Local in Rhode Island: Italian Rules

I am back in Rhode Island, and some things never change. This past week, our twice-mayor (6 terms in bundles of three)—and twice-convicted/once jailed-- talk show host, and pasta sauce entrepreneur Buddy Cianci announced he will run for another mayoral term. The legislature voted calamari the official state appetizer. Note the themes: food, corruption, Italian.

So for my son’s birthday I made a typical Rhode Island Italian meal. I was going to do the squid, but forgot to get it on my shopping trip, so for appetizers we had some Italian cheeses, some perfect melon and imported San Daniele prosciutto di Parma, and some wild shrimp with an orange-mustard-tarragon sauce. And Americanos for drinks. For the main course, for a special dinner in Rhode Island Italian world you want to start with some giant veal chops from Venda Ravioli (Costantino’s). I cooked them on the grill and served them with a little roasted garlic and sage butter, accompanied by grilled veggies (red peppers, zucchini, yellow crookneck, and radicchio) with reduced balsamic and thyme, and a very Rhode Island jonnycake polenta. A nice Fossacolle Rosso de Montalcino. Had to buy dessert (horrors) because the cooking equipment I’d ordered to make a cake was inadvertently shipped to Arizona. But it was good. 

So I just said that some things never change, but, you know, some do. I am not in Little Compton this summer. I’m on Conanicut Island—Jamestown—in the middle of Narragansett Bay between Newport and the mainland, or as we say here, between West and East Bay. As master of the neither here nor there, the generally at sea, I am perhaps unsurprisingly right at home. It is, after all, almost as old a Rhode Island settlement as Little Compton, and still Newport County. A short sail away.

Rhode Island Jonnycake Pan-fried Polenta

I used Kenyon’s meal for this; you can use any of our RI stoneground white flint cornmeals. You can, of course, serve the cooked polenta soft, with butter and parm, or tomato sauce and/or some sausage and mushrooms. Serves 4.

1 cup RI johnnycake cornmeal

4 cups water, approx.

2 T butter

2 tea salt

Freshly ground pepper

In a 3-qt saucepan (nonstick is useful if you have one), whisk about 1 ½ cups water into the cornmeal, then whisk in the additional 2 ½ c water. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring fairly continuously. It will begin to thicken rather quickly. Be careful not to splatter yourself as it reaches a boil. Stir in the salt, butter, and pepper. Reduce the heat and let it simmer/heave for about 45 minutes; it will have the consistency of mashed potatoes, and pull from the bottom of the pan.

If you plan to pan-fry it, pour the polenta into an ungreased glass pie plate or 8” square pan. Let stand for about ten minutes, then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm—a few hours, or overnight. Cut into wedges, squares, or diamonds, dredge lightly in seasoned flour, and fry in a little olive oil or butter or olive oil until nicely golden. Serve immediately. 

National Indian Pudding Day

Lest it pass you by, I come briefly out of blog hiatus to give a shout out to Indian Pudding.  I knew it had its own day, being from the land of its provenance, but I suspect that you were shamefully unaware. So now you know. Today is National Indian Pudding Day, and if you have never had it, do try. It is one of the many items that uses our wonderful jonnycake cornmeal, and there is a recipe right here on this very blog—omg, posted five years ago—that you can use. If you're not sure which cornmeal to choose, I refer you to this completely scientific comparison.

There is even a story on NPR about it. It says that interest in New England cooking is on the upswing. As usual, I seem to have been ahead of my time (always have problems with timing); guess I should get back to this….but when??

Dairy: Disappearing Delights

To the extent that they have not disappeared altogether—and many have, as a drive through New England or New York State’s back roads will attest—dairy farms that survive today are likely to be part of a cooperative into which they sell their milk, whether to be bottled or made into cheese. And like most food products today, milk has increasingly been produced in a manner to make it highly shelf-stable and hardy under a range of transportation conditions. It is ultrapasteurized and ultrahomogenized, as is the cream that has been separated from it at the time of milking.

So the existence of an independent dairy whose cows are pastured and feed on good stuff is a treasure to be thankful for—and to patronize.  If you find one, they may even let you buy raw milk direct from the farm (it is illegal to bottle and sell it in most states, but you may be able to get some informally). But even if not, a really good dairy will have superior milk, buttermilk, and heavy cream that has a higher percentage of fat than that from a large producer and, if you are lucky, that has been pasteurized to the legal requirement only, and not homogenized at all.

 

Here in Rhode Island, we are lucky to have such cream. It’s from Arruda’s Dairy in Tiverton, and I have written about its virtues before. Heavy cream like this is highly perishable: it is a fresh product, for immediate consumption. Be forewarned, the expiration date means what it says. You may be able to blithely keep commercial heavy cream for months beyond expiration, but if Arruda’s says “June 24^th” it means June 24^th; the next day it will be sour. Don’t push your luck.

This makes the product all the more special than its inherent thick richness already makes it. Somehow, its ephemeral nature—it’s fragile perfection at its peak—and its erratic availability lend a little carpe diem excitement, as well as a little reverence for the simple, to its use and consumption. It whips phenomenally, but even that can feel disrespectful or ungrateful. Pour it on. 

Jonnycake Cake

This is still plain, but more of a cake than a cornbread, suitable for a simple dessert. It is very good. Serves 6-8.

2 eggs

1 ½ c whole milk

¼ cup thick heavy cream

1 T vanilla

5 T unsalted butter, softened

2 RI white jonnycake cornmeal

½ c flour

6 T, generous, sugar

2 T bp

Heavy cream

Berries, apples, peaches, or other fruit

Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter and sugar a 9” square pan.

 

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs with the milk, cream, and vanilla. Beat in the butter. Add the dry ingredients and mix well. Pour into the prepared pan and bake 20-25 minutes, until lightly colored and just-firm to the touch in the center; it will be starting to pull away from the sides. Do not either over- or under-bake so cake will be moist but cooked. Serve warm or cooled with fruit—sautéed, cooked with sugar into a simple sauce, fresh—with plain or whipped heavy cream, or both.