Read The Cornbread Gospels Online
Authors: Crescent Dragonwagon
Vegetable oil cooking spray
½ cup milk
4 cups corn kernels (either cut from about 8 ears of fresh corn, see Shuck and Jive,
page 49
; or frozen corn kernels, measured and thawed)
3 eggs, separated
1 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal
¼ cup unbleached white flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon paprika or mild powdered red chiles
3 tablespoons sugar
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
4 to 6 scallions, white and 1 inch of green, diced
½ teaspoon aniseed
⅓ cup raisins
1½ cups (6 ounces) grated Monterey Jack cheese
¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
1.
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Spray a 1½-quart baking dish with oil.
2.
Combine the milk with 3 cups of the corn in the food processor and pulse-chop, then buzz, to make an almost-smooth purée. Beat in the egg yolks, reserving the whites for later use.
3.
Meanwhile, combine the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, paprika, sugar, cinnamon, and salt in a large bowl.
4.
Stir the corn mixture into the dry ingredients. Then add the remaining cup of whole kernel corn, the scallions, aniseed, raisins, and half the cheese. Combine well.
5.
Beat the 3 reserved egg whites with the cream of tartar in a large bowl until the egg whites are stiff and glossy, but not dry. Gently fold them into the corn mixture, and transfer
the batter to the prepared pan. Sprinkle with the remaining cheese.
6.
Bake the humitas until it is golden brown, fragrant, firmed, and puffed, 25 to 30 minutes.
Baking the humitas in miniature pumpkin cups makes for a delightful presentation and gives the humitas a lovely edge of sweet cooked pumpkin; you scoop a bit of the pumpkin up with each bite of pudding.
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Slice the tops off 8 small pie pumpkins or the tiny variety called “Munchkins.” Then dig out all seeds and loose fibers. Steam the pumpkins, cut side down, over boiling water for 3 to 5 minutes—just long enough to warm and very slightly soften the pumpkin flesh. Remove the pumpkins from the steamer, and sprinkle the interior of each lightly with salt and freshly ground pepper. Set aside.
Prepare the humitas mixture as given, but instead of placing it in the pan, divide it among the pumpkins, sprinkling a bit of the cheese atop each (bake any extra batter in a ramekin). Place the filled pumpkins in an oiled rimmed baking sheet and bake until the filling is firmed, puffed, and golden and the pumpkin is lightly brown and can be pierced with a fork with a slight effort, 35 to 45 minutes.
“It had always been a pleasure to him to work in the corn, to help make the green shafts shoot up, and contrast their deep, full green with the harsh faded desert. … When the stalks were waist high, he took her to the field … a soft breeze made the leaves swing and whisper. He showed her … the individual hills, the slender plants and their promise …”
—O
LIVER
L
A
F
ARGE
,
Laughing Boy
S
ERVES
6
TO
8
This is the Mexican version of the humitas recipe on
page 94
, and you can see the colonial Spanish influence even more clearly in the use of all the dairy products: both soft and hard cheeses, and buttermilk, which adds an especially pleasing, savory quality.
Try a scoop of this as the centerpiece of a vegetable plate, with a bit of salsa or green or red chile sauce spooned over the top.
Vegetable oil cooking spray
3 cups corn kernels (either cut from about 6 ears of fresh corn, see Shuck and Jive,
page 49
; or frozen kernels, measured and thawed)
4 ounces crumbled fresh goat cheese, or Neufchâtel or cream cheese, at room temperature
1¼ cups buttermilk
3 eggs
1 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon cinnamon, preferably canela (see Pantry,
page 348
)
3 tablespoons melted butter
4 to 6 scallions, white and 1 inch of green, diced
⅓ cup chopped fresh roasted poblanos or well-drained canned chopped green chiles
1 to 1½ cups (4 to 6 ounces) grated Monterey Jack or Cheddar cheese
1.
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Spray a 1½-quart baking dish with oil.
2.
Combine 1½ cups of the corn, the goat cheese or Neufchâtel or cream cheese, and ¼ cup of the buttermilk in a food processor, and pulse-chop to a slightly textured purée. Whisk in the remaining 1 cup buttermilk and the eggs, beating well. Set aside.
3.
Combine the cornmeal, sugar, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon in a large bowl.
4.
Pour the puréed corn mixture into the dry mixture, combining until well blended. Stir in the melted butter, scallions, poblanos, Monterey Jack or Cheddar cheese, and the remaining 1½ cups whole kernel corn.
5.
Transfer the batter to the prepared baking dish. Bake the pudding until it is light golden brown and just barely firm, 50 to 55 minutes.
H
UMITAS IN
P
ERU
,
VIA
S
OUTHERN
C
ALIFORNIA
Carmen Sanchez’s humitas are nothing like the ones on
page 94
. Hers are Peruvian: more like tamales, steamed in neatly wrapped green corn husks and made with slightly stale corn.
Carmen, a friend of my friend Suzanne Wickham-Beaird, once explained to me that there are no cornbreads as such in Peru, but humitas are eaten often. What you do is husk ears of corn, saving the husks, then cut the kernels off. But the corn should be a bit older, “more stale.” Carmen demonstrated with her hands slicing off the kernels, then made a face. “If it spits juice at you, it’s too juicy.” You allot the kernels of three ears of corn per person, and you put them in the blender with “poquito leche,” a tiny bit of milk, and process to make a slightly grainy mix, still a bit sticky. No eggs, no cornmeal, no masa. You transfer the mixture to a bowl. Now, if you want sweet humitas, you add a little light brown sugar, a few dashes of cinnamon, and a handful of raisins. If, on the other hand, you want salty, you add grated queso, or maybe a little shredded cooked chicken.
