The Cornbread Gospels (20 page)

Vegetable oil cooking spray

Cornmeal, for dusting the molds

3 cups unbleached white flour

2 tablespoons baking powder

1¼ teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons sugar

3 cups ground fresh mealies (see
Note
)

¼ to ½ cup cold water

1.
Have ready the mold(s), heat-proof trivet, and cooking vessel of your choice (see Steam On,
pages 64
–
66
). Wash and dry the molds well, spray the insides thoroughly with oil, and dust the insides with cornmeal. Also have at hand some foil, and kitchen string or rubber bands to secure the foil to the top of the mold(s).

2.
Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Stir or whisk together well. Whisk together the sugar and ground corn in a separate bowl.

3.
Combine the two mixtures, stirring just enough to moisten the dry ingredients. Dribble in the water, 2 tablespoons at a time to make a fairly stiff batter, but avoid overbeating.

4.
Scrape the batter into the prepared mold(s), filling each about two thirds of the way full.

5.
Tear off a piece of foil that is twice as large as the mouth of a mold. Fold it in half, and spray one side with oil. Place it oiled-side down on top of the mold, puffing it up a bit to allow for the bread’s expansion as it steams. Repeat with any remaining molds.

6.
Secure each piece of foil tightly with kitchen string or a rubber band. Place the trivet or equivalent in the cooking vessel. Place the mold(s) on top of the trivet.

7.
Pour enough boiling water into the cooking vessel to come halfway up the sides of the mold(s). Secure the lid of the vessel and steam the bread according to the directions for the particular cooking vessel you are using.

8.
Cook the bread for the length of time suggested, then test the bread with a long skewer: you want to get way down deep into the bread’s interior. When done, the middle of the bread is moist, but not sticky. Visible wet batter means the bread should steam longer. If it’s wet, keep steaming patiently, checking about every 20 minutes until the moist-but-not-sticky point is reached.

9.
When the bread is done, remove it from the cooking vessel, and let it cool in the mold(s), uncovered, on a rack, for at least 45 minutes. Reverse the bread out of the mold(s)—it should come out quite easily—slice it, and serve.

N
OTE
:
To make the ground mealies, cut the kernels from 5 to 6 ears of fresh corn (see Shuck and Jive,
page 49
) and buzz them in the processor to make a not-quite-smooth, very liquid purée. You’ll need 2 cups of this purée for the recipe above. Any extra? Swirl it into unsweetened yogurt, thin with a little vegetable stock, add a few diced scallions and a little fresh dill, and you have a simply lovely cold soup. Caveat: Do NOT substitute canned creamed corn here; this is the one case where only fresh will do.

M
AKES
12
MUFFINS

Macaw Muffins
? Are these treats “for the birds”? Yes and no. Anyone who’s ever purchased a bag of wild bird food knows that plenty of birds—including mourning doves, sparrows, and blackbirds—enjoy cracked corn. But some birds also adore corn
bread.
We’re not just talking about scattering some leftover cornbread crumbs out on the lawn, but of cornbread baked specifically for parrots and their kin, notoriously picky eaters. After learning about the avian-cornbread connection and the fruit-and-carrot-studded corn muffins tropical birds love, I got to thinking that surely some form of this combination was one any human could love as well. Bingo! Moist and golden, sweet but not too much so, this cheering muffin is a delightful breakfast or snack, or just right with a bowl of soup for lunch. Though it’ll please all human comers, I imagine it will especially (both because of the peanut butter, and because of the parrot connection) tickle any small humans in your family.

Now, a large, close-up avian creature is the last thing my complex, peripatetic life needs (especially given the huge particular needs of these gorgeous birds). But I admire them so. Always have.

So here is a Macaw Muffin for you, followed by one for your bird. While you
could
eat theirs and they
could
eat yours, you’ll both be happier with the one prepared with your species in mind. This way, it’ll be happy feasting for both of you.

After all, why should cornbread’s global appeal be limited to just
homo sapiens
?

Vegetable oil cooking spray

¾ cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal

¼ cup oatmeal (rolled oats) or quinoa flakes

½ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon baking powder

2 eggs

3 tablespoons mild vegetable oil (preferably peanut, to back up the peanut butter flavor)

¼ cup peanut butter

3 tablespoons sugar

¾ cup plain soy milk

1 carrot, peeled and finely diced

1 apple, skin on, finely diced

½ cup raisins or currants

1.
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Spray a 12-cup muffin tin with oil, or line with muffin papers.

2.
Combine the flour, cornmeal, oatmeal or quinoa flakes, salt, and baking powder in a large bowl, stirring well. Set aside.

3.
In a blender or food processor, buzz together the eggs, oil, and peanut butter until smooth. Add the sugar, and, with the machine running, add the soy milk. Scrape the sides of the processor if necessary to get off the last bits of peanut butter.

