to cool until handleable. Use a small fork or knife to extract the soft garlic and spread it onto fresh, crusty bread. Welcome to Heaven.

If roasted garlic is heaven, confit garlic is Valhalla.

Peel a few heads of garlic down to whole cloves.

In a small sauce pan over medium low heat, heat extra virgin olive oil through, then add the garlic, making sure all the cloves are fully submerged. Heat slowly but thoroughly for about an hour, until the cloves are soft. Keep the heat low so that the garlic doesn’t brown. Serve spread onto fresh, crusty bread with a nice glass of red.

Lastly, Le Tony notes, “Too lazy to peel fresh? You don’t deserve to eat garlic.”
And on that final note, we disagree completely. 

As I mentioned before, great garlic dried is really good garlic, especially if you made it at home.

 

That ain’t how we play…


I tweak and republish this post annually; I think you’ll see why when you read it.

See, I’m not out to be tragically hip, in fact quite the contrary. Or maybe Matthew Selman said it best; “I wish there was another word than foodie; how about ‘super food asshole’, or ‘pretentious food jerk’?” I just don’t wanna go there.

Granted, there are a lot of great food blogs out there, but right now, many are judged ‘Great’ because somebody took a really, really nice pic of some food, or is on the fast track to be the next Food Channel Super Food Asshole. Frankly, when the ‘best’ food blog sites reject people because they don’t meet criterion such as that, I’m more than not interested, I’m actively turned off. 

I write about food from some pretty simple perspectives. I’m interested in sharing recipes, methods, processes and such. I’m interested in sourcing, using wisely, and preserving food that is good for you, in a world where much of what we are offered to eat is not very good. I’m interested in the science behind cooking, because I’ve never liked simply being told to ‘do it this way.’ I trust that if you’re reading this, you’re interested in these things as well. To be honest, if no one read this blog, I’d write it anyway, because I do it for me first and foremost; I gotta share what I love. That’s just how I’m wired.

So, when I look at ‘real’ food blogs, I see the stuff that, fairly often, folks ask me about here, or more to the point, ask me why I don’t do these things. There are three oft repeated comments, and they are,
Why don’t you list nutritionals and calories,
Why don’t you post prep and cooking times, and
Why do you post exotic ingredients that I’m not likely to have?

So, in a nutshell, here’s why;

Frankly, listing nutritionals means, more than anything, that I am determining what kind of portion size you and yours eat, and frankly, I don’t have any idea about that. If I list a casserole recipe and you make it, how much do you eat? How about your partner? Do you have seconds, are there leftovers, and on and on. This ain’t a restaurant, and I’d bet your house isn’t either; neither of us needs everyone to eat the same portion. For the record, I predominantly do recipes for two, with planned leftovers, the idea being general efficiency, and the fact that anything good will be great the next day. Other than that, you’re kinda on your own. I mean I can give you a great biscuit recipe, but how big you make ’em, and how many y’all wolf down is kinda your gig, right?
Don’t get me wrong, nutrition IS important and should be monitored in some way, shape, or form. The best way to this is to buy carefully and thoughtfully. Buy locally whenever you can. Read the labels on food and avoid the stuff that’s truly bad for you. Grow anything and everything you can. Preserve what you buy or grow so that you can notably extend the time it is available to you. Make everything you can, from scratch, at home. That may sound more intensive than what you do now, but if you really care about nutrition, you’ll do it. And as far as we go, whenever you need or want detailed nutritionals on our recipes, just click on our link for Calorie Count and go to town. There’s a mobile version out for your Apple or Android smart phone as well now.

Next comes prep and cooking time.


Weeeeeellllll, how do I say this? Listing prep time is, in my not even remotely close to humble opinion, one of the dumbest things I’ve ever read. The problem is actually pretty obvious. Listing prep time says we all prep at the same level, and nothing could be further from the truth. Heck, I have three preppers in my cafe and they all perform differently… So really, the question is who’s prep time are we talking about? Mine? Yours? Emeril’s? I’ve been cutting things for decades and have pretty damn good knife skills; do you? I can stem, seed and core a tomato blindfolded, without cutting myself, in about 15 seconds; can you? I don’t even think about process and procedure any more, it just comes naturally; does it for you? And if your answers are ‘No’, does that make you slow? If I can prep Dish A in 10 minutes and you take 20, should you not make that dish? Of course not! And really, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. How about what ingredients you have right on hand when you start your prep, how well equipped your kitchen is, how your day went, how many rug rats are flying around your feet, or how many critters need to go out right NOW?! Get the picture? My bottom line is simple – Who gives a rats ass how long it takes if you have the time and want to make it? If you’re cooking regularly, you either already have a decent sense of what you can and will accomplish in a given time, or you will develop one in time. If you really do like cooking and want to do it, you’ll do it.

