I will be the first to confess this dish is neither romantic nor glamorous. And yet it remains one of my very favorite meals from my childhood. I eagerly await the cooler months, knowing that many, many mornings of yummy porridge and homemade hot chocolate (a divine accompaniment, since I have the gallon of milk out anyway) await me between now and springtime.
The Back StoryI was first introduced to the remarkable sweet stuff when I was just a young'n. Mom had "only" five children at the time, so I was probably about 8 years old. It was cold outside, the morning was getting rather late, and whatever Mom's "plan A" was for breakfast that morning fell through. Kids were getting hungry and, as a result, a bit grouchy. Being the resourceful lady that she was, Mom swiftly leafed through a few cookbooks until she found a simple breakfast recipe she could modify to feed six people with the ingredients she had on hand.
She broke out the milk and the cornmeal and a very big pot and set to work. In 20 minutes or so, every kiddo had a delicious, creamy, hot bowl of yumminess set in front of him. We all eyed it suspiciously, sniffed at it, looked around the table to gauge the others' reactions...then we looked to Mom and asked the inevitable question she was secretly praying we WOULDN'T ask: "What is it?" Now, if my mother were being frank, she might have told us that the title of the recipe in the cookbook was "Cornmeal Mush". But what picky eater (at a table full of fellow picky eaters) would go for that? In a flash, she scanned the recesses of her brain, tapping into her natural knack for creatively packaging things in a way that made good sense to a 5-year-old. Before we could even notice her hesitation (it was many years later that I was told the story you're reading now), she enthusiastically proclaimed, "It's PORRIDGE! Just like the three bears eat! Can you believe I found a recipe for it?"
With such attractive advertising, we would've dove into our bowls with two spoons, if we had them. It was promptly and completely devoured. The rest was history. Very yummy, warm, filling, cozy, and even economical history.
But enough with the old family stories...lemme tell you how to make it:
Perfect Porridge (or, Mama Laura's Accidental Breakfast Homerun)
Ingredients:
4 cups milk + 1 cup milk or water for thinning
1 - 2 cups white cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla (optional)
Assorted mix-ins: honey, white sugar, raisins, nuts, maple syrup, peanut butter, chocolate chips, dried fruit, apple butter, pumpkin butter, cinnamon, sorghum, granola, strawberries, leftover pot roast...you get the idea. Pretty much anything goes. (Except the pot roast. I was kidding about that part.)
What to do with the aforementioned goodies:
In a saucepan on medium heat, warm milk until just scalded, but DO NOT BOIL. (You'll want to watch the milk for little bubbles around the edges of the pan. I usually just do a quick "finger test" and move onto the next step when it feels really hot.)
When milk is scalded, gradually begin whisking in cornmeal, stirring constantly. Add cornmeal until desired consistency is reached. (If you prefer yellow cornmeal, knock yourself out. But I think the white cornmeal makes a world of difference in the flavor and consistency.) It should be thick, but not gummy. If you've ever had Cream of Wheat, that might be a good gauge for you to go by. If you've never had Cream of Wheat (or didn't like it when you tried it), that's okay. This is a very forgiving recipe. And it's cheap enough to allow for some experimentation. Just imagine what "porridge-y" would've looked like to three bears and go from there. ;)
Reduce heat to medium-low. Add salt and butter. Cook and stir 5 minutes longer to get rid of the "raw cornmeal" taste that may still be present. If it gets too thick during this time, just add another splash of milk or water until it's back the way you want it.
Remove from heat and stir in vanilla. Serve immediately. Serves 4-6 (or 1 greedy Goldilocks).
The lovely dish you see pictured here was my breakfast, sweetened with honey and topped with dates, raisins, chopped pecans, and homemade pumpkin butter.
There are a few reasons you should rejoice that I'm divulging the secret family recipe:
- It's delicious. You really don't need any other reason, but if you're one of those crazy people who likes to have all the facts about a marvelous bowl of porridge before trying it yourself, keep reading...
- It's cheap. Way cheap. Like, 40 cents (or less!) per serving. Cornmeal and milk are the primary ingredients here. You can easily use reconstituted nonfat dry milk...I've done it before and didn't notice a difference. Heck, in the batch pictured here, I substituted plain tap water for half the milk, and it came out fabulous. (I don't, however, recommend using ALL water, since then you're pretty much making polenta. And sweet polenta would just be a little weird.)
- It's versatile. Not a fan of white cornmeal? Use yellow. All out of sugar? Use honey. Rationing your butter this week? Leave it out. If you have a horde of picky eaters (or just one picky husband. *grin*), you can do what Mum did and leave ALL the optional ingredients out, letting each kid top their own bowl as they wish. (Pancake syrup was an especially popular addition, but plain ol' butter and sugar were always my toppings of choice.)
- I've found this recipe is far more appealing to kids than oatmeal. And it keeps them full much longer than cereal. And it's way yummier and cozier than a Pop Tart.
Please keep in mind that any leftovers should be stored quickly so you can go ahead and fill that pan full of water. Dried porridge can be a real pain to scrub off. Don't let those dishes sit too long!
If you're looking for even more porridge-y goodness, here is my *other* favorite porridge story...a little lesser-known than the one about the bears:
The Magic Porridge Pot
Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived alone with her mother in a small house near a big forest. They were poor and had nothing left to eat. One day the little girl went into the forest to look for berries. She met an old woman, who knew about her troubles, and gave her a little cooking pot. The old woman told the girl that it was a magic pot that would cook porridge whenever it heard the words ‘Cook, little pot, cook’. When there was enough porridge in the pot, the words ‘Stop, little pot, stop’ would make the pot stop cooking porridge.
The little girl took the magic pot home. She and her mother were no longer hungry because they ate porridge as often as they wished. One day the little girl went out for the day. When she had gone her mother decided she was hungry for a bowl of porridge. She said, ‘Cook, little pot, cook’ and the pot started to cook porridge. The pot filled with porridge and the woman wanted to stop it cooking any more, but she had forgotten the right words.
She said, ‘No more now little pot’ but it kept making porridge and spilled over the edge of the pot. She said, ‘That’s it, little pot, stop.’ But the porridge started to overflow from the pot and spilt down the table legs. ‘Stop it!’ she cried, but the porridge overflowed onto the floor and filled the kitchen. “Enough, enough!” the mother cried. It poured out into garden and down the street and into the next house. Then it poured through every street in the town and no one knew how to stop it. People came with buckets and pots to scoop up the porridge but as fast as they did, more porridge filled the streets.
At last the little girl came back into the village and shouted ‘Stop, little pot, stop!’ and the pot stopped cooking. But for a while, anyone who came into town had to eat their way there.
**********And with that, dear readers, all my porridge wisdom has been exhausted. Let me know if you decide to give it a try! Of if you have any other foodish thoughts or ideas, leave those in a comment, too! And be sure to check back in a few days to see what I learned about pumpkin butter.
~Ashley Michele~
