Read The Cornbread Gospels Online
Authors: Crescent Dragonwagon
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How did the father of our country start his day? According to Nelly Custis, Martha Washington’s youngest granddaughter, Washington “… rose before sunrise, always wrote or read until seven in summer or half past seven in winter. His breakfast was then ready—he ate three small mush cakes (Indian meal) swimming in butter and honey, drank three cups of tea without cream. …” She followed with a recipe for corn cakes, presumably like the ones served at Mount Vernon during her childhood. This is my adaptation. The cornmeal’s grit gives the pancakes heartiness, but their thin, not-quite-lacy texture is delicate. If you serve them “swimming in butter and honey,” you might, unlike George, find it hard to stop at three small ones.
Start these the night before.
2 cups stone-ground white cornmeal
1½ to 2 cups lukewarm water
1 package active dry yeast
½ teaspoon salt
1 large egg
Mild vegetable oil, for greasing the griddle
Optional accompaniments: honey and butter
1.
The evening before you plan on breakfasting on these, combine 1 cup of the cornmeal, 1½ cups of the lukewarm water, and the yeast in a medium-size nonreactive bowl. Whisk well; the mixture will be thin. Cover the bowl tightly and let sit out overnight in a warm place.
2.
The next morning, whisk in the remaining 1 cup cornmeal, the salt, and the egg. Re-cover the bowl and let it stand for 15 to 20 minutes (this allows the just-added cornmeal to absorb some of the liquid and soften somewhat).
3.
Check the consistency; you want it similar to a thin pancake batter, neither nearly liquid, nor as thick as heavy cream. You might need to add a little more lukewarm water to achieve this.
4.
Start heating a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet or griddle (see
pages 16
–
17
) over medium-high heat. Moisten a paper towel with vegetable oil. Once the skillet is good and hot, rub its interior quickly but thoroughly using the oiled paper towel.
5.
Give the batter a good stir and, using a ladle, pour 3 or 4 thin, 3-inch pancakes onto the hot skillet. The batter will spread out fairly thin, and if it doesn’t sizzle a little as you pour it out, the skillet isn’t hot enough. If it sizzles a lot, however, you may need to lower the heat just a little.
6.
Watch closely. Almost immediately you’ll see little bubbles appear throughout. When the top surface is completely dry and the edges are curling, flip one cake. It should be pleasantly golden brown, nicely mottled, neither pale nor too dark. Allow 50 to 70 seconds for the first side (once you’ve got your skillet at the right temp) and 30 to 50 on the second side. Repeat with the remaining cakes and batter. (You’ll want to stir the batter occasionally, as it tends to separate.) Serve with honey and butter, if you wish.
If you happen to have some sourdough starter around, omit the instant dry yeast and use 3 tablespoons of starter, stirring it in the night before at the point at which you would have used the yeast.
W
ELL
, T
HEY
A
RE
C
ALLED
H
OTCAKES
Pancakes are almost, but not quite, a no-brainer. The trick is that your skillet or griddle must be hot enough, but not too hot. How do you know if it’s there? Drop enough batter for 1 pancake onto the heated surface and listen closely; it should hiss just a little as the batter makes contact with the pan. If it’s not hot enough yet, wait a little longer and try again. Even experienced pancake makers will tell you they often have to throw out the first couple of cakes (or nibble these slightly underdone or overdone but still pretty good imperfect ones) to get the heat just right. But when you follow the general guidelines above, as well as follow the visual and time cues given in each recipe, you’ll get it down pretty quickly. Also, each batter is slightly different. When the cakes are done—again, look to individual recipes for clues—flip them over. Flip one over to start, taking note of its degree of doneness (brown, firm), under-doneness (pale, drippy, hard to turn), or overdoneness (too dark) and adjust the heat and time accordingly. The second side is never as pretty as the first, but it cooks more quickly.
“The bread business is as follows—if you wish to make 2½ quarts of flour up—take at night one quart of flour, five table spoonfuls of yeast & as much lukewarm water as will make it the consistency of pancake batter, mix it in a large stone pot & set it near a warm hearth (or a moderate fire) make it at candlelight & let it remain until the next morning then add the remaining quart & a half by degrees with a spoon—when well mixed let it stand 15 or 20 minutes & then bake it—of this dough in the morning, beat up a white & half of the yolk of an egg—add as much lukewarm water as will make it like pancake batter, drop a spoonful at a time on a hoe or griddle (as we say in the South)—When done on one side turn the other—the griddle must be rubbed in the first instance with a piece of beef suet or the fat of cold corned beef.”
