Rewriting my history

I have been thinking a lot lately about my food history, about how I ended up with a deepening appreciation for and fascination with food. I didn't start out like a lot other "foodies," whose childhood memories are peppered with lively and fragrant nights around the dinner table or cooking lessons from skilled, intuitive parents. Not that my parents aren't skilled or intuitive, mind you, it's just that much of their culinary skills when I was growing up started and ended with frozen peas. With varying degrees of embarrassment and acceptance, I admit that my fondest recollections of food revolve around diving into special-occasion Vienetta ice cream cakes and licking the remnants of Lays potato chips off my fingers. I was raised on processed (and so-called "convenience") foods, and making the transition away from that style of eating has been a kind of hazy process, filled with missteps and leaps into the sometimes unknown realm of local goods. 

As I have grown to appreciate different, more wholesome foods, I have certainly developed newer, more vivid food memories. I still get shivers thinking about the first time I tasted goat cheese, deep-fried and drizzled with honey. I felt like the ultimate hedonist, and at that time I still considered myself vegan, so indulging in such a sensual and taboo initiation was riddled with giddy excitement and rebellious abandon. That night marked a shift in time such that I can reasonably divide my life into "the period before goat cheese" and "the period with goat cheese." It's a lot better on this side, though I probably don't have to tell you that.

Even though there are certain foods, like goat cheese, that very clearly punctuate my transition into a more food-centric lifestyle, there are others whose growing presence has been more subtle. Take polenta, for instance. I know there had to have been a time when I first tasted polenta, but doing so wasn't quite such a revelation. Polenta just settled comfortably into my culinary life, happily called upon to add just the right amount of buttery softness to a dish. There's a place in anyone's repertoire for both kinds of foods--those that completely disarm you, unravel your tastebuds, and entice you down a road of further indulgence, and those that remain steady, don't show off, but have attained a respected status as a delectable kitchen staple.

Sometimes staples need some dressing up, so I figured I'd give polenta a little special treatment. As much as I love the stuff as a creamy porridge of sorts, or fried in rounds with a generous heaping of fresh tomato sauce, I had a craving for something only slightly more decadent. Let's just say that after eating these, I am heavily indebted to my broiler.

LEMON POLENTA FRIES WITH PARSLEY-HAZELNUT PESTO

Inspired by Gourmet

Feel free to double the quantities in the basic recipe if you want more--I certainly did.

FOR POLENTA:

Good quality olive oil for brushing

3 1/4 cups cold water

1 cup polenta (not quick-cooking)

1 tsp lemon juice

1 tsp grated lemon zest

1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into bits

FOR PESTO (this is the same basic recipe as my parsley-almond pesto, just with hazelnuts substituted for the almonds):

2 cups packed Italian parsley leaves
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons hazelnuts, toasted and cooled with skins rubbed off
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons water
1 clove garlic, peeled

1. Brush an 8-inch square baking dish with oil.

2. Combine water and polenta in a heavy medium saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring constantly with a long-handled wooden spoon, until polenta begins to pull away from the side of the pan. Add lemon juice and zest; stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Stir in cheese and butter until incorporated, then transfer polenta to a baking dish and spread evenly with a dampened rubber spatula. Chill, uncovered, until set, about 45 minutes (the polenta will dry out a little bit on top, so if you plan to let it chill for longer, make sure to cover the top with foil after the initially 45 minutes).

3. Meanwhile, blend all ingredients for pesto in a food processor until combined (do not overmix). Season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Preheat broiler. Line a baking sheet with foil and brush with oil.

5. Unmold polenta, then cut into sticks (about 4- by 1-inches). Brush tops with oil and space evenly on baking sheet. Broil about 4 inches from heat until golden, about 8-10, then flip and continue broiling for 8-10 minutes more.