Polenta
If there is one thing that I’ve gained from all that living life has lost me it’s the wisdom to know with absolute certainty that there is nothing in life that can be known with absolute certainty.
That this is an inescapable truth for all mankind becomes apparent when I consider the overuse of this sentiments modern colloquialism which is; vulgar but simply put: shit happens.
Shit happens. Simple shit. Complicated shit. Big shit and small shit….
The car to get to work won’t start. The factory shut down there is no work to get to. No matter what happens in life: life cost too much money when shit happens. Where the line is drawn between life costing too much money (shit is happening) or just enough (shit isn’t happening) I do not know. It seems to me that in modern times life cost too much money even if shit hasn’t happened. But in my mind this is the fraud of the times we live in – does it really make sense that life will cost so much whether shit has happened or not?
If there is even a line anymore between too much cost or just enough it’s irrelevant to me; either way I’m about to cross it. I’ll be unemployed soon and whilst on the one hand I am nervous about it on the other I’m excited. I am looking forward to something very simple and this simplicity is a hot breakfast I’ve rarely been able to enjoy over the years. To enjoy not being a truck driver – and as my first small step away from the modern world – I’ll buy a five pound bag of yellow cornmeal for about three bucks. For another three bucks I’ll get a pound of butter and I’ll splurge by spending a third three bucks on a small jar of molasses. These things will cost me less than ten bucks altogether and it will give me a hot breakfast once I’m off the truck for the cost of around thirty cents a day.
The name for this breakfast I’ll cook in modern times is called Polenta. How cornmeal mush became considered Italian cuisine I do not know; Zea Mays (Corn) was not known to Italy until the discovery of the America’s.
By whichever name my grandmother would (and so I) make it like this: measure two cups cold water in a liquid measuring cup. Add one and a half cups of this cold water to a small pot (like 2 qts). Mix one third cup yellow cornmeal in the remaining one half cup cold water. Set the small pot on high until the water begins to boil. Stir in the cornmeal/water mixture, let boil again, then immediately reduce temperature setting to low (one or two on my stove) and stir until boil is reduced to a simmer. Now add one tablespoon of butter.
Simmer for a minimum of seven minutes; longer if you want it thicker. It will not burn if you added the butter.
Butter is the secret to life I think.
Pour from pot into bowl. A bowl of Polenta accompanied with a dash of real cream in a ceramic coffee cup: the simplest favorite breakfast of mine. I do embellish sometimes by adding a spoonful of the molasses if I’m in the mood for something sweet.
Whichever way I’ll no doubt when the day comes be eating my breakfast content. As even though I won’t know it there just might be somebody somewhere who has read this and they also will someday decide that shit happens too often.
They’ll too take the first step away from the modern world.
Of this I’ll be almost certain.
Step 1
Water is boiling when large bubbles rise rapidly to the top of the water. I mix the 1/3 cup cornmeal into the ½ cup cold water in a glass measuring cup to avoid having to wash the extra mixing bowl.
Step 2
After adding cornmeal/water mixture in to boiling water it will only take a minute or two before beginning to boil again. Reduce heat to low and stir down to a simmer: it is simmering when the very large bubbles go away and only little bubbles keep coming back. Add a tablespoon of butter. A pound of butter comes in four bars: each of these four bars have eight tablespoons. You can use a sharp knife to cut down at the first line marked on the side of the bar to remove one tablespoon of butter.
Step 3
It is very important that you let it simmer for a minimum of seven minutes: this allows the corn to rehydrate. I usually jump in the shower at this point and end up simmering for about fifteen minutes. Any kind of dried grain – including all cereal grains – is one of the worst things for a human being to eat. Put that in the back of your mind for the next time you’re in the supermarket.