Finally, there’s the exotic ingredient thing. Yes, I have a whacky spice cabinet. You may or may not have a pantry like ours, but I really don’t think that matters. We have all this stuff because we dedicated lot of time and energy into developing and perfecting recipes to share with y’all. Whether or not you need that much stuff is up to you. Does a couple avocado leaves and a little annatto really make or break good chili? If you’re asking me, I think the question is rhetorical. And frankly, I don’t buy the ‘why do you use ingredients I’m not likely to have’ complaint for a second; in this day and age, almost anyone in this country, and many others, can get anything they want. I recently shared a bacon recipe with a pal from South Africa. He ended up having to go all over creation to find several ingredients, but he did it, ’cause he really wants to try my recipe. Kinda like that last discussion on prep and cooking, huh? Ive mailed corn meal to Australia and mustard seed to Israel; if you can’t get something you wanna try, hit me up, I’ll help. I’ve also gotta point out that we constantly encourage and desire experimentation, so if you’re making it, put what you like in it: Give us credit the first time, and then it’s yours…
I say that if you love cooking and great food, maybe you should check out Tasmanian Pepperberry, or Urfa Bebir; who knows what you’ll do with them?

We do this because dear friends who love to grow, cook, preserve and explore as much as we do asked us to. We do this because we have a love for good food and cooking shared. We do this because we hope to inspire such in y’all. If that ain’t good enough, so be it.

September is Hunger Action Month

It’s great time to get involved…


It is indeed, and we can all play a part.

Hunger is pandemic throughout our world, and right here in the U.S. is no exception. In fact, your home town is likely no exception.

Granted, we should all do our part year round, but this is as good a time to start, share, or emphasize as any.

I don’t generally like being told what charity or effort needs my help, but in something as basic and pervasive as this, I think we can all make an exception. Here are some ideas for all of us.

 

1. Volunteer at a local food bank or shelter. None of these institutions is swimming in personnel, and all of them rely on volunteers too some degree.

2. Volunteers to deliver for Meals on Wheels. It’s a great program and a wonderful opportunity to help.

3. Donate from your garden. Fall is a significant harvest season. If you or someone you know has fresh produce to spare, donate to an area food bank. Fresh produce is almost always the hardest thing for them to find on a consistent basis, so next planting cycle, plant a row or two specifically to donate from.

4. Organize a neighborhood/area/school/town food drive. If your local haunt doesn’t have such services, I’d almost guarantee there’s a need; maybe you’re the one to make it happen. If they do have services, they’ll never say no to a well organized food drive.

Maitake Madness

Also known as Hen of the Woods, Maitakes are a fabulous treat.


Our dearest friends Christy and Grant, who were largely responsible for this blog coming to be, are inveterate growers of mushrooms. They have fine crops of quite a few fairly exotic and more-often-found as wild varieties growing on their northern Minnesota spread. All that said, they still like to forage, and yesterday, they happened on a real treat and a rarity in their neck of the woods, a 10 pound Maitake mushroom.

Take note – that’s a 16″ ruler!

If the Japanese name for these beauties doesn’t strike a chord, you may know it as Hen of the Woods, Rams Head, Sheeps Head, or the Signorina mushroom. They’re widely prized for eating by numerous cultures. Maitake and its close cousin, Chicken of the Woods, are two of my all time favorite fungi; they have a bright, savory taste profile that even folks who “don’t like mushrooms” will likely dig. Grifola frondosa is the formal name for Maitakes, which are native to the northeastern US and Japan. They grow in clusters at the base of trees, and are particularly fond of oaks. As with all fungi, you should forage only what you can 100% positively identify. Note that Maitakes, like many fungus, becomes just too tough to eat when they get long in the tooth.

Chris asked for some recipe ideas, which we’ll definitely do, but first, a few words on preserving. If you’re lucky enough to come upon a big stash of wild mushrooms like this, you absolutely must preserve some to enjoy in the dark months down the road. Freezing or drying are both viable options.

