The Raw Polenta

Long time ago, when I was an innocent child of about ten years, and not a devil like I am today, on the weekend and summer school break, we would stay at my grandparents’ house to help them out. I wasn’t very happy about going to my grandparents’ house because they would make me work. I know it’s selfish but children like to play, and not feed the chickens and clean the animals or go in the cornfield to collect special weeds for the animals to eat.

It was very hot outside and since I was always complaining about the work, my family decided to let me stay at home and cook. I was happy with that. They left early morning to work on the land and let me be all alone at home to cook and of course look after the animals. They left an old lady who lived next door to look after me from time to time. She just screamed my name from over the fence every hour and if I didn’t answer, she would come over. Luckily before they all left, my grandpa fed the animals so it was all set until they returned in the afternoon. I preferred to stay home than being in the sun and working the land.

Happily, I prepared a huge pan of chicken soup and stewed vegetables with some meat. Nothing fancy and since I still had the time, I decided instead of going to the shop to buy bread, I should make polenta. It was the first time I was cooking unsupervised, and I had never made polenta. What all you need to know is that cornmeal is easy to cook but if you don’t know the secret, it might not cook very well.

The food was ready, and I started to prepare the table for everyone because they would be hungry after all the work. Nobody has taught me anything, but I have stolen the art of cooking from my mother and grandmother.

When everyone arrived and saw the big table prepared with elegance, they were astonished. All of them asked if I did it by myself and complimented my skills. I managed to impress around ten people and it made me very happy. They were all eating the food and praising my cooking skills but nobody touched the polenta. They took a bite here and there but that was it.

I was running in circles around the table and inviting everyone to have more. It filled my heart with joy to see the plates all cleaned up. Since everyone was talking about how good of a chef I was, I didn’t bother much about the polenta.

After all had eaten and left home, my grandpa came to me in the kitchen. I was washing the dishes when he approached me.  Since I was short, he made a small wooden chair for me to stand on so I could reach for the things. With my sleeves rolled up and my small hands soaked in water, I was singing “Lovely lady don’t be sad” while washing the dishes. My grandfather said, “Little girl, you have done amazing cooking today, I am very proud of you. But is it true that nobody taught you how to make polenta before?”  I said no. He then kissed my forehead and said, “No worries. I will teach you how to make it as the one you made today was a bit raw.”

Later in the day, I cut the polenta into pieces and gave it to the dog we had. He looked at it, turned around and left. My polenta had big chunks of uncooked flour. No wonder why nobody wanted it; even the dog thought I was making fun of him.

I did not understand the reaction of the dog back then but it definitely pushed me to learn how to make the perfect polenta. When I look back at those times, I feel grateful my grandfather was honest with me, and in pleasant words told me that the polenta I made was crap! It taught me to not just make it perfectly but to aim for perfection in other things too.