slapjack. When he and the colonists were publicly jeered by a London Gazette journalist for eating food that could never afford “an agreeable breakfast,” ol' Ben planted the seeds of separatism by boldly rebutting, “Permit me, an American, to inform the British gentleman, who seems ignorant of the matter…that our johnny cake or hoe cake, hot from the fire, is better than a Yorkshire muffin.” Any day.
Spread some warm, melting butter and Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly on his beloved corn bread, and loyal Ben would have been talking revolution.
The destiny of a nation depends upon how and what they eat.
—Brillat-Savarin
Johnny Cake Corn Bread
Benjamin Franklin's favorite
1½ cups stone-ground cornmeal
1 cup unbleached flour
¼ cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 eggs
1 cup sour cream
½ cup milk
¼ cup margarine or butter, melted
⅔ cup creamed corn (or freshly cooked corn from the kernel)
Preheat oven to 400°F. In a large bowl and by hand, combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, sour cream, and milk. Pour this mixture into the dry mix and stir gently. Pour in the melted margarine and mix slightly. Fold in the creamed corn.
Pour the batter into a 10-inch, greased cast iron skillet. Bake for approximately 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. (You can also cook this batter “pancake style” in a stove top skillet to make authentic corn johnny cakes; cook each side of the johnny cake for a minute or two.) Makes 6 to 8 servings.
Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly
One 3½-ounce can jalapeño peppers
1 large bell pepper, seeded and sliced
One 4-ounce can chiles
1 cup white vinegar
6 cups white sugar
One 6-ounce package Certo™ pectin (use both pouches)
In a blender, blend together on high speed the two kinds of peppers, chiles, and vinegar. In a large saucepan over medium heat, combine the pepper blend with the sugar and stir until the sugar completely dissolves. Add the Certo pectin and bring to a rolling boil. Boil for 3 minutes, stirring constantly.
To preserve, pour the jelly into hot, sterilized jars and top with canning lids sealed with bands (see the Inside Line below). Store in a cool area and refrigerate after opening. Makes 6 half-pint jars of Barbara's zesty jelly.
THE INSIDE LINE
You skipped home ec class In high school? Here's a quick canning lesson from James Villas' The Town and Country Cookbook:
Unscrew ring bands from canning jars, remove lids; arrange jars in a large pot, and cover with water. Bring water to a boil, cover, and sterilize jars for 10 minutes. Remove jars from the water with clean tongs and pack (with Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly], taking care not to touch the insides of the [sterilized] jars. Wipe rims clean with paper towels. [Using the tongs] dip the sealing lids into the hot water used for sterilizing jars, [place lids on top of the filled jars] and screw ring bands on tightly.
Place the jars in a draft-free area until the lids “ping” and remain down when pushed with a finger [signs they are sterile].
Do not fret if the lid doesn't do its “ping thing” and remains convex; just store in the refrigerator and enjoy!
AND ALL THE PRESIDENTS' PANCAKES
Pancakes, a true American tradition, have made their mark throughout history. Thomas Jefferson was so smitten with his griddlecakes that accompanied his fried apples and bacon and eggs that he brought his governess to the White House from Monticello mainly because she had a magic touch at flipping the cakes.
President Andrew Jackson was partial to buckwheat-cornmeal flapjacks; Franklin D. Roosevelt swore by hot, buttered maple syrup on plain, fluffy pancakes; and Ike loved cornmeal johnny cakes smothered in light molasses. Even spendthrift Calvin Coolidge caught on to the power of the pancake and traditionally had low-cost buckwheat breakfast cakes served at morning meetings.
Mining for a Silver-Dollar Breakfast
Before Sam Clemens became Mark Twain, he was a cub reporter in the mining town of Virginia City, Nevada, writing for the local newspaper under the nom de plume “Josh.”
In his own words, Josh tells us what a real breakfast meant to him: “A mighty porterhouse steak an inch and a half thick, hot and sputtering from the grill; dusted with fragrant pepper; enriched with little melting bits of butter…archipelagoed with mushrooms…and a great cup of American homemade coffee…some smoking hot biscuits, and a plate of hot buckwheat [pan] cakes, with transparent syrup.…”
After the sun rose over the High Sierra, the young Mark Twain would head off to work and proceed to weave wonder-words with his trusty typewriter. His editor's only instructions were, “Write so damned well the miners will read the Enterprise before they drink their liquor, court their women, or dig their gold.” Which he did…after he ate his bonanza in pancakes.
Silver Dollar Slapjacks with Wild Blue Sauce
A favoritc of Mark Twain
Slapjacks
1 cup buttermilk
¼ cup milk
1 large egg, room temperature
2 tablespoons butter, melted, or canola oil
1 cup unbleached white flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
Nonstick canola oil cooking spray
Wild Blue Sauce
1½