For either freezing or drying, thoroughly but gently wash each head until the rinse water runs clear.

Separate the heads into smaller, cauliflower-like stalks, and rinse the remaining stalks thoroughly again.

To freeze, allow the stalks to air dry. Arrange stalks on a cookie sheet with room for air flow around each. Place in your freezer overnight.

Frozen stalks can be vacuum sealed, or tossed into ziplock bags that you then suck the air out of. Frozen mushrooms will keep for 4 to 6 months frozen.

To dry Maitakes, place them in a dehydrator, or separated on a cookie sheet in an oven on warm, with the oven door opened slightly. Dry until the stalks are light, shriveled and snap easily without bending, even at their thickest points. Drying has the added advantage of making a big batch of mushrooms much easier to store. Well dried mushrooms will store for up to 12 months.

OK, ’nuff on preserving, let’s cook; here are three recipes that will work wonderfully with Maitake, or dang near any other wild mushrooms you like, solo or blended.

Mushroom Pho

FOR BROTH:
1 Quart cold Water
1 Quart Vegetable Stock
1 Pound Maitake Mushrooms
8-10 Ounce package Rice Noodles
1 Sweet Onion
1-2 Serrano Chiles
3-4 cloves Garlic
2 Tablespoons Mirin, (Rice Vinegar OK for sub)
2 Tablespoons Black Peppercorns
1 Tablespoon Sichuan peppercorns
3″ to 4″ fresh Lemongrass (1-2 tablespoons)
2″ piece fresh Ginger root
10-12 sprigs fresh Cilantro
Soy Sauce to taste

For Garnishing,
Radishes
Fresh bean sprouts
Fresh Cilantro
Fresh Mint
Fresh Basil leaves
Fresh Limes

Combine water and stock in a stock pot over medium high heat.

Rough chop onion and mushrooms. Fine dice chiles and lemongrass. Mince garlic, cilantro, and ginger.

Sauté onions and garlic with a little vegetable oil until they start to caramelize, then toss them into the stock pot.

Deglaze the sauté pan with rice vinegar. Add a tablespoon of soy sauce, allow to heat through. Add chiles, lemongrass, and ginger and sauté until the chiles start to soften. Add another tablespoon of oil and toss in the mushrooms. Sauté for about 5 minutes until heated through, then set mushrooms aside and toss the rest into the stock pot.

Combine peppercorns in a piece of muslin or a reusable tea bag. Toss them into the pot. Add the chopped cilantro and give everything a good stir. Add soy sauce if you need more; if it’s a bit strong for your taste, squeeze in half a lime instead.

Reduce heat to low and let simmer for two to four hours. Remove the peppercorns.

Boil the rice noodles in a separate pot per directions on the bag.

Thinly slice radishes, quarter the limes, rough chop cilantro, mint, and Basil.

Give every bowl a healthy dose of broth, mushrooms, and noodles. Everybody gets to add sprouts, radish, cilantro, mint, and basil as they see fit.

Serve with icy cold Singha Malt Liquor.

 

 

Savory mushrooms are incredibly delicious combined with wild rice and a delicate soufflé; the combination is sublimely flavorful and surprisingly hearty.

4 oz. Wild Rice
1/2 Cup Maitake Mushrooms
1 1/2 Cups Half & Half
1 Cup Extra Sharp White Cheddar Cheese
4 Egg Whites
3 EggYolks
3 Tablespoons unsalted Butter
2 Tablespoons All Purpose Flour
1/2 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground Grains of Paradise

Prepare rice according to directions.

In a sauce pan over medium heat, melt butter, then add flour, salt and pepper. Cook the roux for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly, until you get a nice color to it.

Add the half & half, stirring constantly, until sauce starts to bubble. Add the cheese steadily in 1/4 cup batches, allowing each to melt completely before you add more. Once all the cheese is incorporated, remove from east and set aside.

In a chilled glass or stainless steel bowl, whisk egg whites until they hold a stuff peak. Set aside in the fridge.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks until they’re thick and lemon colored.

Gradually add the yolks to the cheese sauce, stirring constantly so egg yolks don’t curdle.

Add the rice to the blend and incorporate thoroughly. Cool the blend in hand fridge for 15 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375° F.

Lightly butter and dust with flour a 2 quart soufflé dish or individual ramekins.

Gently fold the beaten egg whites into the rice mixture. Gently pour the mix into the soufflé dish.

