A DELICACY WORTH DEBATING
Johnny cakes, jonny cakes, Johnnycakes, jonnycakes, journey cakes, jonikens, Shawnee cakes, hoecakes, hoe cakes, ashcakes, battercakes, corn cakes, Indian slapjacks
Before you heat the griddle for a batch of johnnycakes, take the mandatory field trip to Gray’s Grist Mill in Adamsville, a small village on the westernmost boundary of Newport County, Rhode Island. It is likely that there has been a mill at this site on the west branch of the Westport River since 1700. Adamsville is quiet, bucolic, and everyone, above all the mallards swimming near the millpond dam, seems to like it that way.
The most industrious person in the village is without a doubt the affable miller. Thornton Owen Simmons hefts 50-pound sacks of corn kernels to pour the “grist” into a wooden hopper. Next, he shakes the "damsel," a vertical rod used to coax the kernels downward through the "shoe.” Grinding at a tranquil pace, it takes about an hour to turn three bushels of hard, dry kernels into a soft, silky meal. Simmons uses only Rhode Island-grown whitecap flint corn in accordance with the edict issued by the Society for the Propagation of the Jonnycake (their version has no h) Tradition in Rhode Island. The lamentably disbanded association decreed that a true johnnycake is made with this obsolete strain of eight-row Indian maize only. Gray’s Grist Mill is supplied with flint corn grown by a farmer in Exeter, Rhode Island, who ships it “shelled,” meaning husked and removed from the cob.
Working to the rotating rhythm of the 15-inch thick, 1½-ton granite millstones, Simmons says, “You can hear the sound of the water rushing through the sluiceway when I open the gate. This was built as a water-powered mill, but now we have a silent electric motor turning the stones.” The miller distributes Gray’s cornmeal by mail order directly to customers in towns and cities throughout the country, including Fairbanks, Alaska. He even has celebrity patrons. The late Julia Child was a fan of Gray’s and one of the miller’s treasured possessions is a letter that America’s chef-extraordinaire wrote praising their “Rhode Island polenta.”
Once you have a sack of historically accurate cornmeal, which in colonial-era cookbooks is called Indian meal, you are half way to johnnycake heaven.
Cook's Tip Traditionally milled corn contains none of the preservatives found in store bought grains, so keep it refrigerated to preserve freshness.
Here comes the real challenge: Deciding which johnnycake recipe you like and making up your mind how to serve them. At Bishop’s 4th Diner in Newport, johnnycakes are a staple on the menu. Owners Steve and Nancy Bishop estimate that the kitchen goes through a 50-pound sack of Kenyon’s Johnnycake Mix in about three weeks. Kenyon’s mix is made in an historic 19th century mill in Usquepaugh, Rhode Island and, for the record, contains corn from local and out-of-state farms.
“I add one egg per gallon of batter, and use the ingredients Kenyon’s suggests … a pinch of salt, a little sugar, hot water,” says Bishop. “The trick is use butter on the griddle or pan, and make sure it’s hot. Hot so the edges brown just a little bit.” Bishop’s commercial-grade grill is a sizzling 400o and, like the diner itself, the thin johnnycakes are classic. A serving of three 6-inch round johnnycakes is topped with a pat of butter. Nancy Bishop says, “I think whether or not to eat them with maple syrup is more of a generation thing. I always bring a pitcher of syrup to the table … just in case … and it’s always the old-timers who glare at me and tell me to take it away.”
Like everyone in the state, miller Simmons has his unique take on the recipe. He fries the cakes in a bit of corn oil, and is not fussy about which kind of pan or griddle he uses as long as it is hot. “We have a great piece of documentary film here that shows John Hart, the old miller who worked here most of his life. He is seen cooking up a batch of johnnycakes on a cook stove using a little aluminum non-stick pan and an ordinary plastic spatula.” Obviously, for Hart the secret to great taste was his flaky-textured, chemical-free cornmeal not the cookware.
Johnnycake purists might want to skip this part: Simmons, who is as Yankee as they come with family ties to American soil since 1621, not only eats his johnnycakes with maple syrup, he also sells Rhode Island Grade A maple syrup at the mill store to go with his “neither thick or thin” version of the batter.
So, whose cornmeal tastes best? Whose johnnycakes are authentic? In 1939, the Rhode Island Federation of Women’s Clubs came up with a brilliant plan to solve the recipe controversy once and for all. According to Early American Society author Carol McCabe, the ladies held a johnnycake contest. More than one thousand entries were submitted. Result? Gee, take a wild guess.
You can visit the interpretive exhibits at the mill and buy cornmeal and specialty pancake mixes Tuesdays through Sundays from noon to 4 p.m., June through December. Most weekend afternoons, you can see the mill in operation. Less than a century ago, you might have bartered farm produce or factory-made goods with the miller for your cornmeal. Not anymore -- bring $4.99 for a one pound sack. Gray's Grist Mill, 638 Adamsville Road, Adamsville, on the Massachusetts-Rhode Island state line.
While many miller may scoff, some members of the old school insist that the best johnnycakes are made with cornmeal that has been stone-milled – because they say there is a certain flavor that comes from the infinitesimal amounts of pulverized granite incorporated into the meal during the grinding process. Then, there are those who maintain that the cornfield has to be located a minimal distance from the ocean -- because there is a nuance of sea salt in every kernel that they say comes from the soil and the atmosphere.
In the 1999 paperback book Wind Grist Mills and Jonnycakes, Bill, one of the voices in the narrative explains why you shouldn’t worry about wearing down your teeth from eating stone ground cornmeal, “Any little chips that might pop off the [mill] stones are sifted out before they get to the bag and the granite dust that does get in is inconsequential. I’ve probably eaten a hundred times more sand and dirt from spinach and lettuce than from jonnycakes and corn muffins.” Mrs. Peabody, another one of the voices in the narrative tells how often she ate johnnycakes, “We had them at least once a day, and many times, twice a day. They were a substitute for bread really. They were served in place of potatoes, too. Johnnycakes with creamed tuna or chipped beef are especially good.”-- -- by Robert Sisson Chase, raised on a farm in Middletown, RI
RECIPES (first 4 from Gray’s)
THIN johnnycakes
Take quantity of corn meal required. Add a little salt. Wet with milk, thin it down with cold milk. Fry on a hot griddle.
THICK johnnycakes
Take quantity of corn meal required. Add a little salt. Scald with boiling water to make a stiff batter. Add a small amount of milk. Fry on a hot griddle.
Neither Thick Nor Thin -- The Miller’s Recipe
1 cup stone ground white cornmeal
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1 cup boiling water
4 tablespoons to ½ cup milk
Mix the three dry
ingredients in a bowl. Add boiling water. To thin batter, stir in milk one
tablespoon at a time. Drop by the tablespoonful into a well-greased and hot (375o) griddle. Cook on each side until golden brown.
Newport County Style Johnnycakes
1 cup johnnycake meal ½ teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon sugar 1 cup milk 1 cup water
Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl. Add the milk and water, and mix thoroughly. Grease a large skillet with butter, margarine, or bacon fat, and place over moderate heat. Pour a few tablespoons of batter into the skillet to form a cake 2 to 3 inches wide. Fry until the edges of the johnnycakes are brown, then flip. Keep the batter thin, adding more milk as necessary. Serve with lots of butter and maple syrup.
From The First American Cookbook, 1796, by Amelia Simmons
Indian Slapjack
One quart of milk, one pint of Indian meal, 4 eggs, 4 fpoons of flour, little falt, beat together, baked in griddles, or fry in a dry pan, or which has been rub’d with fuet, lard or butter.
