These cornbread muffins are in the Southern tradition, incorporating buttermilk (I do live in Texas after all), but pay tribute to Native American traditions as well, using blue cornmeal. I initially tried the muffins with both blue and yellow varieties, but found the blue specimens to be far superior: tender and tasty. These are significantly more impressive when they’re fresh out of the oven. If you must hold them for a while, I’d recommend using yellow cornmeal instead; for reasons I don’t fully comprehend the sunny variety keep better. The muffins are extremely fluffy, so please be careful no to confuse this as an indication that they are undercooked.
Variations:
I tried them with a few leaves of sage torn in, a few grinds of pepper, and with maple syrup compound butter. Personally, I preferred the muffins plain, but they were rather spectacular with the compound butter, achieved simply by mixing room temp butter with maple syrup. Lather on and enjoy!
Mes Petits Choux, Punkin’s, and Dears,
I decided to take advantage of New York’s abundant bounty, and cheffed a Faux Thanksgiving meal just prior to my departure from the lovely city. Though intermittently sedated and totally high on codeine, I managed to remain dictatorial in the food department: Daddy-o and I went shopping for ingredients, and he actually cringed at my fascist fervor and veritable verve! The trouble is, I’m always right. Toujours, really I swear it. But he is my mentor, so it’s odd. The moment has been coming on for a while, and the definitive dawning of the age when I’ve surpassed my teacher in culinary knowledge is here. But I am most fortunate that he is as excited to be outdone as I am to be outdoing. It’s rather grand, actually!
I adore Thanksgiving. It is, après tout, a nationally sanctioned feast! But my history with the holiday is a bit peculiar. My derivation, culturally and genetically speaking, is totally un-American. I’d attended a few Turkey- and- Gravy affairs in my youth, but the first real Thanksgiving I had was the one I orchestrated and cooked last year at the ripe old age of 18. As such, I get to approach the holiday with sufficient cultural detachment that I’m able to use seasonal and historical ingredients in a way that is traditional, but that doesn’t suffer at the expense of adherence to childhood memories of Aunt Gretchen’s parchment-dry turkey. As a culinary celebration that is unabashedly cherished more as an excuse to cook and gorge than to uphold any moralistic ideals, Thanksgiving holds unique appeal to me, and I attack it with particular zeal and respect.
I recently cooked up a Faux Thanksgiving Feast, and though only intended to be a peripheral attraction, this dish stole the show. I love sweet potatoes. Love, love them. Earthy and sweet, evocative of the holidays and provocative of the sort of deep-down comfort that settles low in your belly and warms your mind and body from the inside out. Thanksgiving was never celebrated in my un-American home, and as sweet potatoes are not part of French or Brazilian culinary traditions, my infatuation with these rosy tubers is sparkling and new, unmarred by horrific failures. The bacon, sweet potato, and sage trifecta is inspired by Suzanne Goin’s Sunday Suppers at Luques, the freshest addition to my cookbook collection, and a superbly beautiful masterpiece I highly recommend. I would never have thought of it without her, as I’m absolutely not a bacon person, finding it to be the greasiest and most aberrant component of the All American Breakfast (scorned by my famille.) Youthful traumas involving this pork product have made me very wary (approximate rhyme!!!) but when I saw bacon listed on the “Lucques” page, it resonated in that soulful way that lets me know I have thought up or read about a golden combination. It was sensational. I’ve long lusted to cook sweet potatoes with maple syrup, and I found this to be a ripe opportunity; my guests and I were well rewarded.
* The sweet potatoes are intended to be cooked ahead of time. The action of letting them cool to room temperature allows their flavor to mellow, and reheating and caramelizing them with the bacon and sage imparts them with added depth of flavor. Even the bacon can be cooked earlier on, making this a fantastically easy dish to prepare when entertaining large crowds.
For the Sweet Potatoes:
For the Bacon:
Before Serving:
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