Bake for 20 minutes or until the soufflé has risen and is golden brown.

Serve piping hot with a fresh green salad and a nice Chardonnay.

 

 

Finally, here’s a fantastic mushroom pâté that’ll blow your socks off, as well as your guests’.

1 Pound Maitake Mushrooms
8 Ounces Chèvre
1/2 Cup fine diced fresh Shallot
1/2 Cup dry White Wine
3 Tablespoons unsalted Butter
2-3 cloves fresh Garlic, minced
2 Tablespoons fresh Parsley leaves, minced
1 teaspoon fresh Lemon Thyme (1 teaspoon dried, any variety, is fine)
1/2 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black Pepper

Trim stems, wipe clean, and coarsely chop the Maitakes.

In a large sauté pan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the shallots and garlic and sauté, stirring steadily, until they start to go translucent, about 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the mushrooms and continue to sauté and stir until the Maitakes are wilted and starting to brown. Add the wine, thyme, salt, and pepper, and continue to sauté and stir until the wine is nearly all absorbed, about 5 minutes. Add the parsley and sauté for another minute.

Transfer everything to a food processor. Add the chèvre and process until all ingredients are thoroughly combined. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Transfer to a glass ramekin or bowl, cover and refrigerate for at least 3 to 4 hours to allow pâté to set.

Cut a fresh baguette into round about 1/2″ thick. Rub the rounds lightly with a clove of garlic and toast them on both sides.

Serve pâté with toast rounds and a nice, cold hard cider.

Tomato Time


We’re up in northern Minnesota for a gathering of the Luthier Community, and the heirloom tomatoes at Grant and Christie’s, some 25 varieties, are coming ripe every day. I’ve been in hog heaven cooking for the gang, let me tell you.

Here’s a post over on Big wild Food for you to play with.

E & M

Corn, by any other name


Far and away, the questions I hear most often when it comes to cooking with milled corn products are these;

‘What’s the difference between corn meal and corn flour’,
‘Can I make the same recipe with either,’
‘What’s the difference between corn meal and grits, or polenta,’
‘What’s the difference between white and yellow corn meal or flour,’
‘What’s the difference between corn flour and Masa?’

The answer to the first is, the degree of milling – meal is coarser than flour, and to further confuse things, there is quite a bit of variety of meals out there. Steel ground yellow cornmeal, probably the most common variant found in the U.S., has the husk and germ of the corn kernel almost completely removed. As such, it’s kind of the equivalent of bleached, enriched wheat flour; a lot of the stuff that is good for you, along with a chunk of the taste, has been removed. Stone-ground cornmeal retains some of the hull and germ, and as such also has better flavor and nutritional properties. It is more perishable, but will store longer if refrigerated. White cornmeal, made from white corn, and also can be found in steel ground or stone ground variants.

The answer to the second is, technically, I guess you could, but you wouldn’t get the same results, and you probably wouldn’t like one of the variants. Recipes designed for meal want a different texture than those made with flour; think cornbread versus a biscuit, and you get the gist.

The answer to the third is, maybe nothing, but if there is a difference, it’s a pretty fine point of variance in the coarseness of milling. Google the difference between grits and polenta and you’ll see a firestorm of opinion akin to asking ‘What is real chili?’ I have the solution for you; avoid the controversy and go find a bag of Bob’s Red Mill Corn Grits, also know as Polenta. Works great for both; debate over…

The answer to the fourth is, it depends on who you ask. Some will tell you that the only difference between the two is the the color; that may or may not be true, as there is more than one variety used for making the things we eat. In any case, the bottom line is that they are absolutely interchangeable in recipes.

And finally, for question five, corn flour and masa harina are quite different preparations of corn. Masa harina is corn flour that is ground from dried hominy. White, yellow, or blue corn is used for making hominy, also known as posole or pozole. The corn is boiled in a solution containing powdered lime, then washed, dried, and ground to form masa harina. Masa is the only thing to use for making corn tortillas and tamales, far as I’m concerned. Untreated corn flour is basically fine-ground cornmeal. I use it in recipes where I want corn flavor without the gritty texture of corn meal. Corn flour contains no gluten, so makes a good substitute for wheat flours in pan and short bread and cake recipes, though the proportions may need a bit of tweaking to get just right. If you sub corn flour for wheat flour in a rising bread or cake recipe, you need to add vital wheat gluten, since corn has none.

