So, the other day, I was really in the mood for some majarete. You know, that creamy, sweet corn pudding? Man, it just hits different. It’s not something I make all the time, because, let’s be honest, it takes a little bit of patience. But when the craving hits, you just gotta do it.
Getting Started with the Corn
First things first, the corn. Now, a lot of folks will tell you that you absolutely must use fresh corn, cut right off the cob. And yeah, that’s probably the gold standard. But let me tell you, sometimes life gets in the way. I’ve used good quality canned corn, the whole kernel kind, and it’s turned out just fine. My grandma might roll over in her grave, but hey, it works. For this time, I actually had some frozen corn kernels in the freezer, so that’s what I went with. About five cups, I reckon.
I let them thaw out a bit, then into the blender they went. I added a little bit of the milk that was going into the recipe anyway, just to help it blend smoother. My blender, it’s not the fanciest, so it needs a bit of help sometimes. You want this stuff really smooth, like a puree. No chunky bits allowed, not for proper majarete.
The Straining and Mixing Ritual
Okay, this next part is what separates the good majarete from the, well, not-so-good. You gotta strain that corn puree. I use a fine-mesh sieve, some people use cheesecloth. Whatever you use, don’t skip this. It gets rid of all that tough skin and fiber from the corn. You’re left with this super smooth, milky corn liquid. It takes a bit of pushing and scraping with a spatula, but it’s worth the effort. Trust me on this one.
Once I had my silky corn liquid, it was time to add the other good stuff. Into a pot it went, along with:
- Milk – I used whole milk, about 4 cups. Some folks use evaporated milk or coconut milk too, which sounds pretty good.
- Sugar – about a cup, but taste it. You might like it sweeter or less sweet.
- A pinch of salt. Yeah, salt! It just makes the sweet taste better.
- Cinnamon! A good stick of cinnamon goes into the pot. And some ground cinnamon too, maybe half a teaspoon.
- Some people add a splash of vanilla, or a star anise. I kept it simple this time.
The Cooking Dance – Low and Slow
Alright, now for the cooking. This is where the patience really comes in. You put the pot on a medium-low heat. And you stir. And stir. And keep stirring. Seriously, don’t walk away to check your phone or anything. This stuff can stick to the bottom of the pot and burn before you know it. I learned that the hard way a long time ago. What a mess that was!
It’ll look pretty liquidy at first, but slowly, as it heats up, it’ll start to thicken. You’re looking for it to get to the consistency of a thick custard or a loose pudding. It should coat the back of your spoon. This usually takes me about 20-25 minutes, sometimes a bit longer. Just keep that heat gentle and your stirring arm moving.
Once it’s nice and thick, I fish out the cinnamon stick. Don’t want anyone biting into that later.
Cooling Down and The Best Part
Then, you pour it into whatever you want to serve it in. I like using small individual ramekins, makes it feel a bit fancy. But a shallow glass dish works great too. I carefully poured the hot majarete into my little bowls.
Now, another waiting game. It needs to cool down on the counter for a bit, then into the fridge for at least a few hours. Majarete is best served cold. That’s just the rule. It firms up even more as it chills.
Before serving, the most important final touch: a generous sprinkle of ground cinnamon on top. You just can’t have majarete without that cinnamon dusting. It’s a must.
And that’s it, really. My latest batch turned out pretty darn good. Smooth, sweet, with that lovely corn flavor and the warmth of cinnamon. Took me right back. It’s not a complicated recipe, just needs a bit of love and attention. Definitely worth the effort when that craving calls.
