“Wait, the milk comes out of there?!” 

I always love witnessing a good shocking moment of dairy realization. It doesn’t happen every time, but often there is at least one kid who gets their mind blown during a school tour of our dairy farm. Depending on their age level and type of exposures they’ve received, they may not have had any reason to suspect that milk is not actually produced and harvested in gallon plastic jugs like they see at the grocery store and in their fridge. 

I mean, to be fair, apples get picked as apples and blueberries grow as blueberries, so why should milk be any different?

The looks on those sweet faces as the kids reach a new level of understanding about the world – the milk they drink coming out of those pink things hanging down off a cow’s belly – is always priceless, though it varies from amusement to astonishment to sheer disgust. A deeper position of maturity has been reached, never to be repealed; one doesn’t just forget knowledge like that. 

It is so funny to me that kids can be so shocked by something so obvious to me, yet I found myself in a similar situation recently; a clear reminder that I may not be as impervious to such food production naïveté as I might think. 

I was on the phone, making a call to a friend of a friend, in search of locally produced cornmeal to use in a farm-to-table dinner I was catering for. As she described how she got ahold of local field corn to grind, I had my own shocking moment of realization. “Hold on, my husband grows corn … and I have a grinder ….” 

I was today years old when I learned cornmeal comes from corn. 

Yes, yes, I did already know that. But somehow, as sheepish as I feel admitting it; it had never quite clicked that I could just make my own. 

It’s a good time of year to make that discovery, as corn harvest is (at least trying to be) under way. Brian brought me a little bucket of deep yellow corn kernels, scooped out of the combine hopper; I washed and sloshed them in a bowl of water, picking out a few fibrous pieces of cob material here and there. (Meanwhile, the kids used the corn left in the bucket as golden missiles — oh look, there’s still a kernel behind my desk.) I cupped the kernels out with my hands, spreading them to dry overnight on a towel. The next morning, I scooped two cups into my dry grinder, and blasted that corn into, you guessed it: cornmeal! 

I adjusted the grind to be a not-too-fine, polenta size, since I was going to be making grits, and there turned out to be a lovely little variation in color in the pieces. When cooked, the taste was subtly sweet and of course corny, with this lovely texture and chew. Grits that didn’t need to rely on their flavor coming from butter and cheese…although I still used copious amounts of them, because butter.

Dairy products that came from there plus cornmeal that came from there: a discovery worth making.

Baked Golden Grits

Whether you’re using freshly-milled cornmeal or normal-person store-bought, it’s all made from corn so you still win! I have to give a hearty nod to my Southern roots every now and then with a pot of good ol’ cheesy grits, but I have never eaten so many grits with such alacrity – these were so delicious, yet so simple to make. Serve as a side, as a base to a stew or sauce, or as breakfast.

Prep tips: I did use homemade mozzarella, but you can substitute regular mozz or really just your favorite cheese (pepperjack adds a lovely little kick, parmesan adds rich depth, etc). 

• 4 cups water

• 1 cup [freshly ground or not] medium yellow grits 

• 1 teaspoon salt

• a hearty pinch of pepper and a dash of cayenne

• 4 ounces diced fresh mozzarella

• 2 tablespoons butter

• milk as necessary

Stir water, grits, salt, and pepper together. Bake in a shallow dish at 375° for 45-60 min, until grains are tender and the dish is thickened. Whisk in cheese and butter until smooth and creamy, adding milk if needed to get the texture you desire.

Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives in rural Reno County on the family dairy farm with her husband and two small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Send feedback and recipe ideas to hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.