Dinner on the cheap, with morels + cream

I bought a small box of morel mushrooms over the weekend for I won’t say how much, and no, it wasn’t very cheap. But the morels were on sale, which may have been because the season will be ending soon. And I just love morels. Don’t you? They’re one of springtime’s perfect foods, sautéed with shallots, then tossed with a bit of tarragon or other spring-like herb, and set atop a spoonful of crème fraîche or tossed in heavy cream. They can be dotted on polenta, which costs nothing at all, and if you’re careful with those mushrooms, the price of the whole dish will wind up being less than a sandwich.* I can’t be the only person who finds this exciting.

Indeed, one of the best reasons to cook and eat at home, I think, is that it’s cheap. I’ve never done a super sized-style diet before, and I suppose it’s true that that may be the ultimate in cheap. But the health consequences will eventually be pricey, if not for that person in particular then certainly for our great American nation (and that long term fiscal outlook!). For the most part, though, and certainly in the long run, eating at home is really economical.

The best thing to do with fancy ingredients, I think, is very little. Pair them with a few other ingredients that tend to grow in about the same region at about the same time (It sounds so dorky, but things that grow together do go together), and then take utmost care to do no harm. Cheaper ingredients can require a bit more work, however, and polenta is a case in point, starting with the word itself. I could be crazy, but I think “polenta” sounds intimidating. I also think it doesn’t actually mean that much. Polenta is yellow cornmeal. Grits are (usually) white cornmeal. The cooking method is the same.

The polenta in the photo above is not the peppermill gone wild but ‘buckwheat polenta,’ yellow cornmeal with several scoops of buckwheat flour, which gives the dish a bit more nutritive heft, if a less attractive hue. Any of these three is fine for the method below. There is a time commitment involved in making polenta, but for the most part you just need to make sure your kitchen doesn’t catch fire. Which is nice, I think, because standing over a hot stove stirring sputtering corn mush for an hour plus doesn’t count as cheap. But having a drink with a few friends while waiting for dinner to be done—no hired help required—might be the greatest luxury there is.

Polenta

Polenta does not need to be stirred constantly. Figure ¼ cup dry polenta per person. Adjust all other measurements accordingly.

1 cup polenta  |  5 cups water (you can swap in 2 cups of milk here, if you like, especially if making grits)  |  2 t kosher salt  |  pinch of nutmeg  |  butter, parmesan, or both for finishing

Bring the water and salt to a boil. Pour in the polenta, whisking. Turn the heat down as far as it will go. Whisk every now and again, and scrape the bottom to make sure nothing sticks too much. The polenta should simmer slightly. As it gets thicker, it will bubble and then sputter. If it gets too thick, add some more water, stirring vigorously with the addition. It will be done after about an hour of simmering, but can go longer if you like or need. Taste for seasoning at the end, and add more as necessary. Add a small pinch of nutmeg, too, as well as a few tablespoons of butter, parmesan, or both. Stir that vigorously. Cover tightly until you are ready to eat, or serve immediately.

To make a fancy meal, top with a ragout of mushrooms (they need not be morels) tossed in some cream + herbs.

Serves 4

* For my fuzzy math: Very good polenta may be bought for less than $3 for a 24 oz bag. This will be about 5 cups of cornmeal, and ¼ cup will make enough to feed one person comfortably. That comes out to less than a 10 cents per serving, and the other ingredient here is water. Those morels were $15 for a pint, and were stretched to serve 3, that is, $5 per person. With all the other add-ons—salt, a few tablespoons of cream, a shallot, some butter, and some herbs—you’re still not looking at much more than $7 per person for a fancy meal. This makes me want to jump up and down with joy. But I perhaps shouldn’t say that out loud.