Lombardy is a region in northern Italy. It borders Switzerland on the north and extends down south of Milan. Lombardy is polenta country. Polenta is on every menu there, probably in multiple places. It might be part of the main course or a side dish. Either way, they love it in Lombardy.(See also: Train Ride through Lombardy).
What’s the Big Deal?
Polenta is just corn mush, so what’s the big deal? It’s like the transformation of coffee. Coffee was mostly just coffee until it found its way to Italy. Today it might be a cappuccino, café mocha, or a macchiato. Corn mush was just corn mush. Then the Italians did their thing, and now we have “polenta.”
People in Lombardy, like people just about everywhere, have been eating some type of porridge or mush for centuries. They’d take whatever grain they had, mill it, boil it until it was no longer like eating sand, then scarf it down.
In northern Italy, spelt and buckwheat were the grains of choice until the 16th century. Then someone arrived with maize from the New World. (Mexico, to be exact). It turns out that conditions in Lombardy and central Italy are perfect for growing corn. The rest is history.
There are lots of ways to make polenta. The short description is: cook ground corn in liquid in a 4:1 liquid-to-corn ratio until it’s no longer crunchy. Give it a stir now and then, especially if you’re the one who has to do the dishes. That’s it.
But what liquid to use? Three typical choices are water, stock, or milk. Purists prefer water because nothing gets in the way of the corn flavor. Use milk if you want your polenta to be extra creamy. Use stock if you want to add another dimension to the taste.
Most polenta recipes call for a 4:1 liquid-to-corn ratio. Many recipes call for more liquid. More liquid will result in a longer cooking time, but you’re more likely to end up with smooth polenta with no hard chunks of grain. Error on the side of more liquid.
Let’s Make some Polenta
Wanna make some polenta? OK. Let’s do it! My friend, John, is the best polenta-maker I know. He’s coming over and we’re gonna make some polenta
We’re using chicken stock this time. You know home-made is best, but that’s entirely up to you.
Get everything together so it’s ready to go. We’re making an Italian dish, but we still adhere to the French rule of mise en place, eh? Here’s what we want to have all ready to go…
4 cups of chicken stock, in a saucepan heating on the stove.
1 cup of ground corn.
A cube of butter. Don’t worry – we won’t use it all!
At least ½ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Salt and pepper
The stock is simmering. Time to add the corn slowly, whisking as we go, to keep any lumps from forming.
Reduce heat, cover, and simmer. Give it a stir fairly often. As the polenta starts to thicken, switch from the whisk to a spoon.
We’ll cook the polenta until we have the consistency we like. It’ll take about 45 minutes.
In southern Italy, they like their polenta to be wet, almost like thick soup.
Northerners prefer it to be more like a soft porridge. That’s how we like it, too. When it reaches the consistency we want, we take it off the heat. Salt and pepper to taste.
Stir in some butter. How much butter is up to you, but 2 tablespoons is a good place to start. That’s what a lot of recipes call for. After you stir it in, your polenta will start looking really good. (Don’t tell anyone, but John has been known to add some mascarpone* at this point, too).
Now stir in some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. As much as you want, but don’t get too crazy. Half a cup is the minimum. We put in closer to a cup.
When the parmesan has been nicely mixed in, we’re done. Our polenta is a beautiful thing right now.
Mangia!
“Mangia” is the fun part, eh? So many things go well with polenta. Anything meaty or tomato-y. A ragu. An Italian sausage. We’re putting a braised lamb shank and sauce on ours. Mmmmm. Mamma mia. (That’s it at the top of this post).
Another thing you can do is to pour the polenta onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Spread it out so it’s about 3/4 inch thick. Set it aside to firm up for an hour or so, then bake it for 15-20 minutes. When it’s done, slice it into pieces and use them as you please.
In Lombardy, polenta is often served as a side this way. A rectangular cake of polenta with a touch of sauce makes a perfect side to a meat dish.
Here are a couple of nice polenta-related resources:
Nonno Nanni
Serious Eats – How to Make the Best Polenta
Full Disclosure:
Can we talk? OK. John did add some mascarpone. Quite a bit, actually. In fact, he dumped in a whole tub of it. (John likes mascarpone). It made the polenta extra rich and creamy. Mmmm.
