Fried Corn

[Jaymes]

haven't had fried grits in years...gonna have 'em tonight, though...

Fried mush?

[Mayhaw Man]

haven't had fried grits in years...gonna have 'em tonight, though...

Fried mush?

←

Certainly not. Here's how!

First, make some grits. Better yet, make some cheese grits!

Next, put them in a cake pan and let them cool there over night in the icebox

The next day (we eat these for breakfast, but who am I to tell you when to fry grits?)

heat up some bacon grease (you can use some namby pamby stuff like canola oil or something, but I wouldn't tell anybody that you did it if I were you) and cut the grits out of the pan into managable pieces.

Fry them in pretty hot oil, like 375 or so until they are crispy and brown on the outside and warm and delicious on the inside.

Fried mush, indeed.

[Bolivar Petit Corona]

we used a large plate in lieu of a pie pan, but that's essentially the same thing; we roll ours in flour with salt added; be sure to put enough salt & butter in the grits, before you chill

[racheld]

There's a "fried corn" tradition in our family which starts when one of the menfolks backs a pickup up into the shade of the backyard. He wheels that familiar vehicle with a masterful hand, past the lawnchairs and into just the right spot, though he can hardly see over the high green mass of roasin' ears piled into the truckbed.

He's been out in that dusty, smothery taller-than-he field since right at daylight, snapping those hot green pockets of corn from the waving stalks. It's field corn, white corn, not those yellow sweet ears for boiling and munching from the cob. This is starch-laden, thicken-in-a-minute, heavy white milk-swollen corn, made to be cut and stirred into custardy perfection.

He'll leave you the pickup; you gather whatever helpers you can. He's on to more important work...he'll go mount a tractor cab or another truck and carry on with his long, dusty day. It is time for whoever is in the house, or who can be called or commanded or coerced into gathering under those trees for corn duty. The whish of husks, the crisp snap of the stems, an occasional whack onto the grayed old picnic table to dislodge the frowning, disgruntled cornworm, and the pans of white ears grow fuller as the pile of greenery on the ground gains in height.

Smaller hands are handed brushes, to briskly "silk" the corn--Southern cooks are as finicky about cornsilks as they are about no dark meat in the chickensalad. They'd as soon find a bug in the pot as a cornsilk---that's just trashy.

Experienced hands take the corn into the kitchen, where the backsplash and several yards of counter and ESPECIALLY the oversink windows are lined with taped-on newspaper, fresh garbage bags, or paper towels, take your pick---just don't let that splash hit the counters. Why, when old Mr. Prysock was laid out at home, someone had to scrape all the dried cornsplashings off the windowsill before that kitchen was fit to serve in. The GCL didn't let on, but they never did look at Mrs. P's cooking the same again.

Great washings and splashings and laying out on kitchen towels---neat rows form pyramids, fresh damp cool of wrung-out towels cover the waiting mounds, and the cutting begins. Very sharp knife, dishpan in sink, corn held tipdown, and one neat cut sliced down, taking just the tiniest tip off each kernel. Then the blade is reversed, scraping down each side in rotation until the white milky nectar is released into the bottom of the pan.

Three or four hundred ears are prepared this way, then comes the "blanching" of pan after pan over LOW heat, flat-paddle stirring until the small bubbles rise--each bubble a gentle "puh" as the mass thickens. Quick cooling of pans set into icewater, quicker scooping into small square freezer boxes, and the chore is done.

There is no actual frying to the fried corn of my family's recipe. The same black skillet which turned out equally brown-crusted cornbread and catfish and chicken served to cook my Mother's fried corn. She plopped a stick of Blue Bonnet into the skillet and stuck it into the heating oven to melt. Two or three of the pint containers, straight from the freezer, were dipped briefly into hot water to loosen the contents, then the frozen white blocks were clunked out into the hot skillet. A moat of water was poured around, salt showered across the top, then into the oven. An occasional pull of the skillet out with one hand, as the other spoon-scraped the thawing corn off the tops of the mounds; when all had been melted and stirred into the water, the skillet went back in, to bake into a custardy, golden-topped creamy perfection unrivaled in taste and texture. Tiny crunches of the kerneltips punctuated the velvety bites; balance of salt and butter and crusty top made this the most memorable dish in my Mom's considerable arsenal of killer recipes.

Despite the starch-laden Thanksgiving table's having dressing, potatoes, sweet potatoes AND cheese and macaroni, the skillet of corn held precedence over it all, surpassing even the turkey in importance. There were center-spooners, savoring the silky creaminess; the crust-scrapers enjoyed the crunchy butteriness mixed into their spoonful. Nobody skipped the corn.

I have to depend on Farmers' Markets, and seldom do I "put up" three hundred ears at one time, but I have the skillet and the know-how, and the taste lives on.

Edited May 10, 2005 by racheld (log)

[Jaymes]

haven't had fried grits in years...gonna have 'em tonight, though...

Fried mush?

Certainly not. Here's how!