While we’re describing the various things corn is made into, let’s not forget cornstarch. Cornstarch is obtained from the white heart of the corn kernel. It’s a tasteless, fine powder that is very useful as a thickener; it boasts twice the thickening power of wheat or corn flour. It’s best to stir cornstarch into water first before it is added to other foods, so that it can be incorporated without getting lumpy; use enough water to make a loose slurry as opposed to a paste when you mix it. One thing to note if you’re on the other side of the pond; cornstarch is referred to as corn flour in England.

There is a broad assumption that white corn meal is preferred in the South and yellow is preferred in Texas and the rest of the U.S. While that statement certainly was true in the past, it’s not so valid as it used to be. The population base that made that a fact has aged and died, frankly, and the following waves are more likely to experiment, mix, and match.

All your meals, flours, and masa should always be relatively fresh. Stored in a cool, dry place in an airtight container, you can expect around 6 months of use from them.

As mentioned above, there are several varieties of corn used for making the stuff we eat and cook with. Here’s a brief primer that will help you get a better grasp on things. This is a fairly rudimentary outline. For many decades, corn in America, like beer and cheese, was reduced to a few basic varieties; that trend has changed radically in the 21st Century. Heirloom varieties have exploded in the last 15 years; this has tumbled out to the folks growing their own, as well as to small cottage industries. As such, varieties have expanded and reemerged in unprecedented numbers. This is most definitely a good thing.

Dent (Zea mays indenata)
Dent or Field corn may be either white or yellow, and is predominantly used for processed foods, industrial products, and as livestock feed often used as livestock feed. No-name, really cheap corn meal or flour may be made from this variety. Dent kernels become notably indented at maturity, hence the name for the variety.

Flint (Zea mays indurata)
Flint or Indian corn is used for similar purposes as dent corn, as well as for decoration come fall. This variety is distinguished by a hard outer shell and kernels with a wide range of colors. When you see blue, red, or white flours, meals, chips and tortillas, you’re looking at flint corn. The variety is named for it’s hard or ‘flinty’ exterior.

Sweet (Zea saccharata or Zea rugosa)
Sweet corn is the variety we eat as corn on the cob. It is also canned and frozen. Seldom used for feed or flour, this variety is named for its higher sugar content, (around 10%, versus maybe 4% for Field corn). THE thing to remember is that roughly half the available sugars in sweet corn degrade notably within 24 hours of picking; if ever there was a thing you wanted to get locally from a good CSA, sweet corn is it.

Flour (Zea mays amylacea)
Flour corn has a soft, starchy kernel that lends itself well to grinding, so it is the primary variety used by companies in the U.S. to make meal and flour. Flour corn is primarily white, although it can be grown in other colors, including yellow, red, and blue. One of the oldest varieties, flour corn was grown by Native Americans before the rest of us showed up here.

Popcorn (Zea mays everta)
Popcorn is a variant of flint corn, with a soft starchy center surrounded by a very hard exterior shell. When heated, the natural moisture inside the kernel quickly turns to steam and builds up enough pressure for the kernel to explode, exposing the white starchy mass we like to graze on. All types of corn will pop to some degree, but they won’t necessarily have enough starch to turn inside out, or an outside layer that will create enough pressure to explode. One of the oldest forms of corn, evidence of popcorn over 5,500 hundred years old has been found in New Mexico.

OK, so enough learnin’, lets talk about what you should have in your pantry if you want to build corn recipes. The bottom line is that corn flours and meals are cheap and readily available, so you should aim for stocking the same stuff I do. Remember that quality counts; opt for fresh and local whenever you can and you’ll never go wrong. I stock white corn flour, masa, and white and yellow corn meal, and grits/polenta.

Alright, now we’re ready to cook. Here’re my go-to recipes for corn bread, tortillas, grits, and polenta.

Urb’s Corn Bread
1 1/2 Cups Yellow Corn Meal
1/2 Cup Corn Flour
2 teaspoons Baking Powder
1 Cup Whole Milk (or, in order of rising decadence, Half & Half or Buttermilk)
1 Egg
4 Tablespoons Lard (Unsalted Butter is fine)
1/2 teaspoon Sea Salt

Optional Additions:
Add 1/2 Cup extra sharp Cheddar or Pepper Jack cheese.
Add 1 – 3 seeded, cored and diced Jalapeño chiles.
1 ear of corn on the cob, cut down to kernels

Preheat oven to 400° F

Pour cornmeal into a bowl and add the milk; mix well and allow to sit for 15 minutes. This is a biggy in terms of making moist cornbread.

