Slow-Cooker Polenta

February. Danny is home and stable and the new stable is a different stable than before — more limitations, higher oxygen requirement, more careful movement through the house. But he is here. He is having a conversation with me on Tuesday evenings now, a regular call, something we started doing when he came home from the hospital as a way of giving me daily updates without making them feel like medical reports. I call at seven. He tells me about what he ate. I tell him about what I cooked. That is the conversation. Sometimes more, always at least that.

He told me Tuesday that the hospital chaplain — a Cherokee man from the Tahlequah area, part of the IHS chaplaincy — had sat with him for several evenings during the hospitalization and had prayed with him in Cherokee. Danny has not spoken much about his spiritual beliefs over the years, not directly — he attends stomp dances when he is able, he observes certain practices, he knows the prayers, but he has never talked about it with the explicitness that some people talk about faith. He said the chaplain had given him something he needed. He said it without explaining further. Some things you do not explain. They are given and received and that is the whole transaction.

I made the most elaborate kanuchi of my cooking life this week. Not for any occasion. Just because I wanted to see how close I could get to the elder's description that Lily has been working with in the recording sessions — not just correct by the standard I have met, but correct by the most thorough historical standard available. I pounded the nuts for ninety minutes. I used the old pot method, not cast iron. I added a specific ratio of water to paste that Lily's research suggests was traditional. The result was something that was right in a way I had not experienced before, a depth and a clarity that I have been approaching for three years and finally touched. I sat at the kitchen table and ate it alone and thought: this is what it tasted like. Before everything. This is what the food tasted like before.

The week I made kanuchi for ninety minutes with a pestle and came out the other side with something that finally tasted like before, I also made this polenta. It is not the same food, not the same tradition, not the same history — but it asked the same thing of me: unhurried attention, the willingness to do the long version and find out what the long version knows. After a Tuesday call about faith given and received without explanation, about a chaplain who prayed in Cherokee and left Danny with something he did not try to name, I wanted to cook something that also did not rush toward its conclusion. This polenta — slow, simple, older in its logic than most things I make — was right for that week.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6 hours | Total Time: 6 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 cup coarse-ground cornmeal (polenta grind)
4 cups water
1 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
1 tablespoon olive oil, for greasing the insert

Instructions

Prepare the slow cooker. Lightly coat the inside of the slow cooker insert with olive oil to prevent sticking. This step makes a noticeable difference in the final texture and cleanup.
Combine the base. Add the cornmeal, water, milk, salt, and pepper to the slow cooker. Whisk together until no dry clumps remain and the cornmeal is evenly distributed through the liquid.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 6 hours, or on HIGH for 3 to 3 1/2 hours. Resist the urge to lift the lid frequently — the steam is doing the work. At the 4-hour mark on LOW, give it one careful stir if you are nearby.
Finish with fat and cheese. When the polenta is thick, creamy, and pulling away from the sides, stir in the butter pieces and Parmesan if using. Stir until both are fully melted and incorporated. Taste and adjust salt.
Rest and serve. Turn off the heat and let the polenta rest uncovered for 5 minutes. It will continue to thicken slightly as it sits. Serve in bowls on its own, or beneath braised greens, roasted vegetables, or a poached egg.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Polenta — The Patience of Getting Something Right