Sunday, November 27, 2011


Hey, you didn't smell that stuff. Well whadya expect? This batch of experimental cornbread was made with two kinds of English Blue Cheese, Stilton Blue, and Shropshire Blue. The Shropshire Blue looks amazing, with a bright cheddar-like orange color and bark bluish veins (that didn't photograph well).

 Looks can be deceiving. The Shropshire Blue "Cheddar", when taste tested (a small piece about the size of a pea) had an excellent initial taste, that seemed to grow stronger and stronger for about a minute. Fortunately it peaked and mellowed off. Even without a beverage it was ok, but I think I'd have a cracker with it next time. I bet it would be quite the desirable wine accessory. I smelled the Stilton Blue before I had completely unwrapped it. I decided to wait and see how it was in the cornbread, and began a Reuben-style hedge.

 Ow, I was way too heavily invested in this outcome. With so much focused on this batch, I got so tense I couldn't eat more than a few bites of dinner before my throat closed up and I couldn't eat any more.

 The Stilton was strong enough I can only say, "I'm glad I don't have to touch that stinky stuff anymore." Though the Shropshire Blue was better, there is still the obvious question, "Why do this to cornbread that was really much better without the addition of these expensive and ultimately very unpleasant ingredients?"

Yup, this may be the extent of my scary cheese cornbread adventures, an expensive and sobering lesson. How can stinky cornbread be? Hopefully, only by accident.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


Well I gots ta call it something, and in searching for red cabbage facts I discovered that russians eat seven times as much cabbage per person as we do. So here's an excelent way to get yer dose-o-cabbage. My favorite cabbage lore is the Roman myth that red cabbages sprang from the tears of Lycurgus king of the Edonians.

 we'll call it Russian cause it sounds cool but history seems to reveal that cabbage came from everywhere. It also has red onions (everywhere) and black beans (a variety of kidney bean, central and south america.) Whatever you call it, this purplish batter yields a bluish cornbread that looks like a mutant blue berry muffin. Taste wise however this is more of a corned-beef  accessory than a replacement scone.

 I wanted it to be the elusive "Vegetarian Pork-chop," but while interesting and tasty this one fell short of the Cornbread-Grail. Still, there will be a recipe card and some mix notes for this odd but yummy cornbread as soon as I can get them organized.

Friday, November 4, 2011


 I guess it had to happen eventually, there is actually something that doesn't show marked improvement from the addition of Gruyere. Not to belittle the Gruyere, a true prince among cheeses, but oddly enough it didn't seem to add muchness to the cornbread.

The cornbread in question was somewhat beset by spurious variations, but nothing tragic. The complications of this last batch weren't as severe as the Swiss-style batch, none the less the grated fresh corn bit me on the ankle again.

 The power of the bacon mmm. I still was tempted by the call of the bacon fat (uh,yum?) While it did seem to add something, the louder sizzle at the beginning was really more noticeable than any bacony goodness imparted to the cornbread this time. To be truthful, it seemed to muddy the impact of the cheeses and adobo.

  Once again the sweetness and bulk of the creamed corn seem like they would have been superior to the fresh grated corn. The other big surprise this time was how little impact the teaspoon of adobo sauce added to some of the mini-loaves had (this time with no chipotle slices.) All in all though this was another sauerkraut and cheese enhanced success, as they released well and there were no survivor pones from this batch.

    I still look forward to adding the last of the Gruyere shreds onto our next pizza, but the next Gruyere I get will probably be for the cheese straws (where it rules).