Polenta chips: 'There's a reason Nigella uses this stuff'
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Version 0 of 1. Following on from yesterday’s breadfruit chip and Tuesday’s rather leftfield option – the porridge chip – comes the most popular alternative of all, the well-documented polenta chip, voted for by many (Pasternak, AndyCh, tricky1992000, CeilingCat, littlebounce, Unobtanium) and much enjoyed by myself when made by someone else’s hand in Italy last summer. Already, this chip is in good shape. Another thing going for it is that it’s made in an almost identical way – heat the mix, cool, cut slab, fry – to the current leader of the pack, the chickpea chip. Shopping: I seem to have accumulated three very different types of polenta at home, and in the interests of mindless kitchen order, decanted them all into Ikea containers so that I have no idea what the merits of each are. In the interests of a fair experiment I head out for more. I purchase a sack of coarse yellow polenta for the job, imagining that it’ll make for an interesting textured chip. Method: If you’re looking to cut up a cooled slab of polenta, to form the solid base of a meal, the tried and tested ratio is three parts liquid to one part flour. Many suggest making polenta with stock but I’m looking to make a subtly flavoured chip that tastes of its raw ingredient and works well as a demure accompaniment. I boil my water in a saucepan and slowly tip the grain in, ferociously stirring all the while to guarantee my chip fodder is smooth. As soon as I have a thick custard that pulls away from the sides I pour the mix into a parchment-lined baking tray and leave it to cool at room temperature. Easy to chop into chip form, I make these quite slim. As soon as they’re in the oil they cling to each other, so that I’m left watching several clumps while wondering if a mere dusting of flour could have stood in the way of such tenacity? Luckily as they crisp up they part ways, aided by a couple of prods. Verdict: Polenta chips deserve extra points for their luminosity alone. They were yellow when they went into the oil, but they’re positively fluorescent by the time they get out. Then comes the texture – there is a reason Nigella coats her roasties with this stuff – they have a distressed, grainy, crispy coat that protects a silky centre. The corn flavour is pronounced, and it’s most welcome. Not only is this a fantastic burger accompaniment, I suspect it would shine inside a chip butty – both visually, and in terms of flavour. It’s deservedly a winner this week, and takes its place right behind the chickpea chip. Score: 4.5/5 |