First, make some grits. Better yet, make some cheese grits!

Next, put them in a cake pan and let them cool there over night in the icebox

The next day (we eat these for breakfast, but who am I to tell you when to fry grits?)

heat up some bacon grease (you can use some namby pamby stuff like canola oil or something, but I wouldn't tell anybody that you did it if I were you) and cut the grits out of the pan into managable pieces.

Fry them in pretty hot oil, like 375 or so until they are crispy and brown on the outside and warm and delicious on the inside.

Fried mush, indeed.

Um....ask an old person. I think they'll tell you that's EXACTLY "Fried Mush."

After you put the grits in the fridge to set, you've made mush. Years ago, folks made grits by soaking the corn with lye water, or ashes from the fireplace. Some folks make their mush with regular cornmeal. But it's all mush.

Some folks roll the squares or wedges in a pancake-type batter before frying. Some folks in a fried-chicken-type of flour mixture. Many folks roll them in cornmeal to give them a crunchier crust. Some people like them topped with a fried egg; others prefer a slice of cheese; still others like syrup of some sort, often sorghum.

"Fried Mush" as a name may not have much modern appeal. But rest assured, folks, no matter what you call it, y'all are making Fried Mush.

Edited May 11, 2005 by Jaymes (log)

[Jaymes]

haven't had fried grits in years...gonna have 'em tonight, though...

Fried mush?

Certainly not. Here's how!

First, make some grits. Better yet, make some cheese grits!

Next, put them in a cake pan and let them cool there over night in the icebox

The next day (we eat these for breakfast, but who am I to tell you when to fry grits?)

heat up some bacon grease (you can use some namby pamby stuff like canola oil or something, but I wouldn't tell anybody that you did it if I were you) and cut the grits out of the pan into managable pieces.

Fry them in pretty hot oil, like 375 or so until they are crispy and brown on the outside and warm and delicious on the inside.

Fried mush, indeed.

Um....ask an old person. I think they'll tell you that's EXACTLY "Fried Mush."

After you put the grits in the fridge to set, you've made mush. Years ago, folks made grits by soaking the corn with lye water, or ashes from the fireplace. Some folks make their mush with regular cornmeal. But it's all mush.

Some folks roll the squares or wedges in a pancake-type batter before frying. Some folks in a fried-chicken-type of flour mixture. Many folks roll them in cornmeal to give them a crunchier crust. Some people like them topped with a fried egg; others prefer a slice of cheese; still others like syrup of some sort, often sorghum.

"Fried Mush" as a name may not have much modern appeal. But rest assured, folks, no matter what you call it, y'all are making Fried Mush.

In honor of this thread, I've got some mush settin' up in the icebox right now.

[pogophiles]

Thank you Racheld -- beautifully written!

[Mayhaw Man]

haven't had fried grits in years...gonna have 'em tonight, though...

Fried mush?

Certainly not. Here's how!

First, make some grits. Better yet, make some cheese grits!

Next, put them in a cake pan and let them cool there over night in the icebox

The next day (we eat these for breakfast, but who am I to tell you when to fry grits?)

heat up some bacon grease (you can use some namby pamby stuff like canola oil or something, but I wouldn't tell anybody that you did it if I were you) and cut the grits out of the pan into managable pieces.

Fry them in pretty hot oil, like 375 or so until they are crispy and brown on the outside and warm and delicious on the inside.

Fried mush, indeed.

Um....ask an old person. I think they'll tell you that's EXACTLY "Fried Mush."

After you put the grits in the fridge to set, you've made mush. Years ago, folks made grits by soaking the corn with lye water, or ashes from the fireplace. Some folks make their mush with regular cornmeal. But it's all mush.

Some folks roll the squares or wedges in a pancake-type batter before frying. Some folks in a fried-chicken-type of flour mixture. Many folks roll them in cornmeal to give them a crunchier crust. Some people like them topped with a fried egg; others prefer a slice of cheese; still others like syrup of some sort, often sorghum.

"Fried Mush" as a name may not have much modern appeal. But rest assured, folks, no matter what you call it, y'all are making Fried Mush.

←

I don't know any old people, only well informed young women such as yourself.

And I have to admit that I had no idea that was what folks were talking about when they mentioned mush.

Fried Grits sounds so much more palatable and healthy!

[joiei]

So when I read polenta on the fancy menus, it is really fancy mush?

[rooftop1000]

When I made "creole" shrimp and andouille last week all I could find was premade Polenta so I sliced it and fried it up

boy was that good

hubby said hey this would be good over rice...yes dear thats how your supposed to make it but not what I wanted

T

[joiei]

When I made "creole" shrimp and andouille last week all I could find was premade Polenta so I sliced it and fried it up

boy was that good

hubby said hey this would be good over rice...yes dear thats how your supposed to make it but not what I wanted

T

←

now this is something I will have to try.

[annieb]

My granny used the oil left over from the bacon she fried at breakfast. We added butter at the table if we wanted that flavor.

In my house, we call that GREASE