Рецепт Gluten Free Cornbread
I used to take my pets to this veterinarian. She also happened to be my coworker. We also made a habit out of training for marathons and half marathons together. Obviously, we spent a lot of hours in each others company.
Since we both are particularly chatty types, there were lots of stories exchanged. After many of my comments, Bec would say, “Oh, to be a fly on the wall in your house to hear the conversations you have.” I took it as a compliment. Maybe it wasn’t??
So, Bec, this one’s for you!
I was out on a long run this morning. I had a goal of reaching a certain stop sign that I knew was 6.55 miles away from my house, making it the perfect half marathon distance. I started thinking about breaking the run up into a series of shorter milestones so that it was easier to handle mentally.
So I thought, I’ll just run halfway to the stop sign. When I get to that point, I’ll just run half the distance remaining. And when I get to that point, I’ll just run half the distance remaining again.
And, all of the sudden, I had this vision in my head:
You know it. I know it. It is our friend, the asymptote. The curve gets closer and closer and closer to this boundary (the asymptote) but it never touches it. Just imagine taking the distance from the curve to the boundary and halving it, and halving it, and halving it. It gets infinitely close to the line but never touches it.
And I was thinking about me getting infinitely closer to my goal stop sign. And thinking about how frustrating it is. I’m going to keep going and keep going, and just like the curve, I’ll never reach the goal.
And then I passed the stop sign. And my brain exploded.
Well, not really, but seriously. It sounds so accurate in theory. I can never truly reach the stop sign just like the curve never truly reaches the asymptote. But I did. So when theory says I can’t make it work, I do. Quite empowering, no?
And then as quickly as I entered into the great beyond of analytical geometry and realms of infinity, I was back to reality and thinking, “God help me if I ever have so many horses as to need this much hay.”
I’ve got no connection between this story and the recipe I’m sharing. The truth is, I didn’t want to share the recipe for gluten free cornbread. I quickly snapped a photograph before I served it along side chili to my best friends and my husband as we sat around our campfire carving pumpkins.
The picture isn’t so good. But my friend has recently eliminated gluten from her life and was craving bread. Obviously, I’m up to the challenge of making gluten free anything. Or anything difficult.
As you can tell from the photo, the cornbread is more crumbly than a normal recipe. But the flavor was great. And I told my friend that I wasn’t sure I could share the recipe without a decent photo. She gave me a hug and said, “Branny. People like me need to know about this recipe.” So, here it is: Gluten Free Cornbread. And a picture of our pumpkins.
Gluten Free Cornbread (from Gluten Free Mommy)
Ingredients
- 1 cup white rice flour
- 3/4 cup stone-ground cornmeal
- 3 Tablespoons of sugar
- 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 Tablespoon butter
- 2 beaten eggs
- 1 cup milk
- 1/4 cup melted butter
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Mix the dry ingredients (flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt) together in a medium bowl and set aside.
Melt the one tablespoon of butter in a 10 inch cast-iron skillet or 8/9 inch round baking pan in the oven.
Swirl the butter around the pan coating the bottom and sides.
In a small bowl, combine the eggs, milk, and 1/4 cup butter.
Add this mixture all at once to the flour mixture and stir until just moistened.
Pour batter into the hot skillet or baking pan. Bake for 18 minutes or until a wooden toothpick comes out clean. Serve warm.
Preparation time: 5 minute(s)
Cooking time: 20 minute(s)