Professor Butter Beard and the “Yellow Corn Maiden”
“Plough deep while Sluggards sleep;
And you shall have Corn, to sell and to keep.”
- Benjamin Franklin in “Poor Richard’s Almanac”
“Aren’t you a cornfed boy!” I’ve heard it all my life. Finally, I’ve grown to embrace it as a midwestern compliment. As much as I claim my Scottish heritage, I also embody the heart and soul of a lad bred in the cornfields of Ohio. There were always corn muffins on the supper table at my grandmother’s big house. The white ceramic pot would be filled with salted water and lifted to center stage on top of the stove, and I would wait to hear how many ears to go pick from the garden and shuck on the front porch swing. The day I turned fifteen, my fearless friends taught me to drive on the dirt paths between the cornfield rows and shortly thereafter, I lost my….. between those same rows on one hot July night. Let’s face it. I have corn milk in my veins.
Throughout all the Native American cultures, there have been numerous versions of the tale of the “Corn Maidens.” But they all center around the appreciation of the gift of corn as a main food source from the Great Spirit. In the beginning, when the Great Spirit granted life to the universe, it created all things of this earth for its inhabitants with the intention that they would share equally its beauty and become a part of the cycle of life. For man to better understand these gifts of life, the Great Spirit lovingly provided many representations of its love and power through nature.
The Corn Maidens are said to have been a necessity created by the Great Spirit in the palm of its right hand. The maidens were charged with presenting each clan with one single seed of corn. They were to explain that this seed would give them all that they would need. Each seed was planted and watched over with hope by the clan members. As the Corn Maiden sang her song of faith and love, the people were touched and began to feel this love in their hearts. Soon, the seed emerged from the soil, slender and fragile like an infant. With guidance from the wind, the sun and the moon, and the clan’s touch, prayers and love, it grew tall and strong. The mature ears of corn began to appear, and the Corn Maidens were released to move forward, remaining with the clans in spirit only.
The artist Sandipa Gould has traveled extensively exploring the art of ancient cultures, studying artistic expression and techniques in Europe, Scandinavia, Crete, Greece, Egypt, North Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, Nepal, India, Thailand, Persia and Afghanistan. She exhibits her paintings in Australia, New Zealand and in Santa Fe, and her works are in numerous private collections internationally. She currently creates her art in her studio near Melbourne in the Central Highlands of Victoria, a country place she shares with Sambodhi Prem who fills the space with wonderful music as she paints.
She writes: “To me the visual language of painting is a silent way to express the natural world in color, form and energy. When painting, I like to be present in an intuitive world of flow, a kind of balanced spontaneity, riding on the wings of creativity. Art is a form of meditation for me and has deepened my creativity and what remains is a space of wonderment. I try to bring into form some quality that sustains and nurtures humanity – things like love, trust and beauty.”
I understand. Baking provides me that same meditation. This morning, as the sun rose after two days of steamy rain, it was the call of cornbread that danced in my daybreak dreams. We cornfed bakers of Ohio like our cornbread sweet. It’s interesting that as you travel further south in the states, the less sweet the recipe becomes. My version varies with my moods. Sometimes spiced hot with cayenne and fresh jalapenos. Sometimes soothingly herbal with basil, rosemary or fresh mint. And, sometimes surprising with ripe blueberries, raspberries or mandarin oranges.
My hope is that this inspires you to experiment and share in the Corn Maiden’s gift. As Garrison Keillor famously said: “Sex is good, but not as good as fresh sweet corn.”
Sweet Rosemary Cornbread
16 Mini Loaves
3 cups coarse cornmeal, toasted and cooled
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 ½ Tbsp fresh rosemary leaves
4 tsp baking powder
1 ½ tsp fine sea salt
½ tsp chili powder
½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
3 cups buttermilk, room temperature
½ cup canola oil
3 large eggs, room temperature
3 Tbsp unsalted butter
3 Tbsp local honey
1) Toast the cornmeal in a non-stick skillet until darkened in color and aromatic. Set aside to cool completely.
2) Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Set the two mini-loaf pans in the oven to preheat as well.
3) In a spice grinder (I use my coffee bean grinder), grind together the two Tbsps sugar with the rosemary leaves.
4) In a medium bowl, whisk together the all-purpose flour, the remaining cup of the sugar, the rosemary sugar, the baking powder, salt, chili powder, black pepper and cooled cornmeal.
5) In a smaller bowl, whisk together the three eggs, the oil and the buttermilk.
6) Create a well in the dry mix, add the wet and gently fold together with a spatula until no lumps remain.
7) Remove the hot pans from the oven, lightly spray with baking spray and portion the batter into the pans filling each mini loaf to just below the brim.
8) Bake for fifteen minutes, rotate the pans, and bake for another eight to ten minutes until the tops are cracked and golden.
9) While the loaves bake, melt together the butter and honey.
10) Remove the pans from the oven, let sit for five minutes and then brush the tops of the loaves with the honey butter. Let cool another five minutes and then remove the loaves from the pan to cool completely on a wire rack.
“Corn field, near Chillicothe, Ohio,” photograph by OZinOH, curtesy of “flickr.”
