John Stewart: the bald spot is growing, but he’s still damn funny.
So a few weeks ago I randomly left a comment on a post at Serious Eats, the result of which was my being randomly chosen to receive a copy of Paula Disbrowe’s Cowgirl Cuisine. Paula is a French-trained New York-based food writer who removed herself from the big-city rat race to live in Texas, cook on a ranch and write a cookbook filled with pictures of herself. I know we’ve all wanted to flee our humdrum existences to live a life of leisure surrounded by goats in the Texas Hill Country, where “Texas Hill Country” is read as “Tuscan villa” and “goats” as “Italian supermodels.”
Seriously, there are a LOT of pictures of her in the cookbook. And not pictures of her cooking or engaging in Texas-type activities like riding horses, erecting homemade border fences or driving to Mexico for cheap over-the-counter pharmaceuticals; that would make too much sense. Just pictures of her standing around, lying in fields and, I shit you not, stripping down to go skinny dipping (don’t get excited, you can’t see anything).
Anyway, despite all the auto-photography and the terrible, terrible title, I bring you: shrimp-stuffed poblanos with walnut sauce and classic cornbread.
If you eat bacon – and I KNOW you eat bacon – then you should be hanging on to your bacon fat and using it to impart bacony goodness to more foods. One of those is this classic cornbread: the cast-iron skillet is greased up and pre-heated, creating an instant crispy delicious crust around your cornbread.
I don’t want to re-ignite the War Between the States, but I know there are some Southerns who will be deeply troubled by the fact that this recipe has added sweetener. Northern-style cornbread is typically a bit moist and a bit sweet, while Southern cornbread is straight-up crumbly corn goodness TO WHICH NO SWEETENER IS ADDED ON PAIN OF DEATH. Edna Lewis will personally come back from the grave to chastise you, or so I hear. Apparently Paula Disbrowe is confident that she can take Edna’s ghost, because she unapologetically instructed me to include 2 tablespoons of honey to my cornbread.*
*I think Edna’s ghost could kick my ass. I bet she’s really tough and wiry.
Magic! Okay, not really; it’s just the stove. Sigh.
Brian prepared the poblanos by roasting, peeling and seeding them. You can throw your peppers under the broiler as well, but we like throwing them right on the gas range, where it’s easier to keep an eye on them. The smell of roasting poblanos is gorgeous, and they make fun popping noises as they blister. Once they’re roasted, a few minutes in a covered bowl steams and loosens the skin, which then sloughs right off.
Even though roasting and peeling poblanos is old hat around here – sometimes I roast and peel a few hundred poblanos before breakfast – Brian read her instructions for roasting anyway. Which apparently suck, judging by his grumbling as he tried to figure out how to reconcile totally contradictory directives about when to remove the seeds.
I’m risking my life with these tomatoes for YOU.
While Brian tended to the peppers, I got to work on the stuffing. It starts with thinly-sliced garlic slowly heated in olive oil to impart its sweet, pungent flavor. Which is then discarded, which makes me very mistrustful; why would you throw away perfectly good sauteed garlic, the foundation of all that tastes good? I understand that it still lends its flavor to the oil, but it concerns me.
Red onion softens briefly in the garlic-infused oil, and a chopped tomatoes goes in. I chose some organic yellow heirlooms that I hope will not kill us all – I tried to pick the ones that were farthest away from the display of red tomatoes, just in case – and cilantro, ground coriander, orange zest and some triple sec which I found in the fridge, and I don’t remember ever buying triple sec and am wondering if it might have been left here by the people who lived here before us. Can triple sec go bad? I guess I’ll find out tonight.
The whole mess cooks down into a bright, jammy pile of mush that actually kinda looks and smells like it would be tasty on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Moving right along.
The shrimp go in just for a few minutes to barely cook through, since they’ll continue to cook in the oven.
I freely admit that despite my strict smackdown rules – no changes, so “I think this would be good…” additions – I threw in an extra ingredient: salt. No where in the recipe or instructions are we ever instructed to add salt, and I generally don’t find tomatoes, shrimp or walnuts to be inherently salty. Is there some kind of cowgirl objection to seasoning that I don’t know about?