—N
ELLY
C
USTIS
L
EWIS
,
Martha Washington’s granddaughter, in a letter to her friend, Elizabeth Bordley Gibson, January 7, 1821 (note that “flour” refers to cornmeal)
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George Washington and Edmund George Shank, aka Ned, my late and beloved husband—pancake guys both. This simple, basic whole-grain and buttermilk pancake, unembellished and straightforward, was one stop on Ned’s Search for the Perfect Pancake. They were our joint favorite for the last five or six years of our shared journey. These days, when I eat them alone I try to enjoy them doubly, on Ned’s behalf, and when I eat them with others, I think about loving and being loved and all the forms this takes over a lifetime. I appreciate those I love now all the more, knowing the temporal nature of all life’s shared feasts. And in either case, or sometimes when I’m not thinking about anything in particular, I just plain enjoy these fine cakes.
If you don’t have all the flours listed, feel free to substitute. The cornmeal is essential, but the ½ cup whole wheat pastry flour plus ¼ cup each unbleached white and buckwheat flours (adding up to 1 cup total) can be almost any flour combination. You may certainly use all unbleached or all whole wheat for the flour, or mix and match like crazy: I have substituted spelt flour, wild rice flour, barley flour, and rye flour for all or part of the suggested flours, and all were very good.
Serve these with Warm Maple-Apple Sauté (
recipe follows
), or virtually any other fruit sauce or topping you like.
½ cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal
½ cup whole wheat pastry flour
¼ cup unbleached white flour
¼ cup buckwheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 eggs
2 cups buttermilk
2 tablespoons butter, melted
Vegetable oil cooking spray (optional)
Warm Maple-Apple Sauté (
recipe follows
; optional), for serving
1.
Stirring well, combine the cornmeal, flours, salt, and baking soda in a medium bowl.
2.
Beat the eggs in another medium bowl, then whisk in the buttermilk and melted butter.
3.
Stir the two mixtures together, just enough to combine the wet and dry (be careful not to overbeat). Don’t worry about a few lumps, as long as there are no patches of unmoistened flour.
4.
Over medium-high heat, heat a skillet or griddle. If it is nonstick, you need add no oil (though I often use just a bit); if it is conventional, give it a good spray of vegetable oil. When the skillet is good and hot, lower the heat slightly to medium and spoon the batter onto it, using 2 to 3 tablespoonfuls batter per pancake. If the skillet is hot enough, the pancake batter will sizzle slightly as it makes contact with the pan surface. Cook the pancakes until bubbles that remain intact appear around the edges, just over 1 minute. Flip the pancakes and cook the second side for about 50 seconds. Serve, hot, from the griddle, or keep warm in a low (250°F) oven for a few minutes until ready to serve.
Try these cakes at supper, as supper—with stir-fried tamari’d vegetables and a little grated cheese between each pancake in the stack. Sounds weird, but it’s a great Sunday-evening-at-home kind of dinner, exuding down-home comfort.
“Time passing and corn growing cannot be seen; one can notice only that the moon has become so much older, the corn so much higher.”
—O
LIVER
L
A
F
ARGE
,
Laughing Boy
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AKES ABOUT
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TO
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UPS
This apple sauté would make any slightly sweet corn cake happy. Try it piled on Ned and Crescent’s Favorite Multigrain Pancakes or any of the pancakes in this chapter; finish it with a dollop of really good plain yogurt.
This is a great place to try some of the splendidly flavored heirloom apples now coming into most farmers’ markets. Look for one that is spicy-sweet-tart, juicy, and crisp without being hard. In almost all cases, this crispness turns meltingly soft when cooked. (Granny Smiths, the exception to the rule, do not soften; don’t use them here.) McIntoshes are one premier New England apple; they don’t keep well, though, so be sure to get new-crop local fall Macs. Query the sellers at your local farmstand about the qualities of whichever varieties are offered. Greenings are superb, as are Ginger-Golds, Sheep’s Nose, and Cortlands. Make your choice, then make your sauté.
Vegetable oil cooking spray
1 tablespoon butter
5 to 6 apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons brown sugar
3 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1 tablespoon Calvados (apple brandy; optional)
1.
Spray a large skillet with oil. Place over medium heat and add the butter.
2.
When the butter melts and sizzles, add the sliced apples, tossing at once to coat the apples with the fat. Raise the heat slightly and continue to cook, stirring often, until the apples begin to grow translucent and tender, 4 to 5 minutes (if some of the apples brown slightly, so much the better). Sprinkle the cinnamon over them, and stir for about 30 seconds more.
3.
Add the brown sugar, maple syrup, and Calvados if using. Heat through, and serve.