Eastside Road, Healdsburg, February 18, 2009
WHEN I WAS A BOY we called it corn-meal mush, and had it rarely, and then usually as a breakfast cereal, eating it with sugar and milk. Skim milk: for I separated the cream from the milk every morning, standing at the DeLaval machine and winding it to a steady F-sharp; and then the cream went into steel cans that were picked up by a truck from a rickety platform by the side of Blank Road, a platform under which I took refuge from the pounding rains waiting for the school bus.
But now we call it polenta. Lindsey cooks it in the stainless-steel pot, the one with one Bakelite handle left, the other long since burned off, and smoothes it with a whisk. We had red sauce left over from the pasta a couple of days ago, and it only improves with the passing days, unlike other items around here.
Cheap côtes de Ventoux 2006, "La ferme Julien"