I have a headache, so make up your own fucking caption. What am I, your trained monkey?
The shrimp are left whole, so you don’t really end up with a stuffing in the traditional sense. I heaped them into the poblanos and stuck them in the oven to finish cooking and heat through. While they heated, I threw the walnut sauce together.
Blender cam, activate!
The walnut sauce is pretty much raw; although it’s heated through, it’s not really cooked. Sour cream, bread crumbs, walnuts, cinnamon and walnut oil (and some more surreptitious salt) go into a blender.
They then try to destroy the blender with their utter refusal to blend. I don’t know if the blender was just the wrong appliance for this (although it’s what the instructions said to use) or if the freakishly thick organic sour cream I bought was to blame, but I’m pretty sure that I narrowly avoided an actual fiery blender explosion by throwing some warm water into the mix to thin things out. Still, it made a most un-blender-like sound, and the motor started to smell a little.
Looks remarkable like pine nut fake-out cream, don’t it?
I scraped the sauce into a pot to heat it, but it was still so thick that it actually started to fry and brown in the saucepan. So I added more warm water, kept the heat as gentle as possible and whisked the holy hell out of it. It was still pretty thick, but at least had made the transition from “quasi-solid” to “mostly viscous.”
The Smackdown rules say nothing about pre-dinner snacking.
The cornbread came out of the oven all golden and fragrant and bacon-smelling. Everything was ready, so I rang the virtual dinner bell, rustled up the grub and we moseyed on over to the table.
So it’s not the prettiest plate in the whole world and I know it sounds like I didn’t like the recipe, but this was good. Strange – really, really strange – but good, once I got used to the flavor combination.
The cornbread was good, especially with some butter and honey slathered on top – yes, I’m from the North, I like my cornbread sweet and I’m not ashamed. Roasted poblanos have a little heat, but mostly a lovely sweet earthiness. The shrimp and tomato filling was fresh and bright, especially with the addition of cilantro, and just a bit sweet. The walnut sauce was creamy and very, very walnutty. The cinnamon gave it a sweet undertone, and it almost tasted like something that would be good on pancakes, although the dairy played well with the poblano. The creamy sweetness was a bit incongruous at first, but as my palate got used to the flavor combo I enjoyed it more and more; it was an interesting foil for the bright shrimp mixture. I’m not sure the dish would have been as pleasant with no salt at all, so I’m glad I broke the rules. GLAD, I tells ya.
Final Score: Us, 1; Food, 0; Salt, what does she have against you?
Sounds interesting. I know what you mean about sweet cornbread, I usually smother mine in honey and butter too. Although I love me an unsweet bacon fat cornbread somethin’ fierce.
Count me in among the sweet cornbread lovers. I’m sure Ms. Lewis wouldn’t mind (it’s all a matter of personal taste, right?), though I am not averse to eating unsweetened cornbread as well 🙂
That cornbread looks particularly good.
As does that lump of lard.
Sweet cornbread RULES. WTF is up with that chick posting random pics of herself throughout the book? Nekkid swimming pics have NOT ONE THING to do with cooking. Especially when there’s bacon involved. Do you know how painful it would be to cook bacon nekkid? Sheeeeeit.
That looks shockingly like yellow cornmeal. If I made cornbread with yellow cornmeal, nevermind put sugar in it, I’d wake up to my dead ancestors crawling up my legs with knives in their teeth, so I’ll stick with white cornmeal and no sugar down heah in da south.
So this book covers bacon, a half naked chick, and cornbread? Yup the author def knew what she was doing.
No salt? I hate people that have a grudge against salt. Your body needs salt, people. Makes me nuts I tell ya. I love the sound of the tomato-base for the shrimp. I’d love to eat that on toast in the morning. Delish!
This looks awesome. I love love love cornbread like this. With honey. Just to spite the southerners.
In da south most folks done eat bayiskits fo breakfast. However, some of us done be eatin’ hot, fresh cornbread slathered with lots of unsalted butter and drenched in real maple syrup. That sugar rush goes well with an espresso strong coffee, and just makes the start of the day a little bit sweeter. I know it ain’t proper for a born & bred southern boy to have sweet cornbread, but I am going to eat what the hell I like.