Mix remaining dry ingredients in a large bowl.

Melt the fat, then combine all ingredients and mix by hand to a nice, even batter consistency.

Place the pan(s) you’ll do the bread in into the oven, with a small dot of fat in each pan, (Or a tablespoon full if using a single pan).

When the fat is melted and sizzling, remove the pan, pour in the batter and return to the oven.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until golden brown.

Serve Hot with, as Julia Child would say, ‘lots and lots of butter!’

Corn Tortillas
2 Cups Masa Harina
1.25 to 1.50 Cups hot Water

In a mixing bowl, combine the Masa and water by hand and blend until you get a nice, consistent dough that does not stick to your hands. You don’t want the dough too dry, either; shoot for a dough that holds together, isn’t sticky, but feels moist to the hand.

Roll the dough into 12 equal balls and allow to sit for about 10 minutes.

Whether you use a pin or a press, cut a gallon plastic storage bag into two equal sheets and place a ball of dough between them, then press or roll to roughly 6″ around.

In your pan or comal over medium high heat, cook the tortillas until you see that nice brown blistering form on each side. Each side will get 30 to 60 seconds of cooking time.

Stack your finished wrapped tortillas on a warmed plate under a clean towel to keep them warm.

Grits
1/2 Cup Bob’s Red Mill Grits
1/2 Cup whole Milk, (Half & Half, Whole Cream, and Buttermilk all work even better)
1 3/4 Cups Water
3/4 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground Pepper

Options:
1/4 Cup grated Extra Sharp Cheddar Cheese
2 Slices crisp cooked, thick cut bacon, chopped

In a saucepan over medium high heat, combine milk, water, salt, and pepper and bring to a rolling boil.

Shake grits into the center of the pan, stirring constantly to avoid lumps.

As soon as all the grits are incorporated, reduce heat to low and cover. You want your grits to cook at a low simmer, so keep an eye on that and adjust heat as needed.

You’re going to cook your grits for 20 minutes, but set a timer for 5 minutes and stir the grits, (So, you’re going to stir every 5 minutes for a total of 20 minutes).

After 20 minutes, taste your grits; if they’re not tender enough, cook for another 10 minutes, stirring after 5 minutes.

If you’re adding cheese and bacon, you can toss it in for the last 5 minutes of cooking, or offer it at the table with butter.

Leftover Grits?

Spread grits about an inch thick in a glass baking pan or oven proof skillet and refrigerate until firm to the touch.

Cut grits into roughly 4″ squares, season lightly with salt and pepper, then dust both sides with Wondra flour.

Fry in 2 ounces of butter and 1 ounce light vegetable oil, turning once, until golden brown. Served with red eye gravy, this is the bees knees.

Red Eye Gravy (Serves 2)
1/4 Cup Vegetable Oil
1 smoked ham steak, (About 1/2 Pound)
1 1/2 Cups brewed Coffee
1/2 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground Pepper
1-2 shots Tabasco Sauce

In a cast iron skillet over medium high heat, heat oil until shimmering.

Fry ham steak until nicely browned, remove to a warm oven.

Deglaze skillet with the coffee, stirring to incorporate all the juices and little bits of ham stuck to the pan. Season with salt and pepper

Bring liquid up to a high simmer and cook until gravy reduced by 1/3 and nicely coats a spoon.

Serve with grit cake, game and a over medium egg for a true little slice of breakfast heaven.

Basic Polenta
6 Cups Water
2 cups Bob’s Red Mill Corn Polenta
3 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground Pepper
1/2 Cup hard Cheese for topping, (Parmesan, Romano, Asiago)
1/2 teaspoon Extra Virgin Olive Oil

In a large, deep sauce pan over high heat, bring water and sea salt to a boil.

Add polenta gradually, stirring constantly to blend.

Reduce heat to a low simmer; you’ll cook polenta for about 30 minutes, so set a timer to stir and check the progress of the dish every 5 minutes. Make sure to stir gently but thoroughly, all the way to the bottom to check for sticking and burning.

When the polenta is very thick, stir in the butter and then season with salt and pepper.

Oil a glass baking pan; spoon the polenta into the pan, even out with a spatula, and allow to set for 15 minutes, until very firm to the touch.

Cut polenta into thick slices and serve hot.

Top with freshly grated cheese.