Hello, old friends, and welcome, new ones! This is NOODLE: a recipe newsletter for cooks and non-cooks who wanna cook like cooks. I noodle (that is, work really hard on developing great recipes) so you don’t have to.
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For the past two weeks I’ve been addicted to Ink Master, the lauded (by me) tattoo competition show whose name is really difficult not to say in baritone. For a handful of recent nights, my head has been hitting the pillow past 2 AM because I can’t get enough. I’ve missed deadlines because of this program. (I have now started using it as a motivating tool.) The theme song appears in my dreams. As a non-tattooed, non-TV-watcher, I’m finding this all very confusing. I think some may call it addiction
RICOTTA-STUFFED CORNBREAD: ALSO ADDICTIVE
On the show, there’s this one challenge that’s performed in pairs, whereby one competitor has to finish a tattoo that another competitor has started. The task is to create a single, cohesive tattoo that looks like it was completed by one person.
Teams can only win if they’re in true alignment on creative vision, executing their craft in full synergy. They have to understand each other. Be in lock step.
ENTER THE KITCHEN ANALOGY. AND YES, THIS RELATES TO CORNBREAD.
I know the feeling of symbiotic partnership in my profession, and I thank sweet Saint Cucina that I know it so well. I’d be a worse (and lost) cook without the kind of conjunctive cooking I do with one person in particular. She’s someone who, in a nearly otherworldly manner, understands my brain synapses that fire and form my opinions around when to play the tarragon card, why anchovies should be paired with mushrooms, or whether it’s best to grill or roast.
Finding that person with whom you have effortless harmony is kind of like falling in love. Synchronicity. It doesn’t happen with just anyone.
NOODLE LOVES YOU. SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE. (OR HEY, BECOME A PAID SUBSCRIBER AND SUPPORT THE WORK!)
ENTER MOLLY BAZ
Molly Baz is first and foremost my culinary soul sister and most treasured collaborator in the kitchen.
Arguably more of note than Molly’s identity as my bestie in and out of the kitchen is that she’s a magical culinary entrepreneur with a New York Times bestselling cookbook and another on the way and a wine brand and a new line atCrate & Barrel and cooking shows andfans galore, and, and, and!
Oh, how easily a love letter to Ink Master can turn into a love letter to Molly Baz.
Our mothers— old high school friends— enthusiastically and with much prodding put us in touch 8 years ago, as mothers do. We met and we clicked. Mothers rejoiced. And then we got into the kitchen together and started cooking. The skies opened, the seas parted, hell froze over, and all the other “the earth stopped moving-esque” cliches occurred. I think this is when people might say, “the rest is history.”
VINTAGE
We don’t really have to speak when we cook together. When dressing a salad, we dive in with fingers, shoving components into our mouths. Without a word, one of us will grab the salt, the other one reaches for the oil, and we’ll re-dress, re-toss, re-taste. Maybe a nod, or a raised, knowing eyebrow. Silence. A melding of instincts, cultivated through years and years of dicing, slicing, whisking, and icing next to each other.
At times I have wondered if we defy biology and share the same taste buds.
In short, we finish each other's tattoos.
I DID SOME QUICK MATH AND WE’VE EATEN APPROXIMATELY 5,493,820,489 CALORIES TOGETHER. (PHOTO CREDIT: PEDEN + MUNK)
IN LOCK STEP
THIS WEEK, MOLLY AND I HAVE (some of) YOUR 4th of July FOOD SORTED.
YOU MIGHT BE SURPRISED, BUT THIS CRAZY MISH-MASH HAS A WHOLE LOT OF SYNERGY
I’m very excited!!! I’m guest chef’ing over at Molly’s the-hits-keep-comin’ recipe club. Here’s the deal, straight-up: She’s my favorite cook in all the land and her food will likely make you go bonkers. I hope you’ll subscribe.
There, I’m sharing a recipe for my Crazy Pasta Salad with Cucumber-Corn Pesto, wherein you mix all of the rando dregs from your near-empty pasta boxes. It’s CRAZY! What results is a bowl filled with different pasta shapes, all jumbled together, with cook times backed out so they boil in the same pot, just staggered.
FINALLY, A HOME FOR ALL OF THAT PESKY FARFALLE
Easy! And kind of a “DUH!” technique that I think everyone should be doing with their pasta. Texture, texture, texture! To say nothing of the glam factor here.
CUCUMBER-CORN PESTO… PUT IT ON EVERYTHING THIS SUMMER
To call this cucumber condiment a mere pesto would undermine its stature— it’s so much more: SO SO summery and crisp and vinegar’ed and herby and slightly sweet from pureed fresh corn. My favorite part (it’s hard to choose) is the incorporation of a hefty dose of a certain cheese that balances the brightness of the pesto with its richness. And for some reason, despite how accessible it is, I had forgotten about this particular cheese while developing this recipe.
Had it not been for Molly’s suggestion I’d have likely used a cheese much more… expected. BORRRRING!
