Custard-filled Cornbread

Have you ever tried the custard-filled cornbread recipe from The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham?  Whether you love or hate cornbread, you need to try this recipe!  Custard-filled cornbread is one of those rare genius recipes that magically exceed the sum of its ingredients.  

I first stumbled upon this recipe on page 251 in Molly Wizenberg’s book, A Homemade Life.  I immediately whipped up a batch and My Pirate who hates cornbread, giggled after the first bite.  He giggled.  Then, I tested it on my marching band booster friends and ended up being hugged, kissed, and proposed to.  So, I carefully slid the recipe into my favorite recipes binder with the word amazing marked in the corner.

I recently whipped up another batch of this recipe to pair with the red lentil soup.  I used Red Mill medium grit cornmeal and the bigger grits sunk down to the bottom of the pan creating a crusty bottom that only accentuated the creamy custard center of the bread.  I melted butter on top it and I made a fatal mistake; I absentmindedly handed Barnaby, my Great Dane, a small bite.  His eyes widened and he immediately laid down and nudged me for another bite.  

The next morning, I heated up a slice of the cornbread and topped it with my best maple syrup for breakfast.  After breakfast, I let Barnaby lick the crumbs off my plate.  As I rinsed my dish, I looked behind me just in time to see Barnaby twist his muzzle in the refrigerator door seal and carefully clasp the door with his teeth.  The refrigerator door swung open and Barnaby bathed in the light and heard the humming choir before he leaned in towards the custard-filled cornbread.  I sung out in a panicked voice, “Let’s go get a stick outside,” as I quickly shut the door and did my best to distract him.   

Only to find him later in the afternoon, sitting in front of the open fridge again, smiling at the possibilities.  We compromised and I sprinkled some cornbread on his meals for the next couple of days.  His cornbread craving satisfied, he left the fridge door closed.

Custard-filled Corn bread

from A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg and originally from The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham 

3 T. unsalted butter
1 cup flour
¾ cup yellow cornmeal, preferably medium ground
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 large eggs
3 T. sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 cups whole milk
1 ½ T. distilled vinegar
1 cup heavy cream--I use 3/4 cup
Pure maple syrup, for serving

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  

Butter an 8 inch square or 9 inch round pan, then place it in the heated oven  while you make the batter.  

Melt the butter then set aside to cool.

Combine the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl and whisk together. 

Whisk together the butter and the eggs until they're well combined.  Add the sugar, salt, milk and vinegar.  Whisk together.  Then whisking constantly, add flour mixture and whisk until smooth.  

Pull the heated pan out of the oven and pour in the batter.  Then carefully add the cup of cream in the center of the pan of batter.  Do not stir.  Slid the pan into the oven.  Bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour.  Serve warm, with butter and maple syrup.

Yield:  6 to 8 servings

Ready for Soup

A windstorm is blowing in and the fir cones dropping on our new pergola roof sound like bombs going off.  The Assistant, Sadie, is hiding in the bathtub and I’m the idiot sitting out under the pergola listening to the breeze blow through the fir trees and the crows angrily complain.  So far, we’ve only seen a hint of the promised 60 mph wind gusts.  I love a good storm, but we haven’t attached our pergola to the patio yet.  I’m crossing my fingers for no lift off.

This week has been a long succession of rainstorms.  We received almost two inches of rain in 24 hours, which my garden happily soaked up.  I’m seeing very little autumn coloring in my tree leaves before they drop off in apparent relief.  Waiting for a storm is fun.  I’ve gathered up candles and a flashlight just in case we lose power.  And we still have some soup in the fridge. 

We’ve been living off a batch of Melissa Clark’s, Red Lentil Soup with Lemon.  It is a lovely soup perfect for warming your soul and elegantly feeding last minute guests.  

Red Lentil Soup with Lemon

I love reading Melissa Clark’s cookbooks.  She shares a story with each recipe and tells you how to successfully make a dish including all her tricks and techniques.  She doesn’t abandon you mid-step.

