Johnny Cake

I've been reacquainting myself with childhood favorites lately, those foods I know well and that I've had so many times their presence alone represents a form of comfort. It's comfort food I seek when the snow's a-falling. Most everyone does. To that end, I bring you Johnny Cake the way my mother used to make it on an almost weekly basis (we weren't wealthy and cornmeal is relatively inexpensive). For us, it was breakfast for dinner, that ultimate luxury of syrup at the dinner table.

Keep in mind, of course, that Johnny Cake is not cornbread. I've been told (though I can't remember by who) that the difference between these two foods is that cornbread is made with sugar and Johnny Cake without and that Johnny Cake was the food of choice for the cash-strapped confederates during the civil war. Now I don't know about war, but I did sustain injuries while making this dish, as did my faithful wooden spoon. Fortunately, at the end of it all, I had a comforting food to help make it all better. It was almost like having mom there to apply the antibiotic ointment.

Mom's Johnny Cake
what you need:

2 eggs
2 c. milk
2 tsp vinegar or lemon juice
2 c. cornmeal
1 c. flour
1 t. soda
1/2 t. salt
small 1/2 c. crisco oil



1. You need to sour your milk. The best way to do this is to add 1 tsp of vinegar or lemon juice (I used vinegar) to each cup of milk used. In this case, it's two. Mix milk and vinegar/lemon juice in a bowl and leave to sit out for 10-15 minutes. You'll know it's sour when there's a coating of curdles floating pond-scum-like on at the top of the milk.

2. Preheat oven for 350 and grease 13 x 9 cake pan. Now, other sizes of casserole dish could be substituted, but it will significantly change the cook time, as well as the level of moisture left in the finished product. I speak from experience: if you can, use the cake pan.

3. When the milk is sour, add eggs and mix. Then add cornmeal and mix. Then add flour and mix. Then add soda and mix. Then salt and oil. And, you guessed it mix. When it's all mixy, pour it into the cake pan and plop it in the oven for 15-20 minutes.

4. Enjoy with a drizzle of maple syrup and perhaps a light dusting of powdered sugar if you're feeling frisky.

For a more healthy alternative, you could also make a side batch of kale cooked with one sliced up carrot and a can of black beans (undrained). Mash a slice of Johnny Cake up in a bowl with the veggies. It will look rather corn-dumpling-ish. Not quite as sugary delish, but quite comforting in its own way.

For the carnivorous out there, I've been told by the men in the house that it also pairs quite nicely with oven-baked leftover ham.

Mushroom Gravy (and the Poutine it inspired)

If there's one thing I miss as a vegetarian, it's gravy. And it's not because gravy tastes groovy or anything like that. Really, the reasoning is quite similar to why I could never give up ice cream: some foods equal comfort. And gravy is one of them. There's nothing that says "party time" quite like a heaping pile of whipping potatoes with a well in the middle that overflows with gravy. For the past few holiday season's, I have watched others' potatoes heaving and gravy strewn whilst mine went bare, but no more.

I have discovered mushroom gravy. And it tastes so good.

So it went like this: Garet decided that December should be Canadian month. But try as we might, all we could think of that we Canadian without also being American was Poutine, a strange french fry concoction I once say Anthony Bourdain eat in Quebec. We ended up expanding the fare to North American of course, but we did want to give this puppy a whirl.

The only problem: Bourdain's poutine consisted of fries fried in duck fat and covered in, among other toppings, gravy. So I consulted some cookbooks and discovered we veggies do have our own "gravies" just like we have an answer to every other meat-friendly entre (I'm ever fond of the smart dog as well on that front).

The fun thing about Poutine is it is a smorgabord a la fries, so while there are obviously some traditional toppings, anything goes. So for this one, we ended up cleaning out the fridge in the process as well, a splendid bonus. Art cooked up some chicken and gravy with greenbean casserole the night before, when I was at school. All that was left to do so make my end of the meal, the veggie gravy. The man was kind enough to grab a couple packages of white button mushrooms at the local grocer. It was all cake after that.

Mushroom Gravy
--Makes 2.5 c.--

2 c. water
1 c. chopped white mushrooms (I got white button on sale to boot)
3 T soy sauce
1 t thyme
salt and pepper
1 1/2 T cornstarch dissolved in 3 T water
1 t vegetarian browning liquid (such as Gravy Master)

1. In a small saucepan, combine water through thyme. Season with salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for three minutes to soften the mushrooms.

2. Transfer mixture to a blender and process to smooth. Return to saucepan over high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and whisk in the cornstarch mixture. Stir until sauce thickens or if you get impatient like me, add a few handfulls of flour one at a time while stirring until the gravy is of a gravy consistency. Stir in the browning liquid (I was less thrilled with my off brand but I get to thinking that vegetable Better than Boullion would get the job done and taste better. Try it if you wish. I know I will.)

3. Taste to adjust seasonings. Serve hot (in case this didn't seem obvious).

For the Poutine, I also stir fried up the rest of the mushrooms in the package with a little strawberry Balsamic, leaving them on long enough to start to carmelize.

As for the Poutine itself, there's no hard and fast recipe here. Just cut up some potatoes and put them on a cookie sheet in the oven on 350-400 for about 60 minutes (30 minutes and then flip for the last 30). Then go wild with the toppings and gravy. For the boys, the leftover chicken and gravy did just fine, though they, like me, opted for shredded cheese rather than the traditional cheese curd.  For myself:

A nice oven baked french fry base
carmelized mushrooms
leftover green bean casserole (reheated)
mushroom gravy
shredded cheese

It was a meal of comfort food topped with comfort food and then drenched in liquid comfort. A delight for the tastebuds and the stomach, with its meaty mushroom earthy meets carb standby favorite meets green bean... well... greenness. It might look a bit regurgitated, but until the potato-less gratin, it only looked unattractive. This is one of those adventures that I definitely want to repeat, and I did it all without duck fat.