4.
Stir the peanut butter mixture into the flour mixture, until just barely combined.

5.
Gently stir in the carrot, apple, and raisins or currants. Spoon into the prepared muffin tins.

6.
Bake until golden brown, 20 to 22 minutes. Serve warm.

M
AKES
12
MUFFINS

Here’s the thing:
You’re a parrot.
You like to exercise your beak by gnawing on hard things. You dislike commercial parrot pellets. Green vegetables? Sure, they’re good for you, but you don’t always like them, either. Seeds? Great, but your owner insists they’re an
occasional treat. But it’s true: You
do
feel peppier and calmer, and your feathers are shinier, when your diet is varied, seeds are limited, and fresh vegetables, fruit, and other healthy things are added to what you eat. Too, you love colorful food, the brighter the better. Lastly, you’re wild about cornbread.

You have trained your owner to follow the recipe below, making a big batch, giving you some, freezing the rest, then warming up a bit each day for you.

This pleases you so much that you
may
refrain from biting her earrings or his watch.

Vegetable oil cooking spray

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal

¼ cup oatmeal (rolled oats) or quinoa flakes

¼ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon baking powder

3 eggs,
with shells left on

3 tablespoons mild vegetable oil or wheat germ oil

¼ cup peanut butter

1 tablespoon sugar

⅓ cup plain soy milk

1 apple, skin on, finely diced

½ cup raisins or currants

1 carrot, grated or finely diced

1 stalk celery, chopped

½ cup chopped red bell pepper

½ cup fresh spinach, parsley, or broccoli, finely chopped

½ cup frozen peas, rinsed in a strainer under hot water to thaw

½ cup frozen corn kernels, rinsed in a strainer under hot water to thaw

1.
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Spray very well a 12-cup muffin tin with oil, or line with muffin papers.

2.
Combine the flour, cornmeal, oatmeal (or quinoa flakes), salt, and baking powder in a large bowl, stirring well. Set aside.

3.
Rinse the eggs in their shells. In a food processor, buzz together the eggs
(with shells)
, oil, and peanut butter. You want the shells wholly pulverized. Add the sugar and, with the machine running, the soy milk.

4.
Stir the peanut butter mixture into the dry mixture, until just barely combined.

5.
Gently fold in the fruits and vegetables. There will be less batter than usual, but enough to hold the mixture together. Spoon into the prepared muffin tin.

6.
Bake until golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature (never extremely hot or cold) to macaws, parrots, cockatoos, or other tropical birds. Some owners moisten them with a bit of warm water before serving.

• • • • • • • • • •

Cornbread and cornmeal-based babycakes—smaller cornbreads, such as muffins—are almost, but not quite, interchangeable. Because more of a small corn cake’s exterior is exposed to direct heat, most are slightly crustier and usually hold together a bit better than their larger counterparts. Being discrete individual cakes (with the charm diminutive versions of full-grown anything always have), they are also less prone to crumble when being lifted to plate. They can be passed in a basket more successfully (that is, with less scattering of crumbs) than wedges
of even the most exemplary cornbreads: a better choice any time you want fewer crumbs on the floor, the table, or the bottom of the basket.

Muffins are thus just a little dressier than their heftier big-pan kin. They bake more quickly than whole cornbreads, and, especially in their less-fancy nonsweet forms, go beautifully with almost anything.

In their sweet forms, muffins are like small cakes. And they’re excellent made with cornmeal, a pleasing discovery as I did kitchen tinkering in the course of this book (previously my corn muffins had leaned toward spicy and savory). The goodness of sweet muffins, of many varieties made with all or part cornmeal instead of straight wheat flour, is one of the best surprises here.

All sweet muffins exist for pleasure more than sustenance. I often choose them as part of a breakfast or brunch I want to mark as celebratory: either having people over, or luxuriating in a lazy Sunday morning with weekend-in-the-country friends and houseguests who already
are
over. Or, I might want to mark a holiday or season with what I place on the table and in the muffin: thus August’s fresh blueberry corn muffins give way to September and October’s pumpkin-apple corn muffins, to be followed by November-December’s cranberry-orange corn muffins. All are quick to make and honor the joy and wonder of being on this cyclical, blueberry-to-pumpkin, apple-to-cranberry spinning earth all together. To celebrate
right now
, today, with every bite, each crumb, every kiss, each muffin.

Corn gems were originally a leavened-by-eggs-only early American–style muffin-cake heavy and dense with lots of dried fruits and nuts. Nowadays gems are still leavened wholly or partly with beaten egg whites rather than baking powder or baking soda. They are thus more moist, with a more finely grained but slightly denser texture. The method of mixing them is quite different from that of a typical muffin, and the results are outstanding.

Cornsticks are another much-loved miniature cornbread. The cornbread or muffin batter is baked in a cornstick pan—a heavy cast-iron mold shaped like miniature ears of corn. Because a greater surface area is exposed to both the cast iron and the direct air of the oven, the adorable little cornsticks have an exceptional crunch and golden-brown color. While any cornbread batter can be baked in them, it’s easy for batters to stick because the molds have so much detail, so the pans have to be very, very, very well greased, or the batter itself has to be on the rich (buttery or oily) side, or both. This chapter includes a recipe for a rich cornstick batter, but if you grease the pan well, you can use any kind you like. (Cornstick pans are made in America by Lodge Cast Iron in South Pittsburg, Tennessee—not coincidentally, home of the National Cornbread Festival. Most hardware and cookware stores carry cornstick pans, including Sur La Table—
www.surlatable.com
—and
www.pans.com
.)