Hi! So you may be thinking, “Gee, the posts are a little infrequent lately, and I’m detecting a new look to Gen’s food blog…I know! There aren’t any pictures!” Yes, it’s true, I can hide nothing from you omniscient readers. And no, I’m not trying to make a point about what art is or say that beauty is in the mind or anything like that (though I did consider both cop-outs, briefly 
). Truth be told, my sweet little Canon is having personal troubles…she just can’t seem to focus on anything…she has problems sharing her photos with others–especially with the Mac, who really hasn’t done anything to deserve Canon’s scorn. Yes, Canon is experiencing inner turmoil, the likes of which I just don’t know how to fix. So together, we’ve made a decision to seek expert help for a peaceful resolution. Until then, the phrase “making do,” will have to describe our style…and of course, that leads me to a positively dee-lightful post!
A few thoughts on “making do”…As a child, leftovers were never a foreign concept to me. With a family to raise, a job to work, and limited funds to parcel out, my mother certainly wasn’t able to slave over something original every night. At the same time, though, we hardly ever complained. First of all, our ingratitude would have broken my mother’s heart. Secondly, leftovers were AWESOME. Mom was creative–hamburger patties found their way into spaghetti and macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes magically turned into crispy, baked puffs you could eat by hand, and odd cups and baggies of leftover vegetables, lifeless and unappealing in their cold Kenmore tomb, became vibrant and fun again in steaming bowls of beefy, vegetable soup. Mom called it, “making do.”
My impression of polenta dishes is that they often came about as a response to leftover bits and pieces that somehow needed to morph into an appealing dinner. And appealing it is. Since you don’t have a photo (though I took, oh, fifty), we’re going to “make do” with a mental picture. Who could really complain about creamy, buttery spoonfuls of polenta pillowing out from underneath a luscious, tomato-laden stew of savory meat and perky vegetables? WHO, I ask you?! WHO?!?! No seriously, who? I’d be curious to know who wouldn’t like this stuff. Polenta is truly such an ultimate comfort food. I ate it last night, and I still feel comforted. AND comfortable.
‘Am I comfy? “Why yes, thank you for asking, polenta.” So considerate, too!
That’s why I felt like a master chef and impressionist extraordinaire as I stood at my fridge and felt my internal light bulb flicker on (it could have just been the fridge light, but we’ll go for dramatic effect here). Leftover crumbles of Italian sausage. A few tomatoes just barely hanging on to life. A tub of sauteed greens from a few nights ago. A bulb of fennel purchased…I don’t even remember when. And cornmeal in the pantry…ding! Polenta night!
This recipe is easy, easy, easy, and so warming–perfect for a fall night, and made even better with the addition of a bottle of red wine and some Tuscan folk music. By dinner’s end, I felt cozy, satisfied, and HELLO–super smart! Polenta will do that to you. I may be in the middle of Chicago, but in my kitchen, it might as well have been the Tuscan countryside. And if I ran around waving my wooden spoon, screaming, “Mangia, mangia!” and scaring the Boy half to death, well, it’s all just part of perpetuating the illusion, and that’s just how I roll. And no, I will not judge you if you do the same. You’re welcome. After all, it’s all just part of “making do.”
Sausage and Fennel Ragu over Polenta
This recipe is extremely flexible–go nuts with it. If you don’t have any meat, this would make a delightful vegetarian main dish. If you hate fennel but love bell peppers, you’re crazy and you’re not allowed to make that substitution. Just kidding. Go ahead. Run with the spirit of “making do.” This shouldn’t be about what I had in my fridge–it’s about what you’ve got in yours. I’d love to hear about any interesting combinations you come up with! A few ingredients that hit me at the moment–mushrooms, olive tapenade, pesto, artichokes…
Ingredients:
-1 bulb fennel, trimmed and sliced super-thinly
-1 onion, sliced thinly
-8 ounces crumbled, cooked Italian sausage (if you’re starting with raw, just cook it off and drain excess fat before the first step)
-1 Tablespoon honey
-1 Tablespoon olive oil
-1/4 teaspoon pepper
-1/2 teaspoon salt
-1.5 cups pureed tomatoes (or diced tomatoes, or tomato sauce, you get the idea)
-2 cups wilted, cooked greens (if you have fresh, all the better–just add them in with the onions and fennel)
-1 Tablespoon freshly chopped basil
-freshly grated/crumbled cheese (I used farmer’s cheese, and it was great–also, feel free to leave it out)
-1 recipe polenta, cooked soft (if you need one, try this: Boil 6.5 cups water, add 1 Tablespoon sea salt, lower heat to a simmer. Whisk in 2 cups cornmeal and cook over low heat until it’s thick and tender. Stir in 1 Tablespoon of butter and 3 Tablespoons of Parmesan cheese–but I used farmer’s cheese, and it was fantastic. Keep warm.)
Directions:
In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Stir in the fennel and onion, cooking until transparent and al-dente. Add the honey and stir to coat, dropping the heat to low and stirring occasionally, until it’s all nice and caramelized. Add the greens, crumbled sausage, and tomato puree, and stir to coat, raising the heat to medium. Add the salt, pepper, and basil, and bring it all to a healthy simmer. Cook another few minutes, until the vegetables are tender, and add additional salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat. Ladle some soft, hot polenta onto the plate, and top it with a generous helping of the ragu. Add some grated or crumbled cheese to the top, and voila. Making do never tasted so good.