You lay out your corn husks, pulling a thin strip of husk from one end to act as a ribbon. Then, you make a mound of humitas dough on the husk, fold the short sides over, roll it up the long way, and tie it with the strip of husk.
The finished humitas then cook in the top of an oiled double boiler covered, for 20 to 25 minutes, or until hot and cooked through.
Though travelers might not speak the same language, cooks always do.
A
LL
A
BOUT
A
REPAS
Arepas (pronounced ah-RAY-pahs) are to parts of Latin America, particularly Colombia and Venezuela, the basic, go-with-anything starch that supports, and sometimes serves as, almost every meal. Their origins go way, way back: They were to the Indians of Colombia and Venezuela what corn tortillas were to the Aztecs. And, again like tortillas, since their origins were as staple/survival food, for many centuries they were looked down on as the food of the poor. Fortunately they have been rediscovered, today, as comforting, delicious, and satisfying, for anyone and everyone.
The corn cakes, made from yellow or white corn, are about a half-inch thick, firm and slightly crisp on the outside, and moist within. A young man of fourteen at the time, Nathan Harwood, for whom arepas were a brand new experience, probably described their excellent flavor and texture with greatest accuracy: “The outside, the crisp part, tastes kind of like popcorn, and the inside, the moist part, is sort of like really good, slightly firm cream of wheat.” (Nathan, his brother, Mark, his mom, Alice, and I almost polished off a double batch of arepas, which would be about sixteen to eighteen, in one sitting.)
Arepas are made from masarepa (sometimes called
arepa harina
). Masarepa is not your plain old regular cornmeal. It begins with whole kernels of hard flint corn, which, instead of just being ground (this would yield your conventional cornmeal) are
cooked,
soaked overnight, and then ground. That precooked, soaked, ground corn, if you were making your arepas by the ultimate from-scratch method, would be in itself the masarepa dough. Instead, we’re going straight to the easy way, the way Leyla Torres taught me, on a beautiful late summer Vermont day.
“Mama packed a picnic lunch of roast chicken, corn cakes, tangerines, lemonade, and plates together with cups and paper napkins. Grandma Felisa made her delicious salsa picante and placed it in the picnic basket. … Papa put the map in the car and checked to make sure there was enough gas. Fernando gathered up his paper and crayons so he could draw during the trip; and his younger sister, Flora, brought her pull-toy bear …”
—L
EYLA
T
ORRES
,
The Kite Festival
M
AKES ABOUT
8
AREPAS
Leyla’s arepa recipe is traditional, but one of her cooking methods—oven-broiling, on a small rack set atop the oven rack—is not. It’s a genius touch; it allows air to circulate all around the arepas, drying them out slightly (desirably so) and giving them a pleasantly crunchy exterior.
The recipe calls for masarepa flour, either white or yellow. Goya, one of the most widely distributed Hispanic food brands in America, makes it; you’ll find it in any supermarket that serves a population with a strong Latino component, or at smaller Hispanic groceries. Please don’t try substituting conventional cornmeal; it won’t work here. (By the way, traditional arepas, as eaten in Colombia and Venezuela, are unsalted, possibly because they’re usually eaten with salty, spicy food. But in North America, they are nearly always made with salt and/or cheese added to the dough. Just omit the salt if you prefer.)
See
page 101
for serving suggestions and accompaniments.
2 cups masarepa flour, yellow or white
3 cups water, at room temperature or slightly warm
1 to 2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
Butter, mild vegetable oil, or vegetable oil cooking spray, for greasing the metal rack
1.
Combine the masarepa, water, and salt in a large bowl, mixing well to incorporate everything into a nice dough. Give a couple of kneads to break up any lumps of unmixed dry
ingredients. Cover the bowl and let it stand for 5 minutes.
2.
Place an oven rack on the next to last rung of the oven closest to the broiling element and preheat the oven to Broil.
3.
Using your hands, scoop out about ½ cup of dough, which will have a consistency much like Play-Doh. Shape the dough into patties, about 4 inches across and ½ inch thick. (If you have kids in the house, this is an activity they can easily participate in.) Try to make the arepas the same thickness throughout, not sloping down toward the edges.
4.
Lightly coat a metal rack, smaller in dimension than the oven rack (like the kind you might cool cookies on), with butter or oil. Place the arepas on this rack, and place the whole shebang in the preheated oven on the rack you positioned in step 2. Let 8 to 10 minutes pass, then remove the rack and check the tops of the arepas. They should feel crunchy and firm to the touch and should come off the rack easily. If they’re ready, flip the cakes over, then return them, still on their smaller rack, to the oven, giving the second side another 8 to 10 minutes.
5.
Serve, hot and golden, as soon as possible.
When cooking outdoors, give your arepas a smoky taste by grilling them once the grill is good and hot. Cook them over indirect lower heat, on a greased rack. Allow 7 to 8 minutes per side, testing for doneness by the same criteria as with the oven-baked ones.
Leyla often adds a tablespoon of butter or oil to the dough. This adds a delicious flavor, aids crispness and browning, and prevents sticking.