Red Lentil Soup with Lemon has sustained me through celebrations and the flu.  Unlike the muddy tasting lentil soups of my childhood, this recipe has layers of flavor based on the umami foundation of the caramelized tomato paste with cumin.  The final squeeze of lemon brightens the warm spicy flavors and I only partially puree my soup with an immersion blender so that I can still find chunks of carrot on my spoon.  To serve it, I pour a quick drizzle of oil across the top of the soup bowl followed by a sprinkle of cayenne pepper and possibly a few pinches of goat cheese.  On the side, I offer grilled cheese, buttered crostini, homemade crackers, or custard filled cornbread.  It’s your call.

The winds are kicking up and I’m back inside.  A branch just fell on top of the pergola roof with a shudder and Barnaby jumped on my lap/laptop.  We’re hunkered down and ready for a bowl of soup.  Please cross your fingers that my pergola roof doesn’t fly away!

Red Lentil Soup with Lemon
 by Melissa Clark

• 4 Tbsp. olive oil, plus additional good oil for drizzling
• 2 large yellow onions, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled
• 2 Tbsp. tomato paste
• 2 tsp. ground cumin
• ½ tsp. kosher salt, or more to taste
• A few grinds of freshly ground black pepper
• Pinch of cayenne or Aleppo pepper, or more to taste
• 2 quarts chicken or vegetable broth
• 2 cups water
• 2 cups red lentils, picked through for stones and debris
• 2 large carrots, peeled and diced
• Juice of 1 lemon, or more to taste
• 1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Warm the olive oil in a soup pot over medium-high heat with the garlic cloves until the oil shimmers.  Remove the garlic cloves.  Then add the onions and sauté them until they are golden.  Add the tomato paste, cumin, salt, pepper and cayenne, and cook stirring constantly for 2 minutes or until the mixture deepens in color.  Add the broth, water, lentils, and carrots.  Simmer for 30 minutes or until the lentils and carrots are soft.  Taste and adjust seasoning. Puree the soup with an immersion blender until roughly half the soup has been pureed.  Stir in the lemon juice. Serve in a soup bowl drizzled with good olive oil and a dusting of cayenne.

Take Stock

This morning, I turned on the heaters for the first time this season.  The dust crackled and burned so I opened the windows to let in the air.  Then, I proceeded to assemble three big pots of chicken stock and left them burbling on the stovetop. The windows are steamed up and Barnaby is sighing beside me as he naps.  The rain is pouring and life is good.  No, make that great!

Fall is when I start cooking up huge batches of stocks and soups to freeze.  Any rain-free moments are spent outside tearing up and maniacally rearranging my garden beds.  My front walkway is still overflowing with new plant acquisitions that visitors get to hopscotch over.  And the cooler weather means that I get to dance around my kitchen in fuzzy socks.

chicken stock

Cooking chicken stock makes a mess.  By the time I’m done filtering the stock and putting it in containers, my kitchen will require a deep clean.  So, I like to make as many batches as I can at once and then freeze it to use all winter long.  I always make sure to freeze some in ice cube trays to add to rice and sautéed dishes. And it usually works, unless My Pirate starts sneaking chicken stock to work in his thermos like he did last winter.  I could barely keep chicken stock in the house.

Over the years, I’ve tried every chicken stock recipe that I encountered until I found the one that was just right.  Alice Waters nails chicken broth in her book, The Art of Simple Food.  I love how she takes the time to go into great detail about broth techniques and ingredients.  Using a whole chicken for the broth feels a bit luxurious, but the results are worth the added expense. Plus, you can cut the chicken breast meat off an hour into cooking.

Chicken Stock

By Alice Waters in The Art of Simple Food

• 1 whole chicken, 3 ½ to 4 pounds
• 1-½ gallons of cold water
• 1 carrot peeled
• 1 onion, peeled and halved--I used leeks from my garden
• 1 head of garlic, cut in half
• 1 celery stock
• Salt
• ½ teaspoon black peppercorns
• 1 bouquet garni of parsley, thyme sprigs, and a large bay leaf   

Place the chicken in a large pot and fill with cold water.  Place the pot over high heat, bring to a boil, and then drop the heat down to medium low.  Skim the foam off the broth with a spoon. 