With recipes like that, I know why she had to fill the book with pictures of herself. Good food & good sex go together, but Fru Fru Texas cookin’ ain’t gonna cut it.
marc, i always thought of cornbread as merely a tasty vehicle for butter and honey (don’t shoot, southerners).
manggy, nor am i, as long as the sweetener can be poured on top.
forkful, i had to stop myself from spreading bacon fat on the cornbread instead of butter…i still might do it with the leftovers.
canary, you are NOT KIDDING. um, i mean, yeah, i could see how nked bacon cooking could be bad.
fuzzy, it was yellow – she didn’t advise me either way, and that’s what i had in the house. please don’t sic your knife-wielding ancestors on me.
adam, aside from all the pictures, the book’s major shortcoming was not ENOUGH bacon. she told me i could grease the cornbread pan with veg oil, and i was like, “the fuck?” what kind of “texan” are you?
ann, yeah i think i might make the tomato base to use as a jam, maybe on some crostini with some fresh ricotta.
jodi, spite does not become you. stick with self-righteous judgment, like the rest of us.
teetle, i’m sitting here eating breakfast right now: cornbread covered in butter and maple syrup. and it is oh, so good.
whatever about the food…
sure, it sounds great but i am in a self impossed fruit hell
(i mean heaven)
but see how i keep reading?
see how LOYAL i am?
but it’s your response to teetie’s comment that got me.
your breakfast of maple syrup and butter slathered cornbread. yowza.
i had raspberies and an asian pear
am i superior?
god, i hope so…
lol, the captions are great and yay for lard! I’ve meant to make stuffed poblanos for a long time but never got around to it, but I’m glad I hadn’t because I like what you did a lot more than what I had in mind. Save me a plate?
I have a book for you. Much better than the faux-Texas-experience-one. “At Mesa’s Edge”, by Eugenia Bone…(daughter of the incredible Edward Giobbi) She and her husband bought a small ranch in Colorado….there’s no pictures of her getting nakkid, but plenty of great recipes. And good stories.
Real shit. Real good cooking. I think you’ll appreciate it.
That looks crazily delicious, walnut paste and all. I love cornbread, and see myself as entirely removed enough from the USA to enjoy it how I please – smothered in butter.
with this under your belt, i think you should go back to pine nut cream and tofu…sorry, i guess I enjoy reading about your misery.
I. LOVE. YOUR. BLOG.
like jelly loves peanut butter, srsly. i read this entry, verbatim, to my MOM. its that significant a romance, just sayinnn’. 🙂
(thanks for visiting mine, p.s)
i’m southern through and through–fried green tomatoes and ‘nanner puddin’ and grits are staples for me. confession: i like my cornbread sweet. don’t tell my grandpa, he’ll beat me with a stick. 🙂
claudia, you may be the most self-satisfied, but i am the most plain ol’ satisfied.
mike, too late. sorry!
catherine, sounds good, thanks for the recommendation.
laura, regardless of the whole northern/southern cornbread thing, i think we universally agree that it is delicious smothered in butter.
maybelles, man, you can cut the schadenfreude with a dull butter knife ’round these parts. i will do my best to fail next week, but i can’t make any promises.
BEC, welcome, and thanks! hope mom liked it too.
grace, it just took me a good 30 seconds to figure out what ‘nanner puddin’ is. because i’m quick like that.
Now that’s TASTY! I especially like the walnut sauce and glad it turned out ok in the end.
No salt skinny dipping Texas Cowgirl! Well it looks good and Im sure the salt was a welcome addition.
I lived in Austin, TX (the southern boundry of the Hill Country). Austin is a great place to visit, but after 4 years you get really sick of all the steers and queers that surround you. Queers as in big-fat-masaginistic-good-ole-boys not homosexual queer. And steers as in big-fat-masaginistic-good-ole-boys not cow steers.
With that said, I’m a southern girl through and through and prefer my cornbread sweet, but then again, my mother was a Southern Belle and my father was a farm boy from Milwauke.
lore, me too!
courtney, it was, it was.
urban, i’ve always wanted to go to austin. okay, maybe not always. but it seems like a fun town.
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