A Failed Experiment...

...or, why I'm glad my mother doesn't read this.

Is there anything that would make a fine Italian cook mutter underneath her breath more than the pairing of the words instant and polenta? [Well, yes, there are, but for blogological purposes, let's pretend there aren't any others. Like Prego Sauce, for example.]

Last night I tried this. Why? I don't know. I get a wild hair and I have to go with it.

I slowly poured the polenta into the boiling water. But... how do you slowly pour anything? What does that even mean? Seriously. There is a gravity issue. And a steaming-water-in-your-face issue. Time is a relative thing, man.

So I pour the polenta into the water, trying to stir it, because while you're being slow about the pouring, you have to be diligent about the stirring. Multi-tasking! All I know is that in about three nanoseconds, the polenta became an unwieldy, glocky mass. I stirred, dammit. I stirred with all my girlish might, wishing I had done more preacher curls at the gym the night before. The polenta achieved the status of raw cement. I pushed more than I stirred.

I swore [distractedly]. I worried [abstractly]. I attempted to decant the polenta from the pot onto a pan. [Eek!] I can still see uncooked polenta! What is this demonic substance that it won't submit to six cups of boiling water and furious stirring?!

With some delusion of cooking, I continued to move the yellow devil to the pan.

I was exhausted. But hungry. Sort of. I was also kind of repulsed. A very strange combination indeed.

The whole pan thing was supposed to move into Phase Two where I would bake or grill [ha!] the polenta for even more culinary interest. Instead, the pan became the final resting ground.

I spooned. No. I carved some of the polenta and deposited that onto a plate. Charming. I proceeded to microwave [yes! microwave! I am going to Hell's Kitchen!] some mushrooms and poured some sauce [jarred!] onto the polenta. Then I grated some Locatelli onto all of this, the Locatelli being the only other respectable ingredient here besides the fresh mushrooms before they were humiliatingly microwaved.

All I can say is that my options are two: wait for the polenta to become a science experiment and toss it, or throw it away now.

Tonight? I will defrost a pizza, thank you very much.