Then add the remaining ingredients and slowly simmer broth for four to five hours.  I usually cook mine for five hours. Taste and adjust seasonings.  Then serve hot or place it in the fridge to cool. 

A Walk Through The Shire

Come take a walk with me through The Shire. 

Last Sunday, My Pirate and I had the pleasure of tagging along with a group of horticulturists touring the 75 acre preserve, nicknamed The Shire, that renowned architect John Yeon sculpted to feature the views of the Columbia River and Multnomah Falls.  Randy Gragg led the tour filled with gorgeous views and stories.  

I was born and raised 30 minutes away from Multnomah Falls.  I grew up hiking and picnicking along the Columbia Gorge. And yet, I’d never once heard of The Shire directly across the river on the Washington side.  So, I jumped at the chance that garden writer, Kate Bryant, gave us to explore The Shire and see my favorite falls from a new perspective.

The view from the amphitheater of The Shire features Multnomah Falls.

The wind kicked up the thin stream of Multnomah Falls.

Our group gathered on the amphitheater lawn to start the tour.

Kate Bryant introduced Randy Gragg to the group.

As Kate Bryant introduced Randy Gragg to the group, my attention and camera lens kept pulling towards the constantly changing clouds, light, and shadow.  

Clouds enshrouded the hillside behind us.

We walked quietly listening to the sound of leaves blowing through the wind and the occasional roar of a train passing through at full speed.

Looking up

A pier

We climbed up a mossy rock embankment and gazed down at the shimmering view of the pier.  Yeon repaired the stream that moves into The Shire, but beavers regularly build dams on it.

Licorice ferns glow in the October sunshine.  

the cove

pear orchard

We explored a pear orchard planted in the 1880 using Eastern pear stock.  We sampled some of the crunchy artisan pears.

Kate Bryant and Susan Bryant pause to enjoy the pear orchard.

Looking out through The Shire towards Multnomah Falls

The perfect place for a picnic.

We thoroughly enjoyed our tour of The Shire on a moody October afternoon.  Thanks for tagging along on my journey.  

For additional information:

Randy Gragg’s article The Long View in the Portland Monthly Magazine Magazine

http://www.portlandmonthlymag.com/travel-and-outdoors/articles/john-yeon-the-shire-june-2012

To help support The Shire  http://yeoncenter.uoregon.edu/give-now

Feeling Better

A sunflower's final sunset 

Hello readers, you may have noticed my absence around here lately and I want to let you in on what is going on.  I've been living with migraines half of the time since February, but I'm starting to figure out what is triggering them.

My life has been punctuated with migraines since I turned 18.  Relaxing after a busy stressful week led to a shimmering aura followed by a migraine that I would sleep off.  I always counted myself lucky because I grew up watching my Mom suffer through debilitating migraines.  She would quietly weep into a hot pack. My Grandfather treated his migraines by crunching codeine tablets between his teeth and chased them down with orange juice with a splash of whiskey.  I considered myself lucky until this last February.

In February, I started getting migraines that scared me.  Real head bangers with nausea. When I realized that I was living with a migraine at least four days a week, I went to a neurologist and went through the tests only for them to figure out that my migraines are genetic.  Duh.  But, I also needed a pair of reading glasses to prevent eyestrain.  Treatment has helped shorten the duration but not the frequency of the migraines. 

A fellow gardener guided me towards a book, Heal Your Headache by David Buchholz, and it’s the first true relief that I’ve found.  I managed two weeks without a migraine and I’m feeling hopeful.  I’m figuring this out, step by step.

I’ve dialed back my volunteer work and I’m spending more time in my garden.  Sadly, my garden has taken the real brunt of my migraines.  It’s crispy and untended.  But, as I've laid in my bed with a ice pack clutched to my head, I've been planning new garden projects.  I’ve torn the backyard apart, started a project, and it's just starting to take shape.  I’m grateful that the autumn leaf drop is around the corner.  I’m ready for a fresh start.

I have so many pictures, stories, and recipes to share with you!  I’ll keep you in the loop from here on out.  This week, My Pirate is home on stay-cation and we’re finishing up our big backyard patio project.  I’ll share photos as the project progresses.

Here is our backyard project.  We're putting a roof on the pergola tomorrow!