Consider this cheese BACK and very much on the radar. And you can find it, alive and well, smack dab in the middle of my Crazy Pasta Salad recipe at Molly’s recipe club.
RICOTTA-FILLED BUTTERMILK CORNBREAD WITH CALABRIAN CHILES
And HERE at NOODLE HQ, another recipe for the 4th that I’m ridiculously psyched about.
Molly and I worked on a cornbread recipe earlier this year for a project that warranted only the very best. After several dozen attempts to suspend coconut cream in the middle of a cornbread, we quit. It didn’t feel great. We mourned a bit.
So for this installment of NOODLE, honoring our partnership, I thought, let us nail a cornbread with a surprise in the middle, once and for all.
THE MAGIC MOMENT
The recipe started as a solo endeavor: to develop a ricotta cornbread. After a dizzying number of trials, I was nearly there. But at the 11th hour, as it so often does, the task shifted naturally into more of a collaboration with Molly. Thanks to a few meandering conversations and many an exchanged voice memo, something that was really good transformed into something that was really fucking good.
Slice, slice… WHAT?!
WHAT LIES BENEATH…
A SUSPENDED LAYER OF RICOTTA… A TRIUMPH. WE DID IT.
Super rich and crazy moist, with a lightness from buttermilk, this cornbread has been months and months and months in the making. With a hefty fault line of ricotta running through and through, we surprised even ourselves on this one.
Oh, and you can thank Molly for the component of heat… “it just wants Calabrian Chiles, Nora,” she said. I knew she was serious when she called me by my name.
IF I WERE MORE PATRIOTIC, I’D HAVE ADDED BLUEBERRIES
I know, I know, you’ve seen them here before… but Calabrian chiles in oil are popular for a reason! They’re full of heat, but not so much that it masks the complex flavor of the chile pepper itself. Flavor, people! But feel free to change it up: add chile crisp instead, or a ton of black pepper. Or chile flakes. Or make the top half chiles, half nothin’, and cater to both the spice lovers and haters. Or add no spice and just let the ricotta shine.
Best made and eaten on the same day, but leftovers can be thrown in the microwave, or even better, seared off on all sides in a buttered skillet. (That’s a Molly tip, too.)
Ricotta Filled Buttermilk Cornbread With Calabrian Chiles
RICOTTA-FILLED BUTTERMILK CORNBREAD WITH CALABRIAN CHILES
Serves 8-12
REMEMBER, BEST PRACTICE: READ THE RECIPE ALL THE WAY THROUGH BEFORE YOU START BAKING!
Use medium grind cornmeal for that it’s-what-you-want toothy cornbread texture. Bob’s Red Mill’s version is great. And source the best ricotta you can find. Will Polly-O work? Sure. But using a rich, high-quality version will yield tastiest results.
Trader Joe’s makes an excellent Calabrian chile “BOMBA” condiment that’s easy to find and super delicious. If you want to omit the chiles, you of course can do so, and just let the ricotta shine.
Leftovers? Highly recommended: crisp up wedges in a buttered skillet until golden and crisp on all edges.
1 cup (8 ounces) high-quality whole milk ricotta
1 ½ cups plus 3 tablespoons well-shaken buttermilk (the low-fat versions work, too), divided
Kosher salt
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
⅔ cup medium grind cornmeal
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 large egg
3-4 tablespoons Calabrian chiles in oil (to taste)
1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees with a rack in the center.
2. In a medium bowl, combine the ricotta, 3 tablespoons of the buttermilk and ½ teaspoon salt. Stir until smooth and set aside. (This will be your topping.)
3. Place a 10-inch cast iron skillet over medium heat. Add the butter. When melted, remove from the heat.
4. In a large bowl, combine the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and 2 teaspoons salt. Whisk to combine.
5. Whisk together the egg and the remaining 1 ½ cups buttermilk in a medium bowl. Add to the dry ingredients and mix with a spoon until smooth. Add the butter from the skillet, swirling to grease the sides of the pan as you pour it out, and mix until smooth. Return the skillet over medium heat until warm, about 3 minutes. (This will jumpstart the golden crust on the cornbread.) The butter may begin to brown and smell– that’s ok (and good)!
6. Turn off the burner and scrape the batter into the skillet. Smooth the top. Drop dollops of the ricotta mixture over the top of the batter, along with the Calabrian chiles and their oil:
DOLLOP!
Distribute in a haphazard way– no need to be precious about it! With a skewer or a few toothpicks, gently swirl the ricotta and the chiles over the top of the batter to distribute just a bit, making sure the toothpick goes all the way to the bottom of the batter. Don’t over-swirl… it’s tempting, I know.
7. Transfer to the oven and bake, rotating halfway through, until the edges of the cornbread are golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 24-28 minutes. Let cool for about 30 minutes before slicing and serving. Store any leftovers covered on a plate rather than in the cast iron skillet, so as to prevent any transference of flavor from the skillet to the cornbread.
I love Noodle! And I love Molly too. And I will never over-swirl myself again.
That cornbread!!! You had me at ricotta. x