Polenta with Butter-Braised Asparagus

Posted May 24, 2010

Find more about dinner , polenta , asparagus

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Polenta with Butter-braised Asparagus.

Michael found this rusty old coat-rack thing free by the side of the road, and it's perfect for hanging fabric over to make a Fancy Background! But will you miss looking at my Ugly Fridge?

The asparagus cooks quickly. Start it when the polenta is more or less done. I should have put these photos in a different order. Oh well.

Fancy Background with Cornmeal!

The cooking polenta did not prove overly photogenic.

And even the finished dish is so much better than it looks that there are no words. I thought a little vase of flowers might help capture my enthusiasm in a visual way.

Here's Ben. I hope you're not waiting for photos of Michael eating his scrambled eggs that he had to make himself! Poor Michael.

But then again, it's so nice to write about something that Birdy loves so much, since she is usually playing the part of the Picky Eater in my column, even though she's not actually picky; she just hates meat.

Here she's finishing mine.

The pot.

The leftovers. I can think of almost nothing I'd rather eat.

"If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all, right?" We are on a walk, and I've just asked my family to tell me a little bit about polenta, because I try to get them to do as much of my work for me as possible. Now Michael amends his response. "Or how about: if the words cornmeal mush sounds good to you, you'll love it!" Michael hates polenta. He thinks it's exactly like hot cereal (and he's right about this) and he hates all hot cereal. Cream of Wheat, oatmeal, porridge, grits. . . if it's hot and it's cereal, it will make him gag. I'm always trying to get at the psychological root of this loathing. I mean, if you want to hate feta or anchovies, fine: I love them, but I will grant that those are stinky and difficult foods. But innocent, G-rated, totally benign Cream of Wheat? There's got to be a story there. "It's just the texture," Michael always says, and shudders. "Maybe your dad whapped you with his belt while you were eating it?" (If you knew Michael's dad, this would make you laugh; if there is anything more benevolently good-natured than Cream of Wheat, it is Michael's dad.) Or maybe once the School Bully pinned Michael down and force-fed him oatmeal? Something. He doesn't remember anything (because he repressed it?).

"Mmm, polenta!" Ben says, and Birdy says, "Yum. It's a lot like hasty pudding, if people know what that is!" Of course they do! Because it's still Colonial America! At least in Birdy's mind.

The kids loooooove polenta. They luff it. They lurve it. And why shouldn't they? Assuming an absence of psycho-traumatic incidents, polenta is the comfortingest of the comfort foods. It is warm coziness in a bowl. It is happy childhood with butter and cheese. I love it more than seems reasonable, considering that it's actually fairly bland. But oh, I do love it. I actually crave it: fresh, in a bowl, either plain (and by plain I mean with lots of butter) or topped with something (though something not too complicated, because I like to taste its faint corn-ness). I love how it's creamy and mild but also so addictively flavorful. But I also like it the next day, when it's cold and leftover, and you slice it and fry it in butter. I mean, that's kind of a no-brainer, right? Fry it in butter, and you could get me to eat sliced mildew.

What you're going to see about this recipe is that, despite the fact that people make it sound like polenta requires your constant and microscopic attention, that's just a rumor. It doesn't. It's not flinging itself out of its highchair and breaking its collarbone while you look out the window for one second; it's not choking on a crayon it bit in half while you were running to the bathroom. It's the big kid upstairs playing with Legos, and all you need to do is check on it occasionally. Are you with me? I thought so.

And please don't feel hemmed in by the asparagus either. I like it because it's nice and plain, and goes so beautifully with the polenta (I always think I'll add garlic or balsamic vinegar or something, but then I just want it to be simple and clean-tasting.). But you could do a braise of any veggies that you like, or you could top the polenta with tomato sauce and mozzarella or with a stew (though that heads back into winter territory). Let me know what works, what you try, what you already love.

And the pot? It's fine. It looks bad, what with the crusty crust of cornmeal that forms on the bottom. But just soak it for a few hours or overnight, and it comes right off. Though I was suddenly reminded of this book from my childhood: Maudie's Mush Pots. Poor Maudie hides the mush pots instead of washing them, because she's pissed that her brothers get to play outside while she does all the scrubbing. As she should be.

Easy Polenta
Serves 4
Total time: 40 minutes

This is adapted from Marcella Hazan's brilliant recipe for "Creamy Polenta." Because you were afraid of polenta! You demanded the right to not stir it so much! And we listened. We heard you.

4 cups water
2 teaspoons kosher salt (or half as much table salt)
1 cup polenta or coarse corn meal (use the best you can find, preferably stone-ground)
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan, plus more for topping.

Bring the water and salt to a boil in a 3-quart heavy saucepan (one that has a lid), then add the polenta in a thin stream, whisking (it will seem lumpy at first, but that's fine). Cook over moderate heat, whisking, for 2 minutes, then reduce the heat to low and cover the pot. Cook the polenta at a bare simmer, stirring with wooden spoon for 1 minute after every 10 minutes of cooking, for 45 minutes total (I set the timer for 10 minutes, then make a littler mark on a pad to keep track of how many times I've done this; it sounds more complicated than it is). Remove the polenta from the heat and whisk in the butter and cheese until incorporated.

Butter-braised Asparagus
Total time: 10 minutes

2 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (or half as much table salt)
1 bunch asparagus, washed and cut into 1-inch lengths
Fresh lemon for squeezing
Freshly ground black pepper

In a medium/smallish pan, bring the water, butter and salt to a simmer over medium heat and add the asparagus. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally at first and then more often, until the asparagus is tender and the liquid is more or less evaporated to a glaze, around 4 minutes (if the water evaporates before the asparagus is cooked, add another tablespoon). Add a big squeeze of lemon and a grinding of black pepper and serve.

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Polenta with Butter-Braised Asparagus

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by Catherine Newman

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

Dalai Mama Dishes

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

Polenta with Butter-Braised Asparagus

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