Alright friends, Stella lost her groove. And by Stella I mean Sunday. And by groove I mean that nothing I’ve cooked or baked at my dad’s house has been quite right. It is always frustrating to try and cook in a strange kitchen, but it’s more frustrating to fail at cooking in a kitchen that isn’t exactly strange – this is my dad’s kitchen! I cooked here regularly on visits. And not just that, it is even the photography: it’s impossible. I have a golden hour in the morning where early light comes through the only kitchen window, and if I miss that hour, everything looks wan and sick. Turning the overhead light on makes it a thousand times worse.
It’s not a kitchen made for taking haughty bitch photos, that’s for sure. Which makes me feel like a shitty writer. Which makes me just eat another bowl of generic discount cereal for dinner. I NEVER CLAIMED TO KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. Stop looking at me.
At Thanksgiving? I made a pumpkin mousse pie that never set up. For dinner on New Years Eve I struggled to make the yeasted waffles I regularly and flawlessly cooked for ages, and the result was barely successful. I resulted to forcing the yeast in warm water, a trick that worked but had dinner two hours late to the table and still didn’t quite taste right. The next day I made cornbread from a fresh box of corn meal and a fresh can of baking powder, and yet something terrible still happened; the bread was thin and heavy and acted like it contained no leavener at all. And yet it did, I’m certain of it. What happened? I have no clue.
When I came across this post for “custard filled cornbread” at Sweet Amandine, I was overwhelmed with fury. Stupid cornbread. Look at her and her weird, good-looking cornbread. Jerk. I vowed to make it in an effort to avenge myself. And then there was a storm and I couldn’t get any heavy cream and it had to wait a week.
It is delightful. It is cornbread with a layer of cream “custard” on top, and serving it with a large pool of maple syrup underneath turns it into a curious and rich pile of breakfast carbs. I loved it. Mike the Viking couldn’t deal with the almost curdy texture of the warm custard, but I think the leftovers will have a texture more like cream cheese. He’s open to trying it again. In the meantime he is still muttering about wanting jalapeno cornbread.
I’m not saying the curse has been broken. But it definitely took a break for a morning.January 22nd, 2012 | Make It So