All Roads Lead to Polenta
Tatiana Chihai
Have you ever thought about the origins of your favorite dish? The history and memories it carries, the generations that shaped it, and how it became what it is today? The story begins with the golden grain, corn, brought back to Europe by Columbus after his expedition to the New World, which played a transformative role in shaping the culinary traditions of many European cultures. Among the most notable legacies of this introduction are two beloved dishes: Moldovan mămăliga and Italian polenta. Both dishes, while rooted in similar ingredients and preparation methods, have evolved into cultural symbols that reflect the unique histories and identities of their regions. Mămăliga, a staple in Moldovan cuisine, carries with it the weight of historical struggles, from famine to the hardships of Soviet rule, while Italian polenta has transitioned from a symbol of poverty to a celebrated culinary masterpiece. The rich cultural significance and variations of mămăliga and polenta illustrate how two dishes with common beginnings can evolve into distinct symbols of national identity and pride.
The journey of mămăliga starts after Columbus returned from his expedition to America and brought corn back to Europe, “The explorers returned to Europe with Native American products for trade, including tobacco, potatoes, corn, and chocolate.” Northrup et al. (2004) This was one of the first and most important gifts that America offered to Europe’s medieval civilizations. The people on the expeditions had to eat the corn because they had no other options. Initially, those on the old continent found it useless and disgusting. However, over time, they discovered that it could be tasty and nutritious when mixed with other grains. The high starch content in corn made cooled porridge slice nicely, serving as a substitute for bread and being much easier to prepare, as it did not require the long hours of bread-making. Europeans at first called it “mays,” but then everyone gave each their own name. “When maize reached Europe it was called mays or maizium, but on spreading to different countries it received a name in each language.“ Bonavia, D. (2013, pag.18). Moldovan polenta or mǎmǎligǎ as we Romanians call it, is a simple, unpretentious dish that requires little effort to prepare, yet it fills you up generously and provides the comforting warmth of a fireplace. Now, I do not know how Moldovans first encountered corn. What I do know is that polenta made with corn is the most popular dish in Moldovan cuisine. I can assume that they were not initially impressed by it, as what makes polenta delicious are the sides served with it. Mămăliga holds a special place in every Moldovan’s heart. It has been a loyal companion through the most challenging times: war, famine, and the long years of Soviet rule when store shelves were empty. Through it all, Moldovans had a gift that no one could take from them—their land and the hands that knew how to work it. With little more than what they could grow in their gardens and the products of the animals they kept, they often dreamed of store-bought food as something luxurious, feeling ashamed and poor because they couldn’t afford it.
Mămăligă-eater has always been a term used by others pejoratively and it has become somewhat of a stigma. We always dreamed of being posh Europeans and, as such, the poor peasant, with his mămăligă and opinci, embarrassed us, made us uncomfortable and made us forget who we truly are. (Bărbulescu, 2023, pag. 168)
I want to believe that Moldovans were the most inspired when it came to choosing what to serve alongside mămăliga on a plate. One of my favorites is slow-cooked pork, seasoned with salt and pepper, served with feta cheese and sour cream. Moldovan people are reticent about making changes or creating their own versions of a dish. For centuries, they have stubbornly reproduced polenta in the same traditional, medieval way. In my childhood, my mom would make a ball out of polenta, somehow filling it with some of the side dishes mentioned above and call it “baby bear.” We would devour that delicious ball in seconds and ask for more. I cannot overlook the whole fried fish, caramelized onions, or raw minced garlic as other excellent additions for polenta. The leftover from a big polenta makes for a consistent and delicious breakfast. Thinly sliced and dipped in egg wash, fried in butter until it gets a crunchy crust on the outside. My favorite part is to put a slice of cheese on it and let it slightly melt from the heat of the polenta slice. Despite its simplicity, polenta is always enjoyed at holiday tables and simple family dinners. Its comforting nature and rich history make it both satisfying and fulfilling.
There is a saying in Italy that attests to the national significance of polenta being good for four things: to make soup, to make bread, to fill you up, and to warm your hands. In the south and middle of the country, Italians eat mainly pasta and bread, but in the north, they prefer rice and polenta. Polenta is so widespread there that northern Italians are sometimes called “polentoni”, which is translated as polenta-eaters, Secci (2019, para.1) “polentoni (people who eat a lot of polenta, disparaging for Norther Italians).” Polenta’s history in Italy dates back to ancient times, though its form and ingredients have changed over the centuries. Originally, polenta was made from grains like millet, spelt, or farro and was a staple food for the Romans. The introduction of corn to Europe in the 16th century, following the Columbian Exchange, marked a significant turning point in the history of polenta, as corn quickly became the primary ingredient for polenta. The widespread cultivation of corn made polenta a cheap and accessible food source, especially for the peasant population, Pedrotti et al. (2024, para.2) note that “this dish…carries a profound historical association with times of famine and hunger.” It became a dietary staple, often eaten in place of bread. In the centuries that followed, polenta remained a symbol of poverty and sustenance for the rural poor. It was often served plain or with simple accompaniments like milk, cheese, or vegetables. In her book, Finding Valentino: Four Seasons in My Father’s Italy, Angela Di Sciascio (2011, p.101) mentions her father’s memories about polenta “To this day, he can’t even look at a plate of polenta; it reminds him too much of poverty and of times when things were so tough they couldn’t eat pasta.” Despite its simple origins, polenta eventually gained wider acceptance across different social classes and became a celebrated dish in Italian gastronomy. Today, polenta is no longer confined to the kitchens of the poor but is embraced by Italians of all backgrounds. It has become a versatile dish, served in various forms, from rustic to refined. The ways of serving polenta vary greatly depending on regional traditions and culinary creativity. Sciascio (2024, p. 60), describes the most popular way to serve polenta in Bergamo, “the most famous dish in Bergamo is polenta with birds and this is the clever way they capture them. The birds fly through the small windows … where the hunters catch them ready for the kitchen.” To my surprise, Italians have even found creative ways to transform leftover polenta into desserts, crafting cakes, puddings, and crackers from this versatile staple. Polenta’s journey from simple peasant food to a celebrated dish in Italian cuisine reflects the broader social and cultural evolution of Italy. Its adaptability and versatility have allowed it to still be a beloved part of the Italian culinary tradition, enjoyed in a variety of forms across the country. Whether served soft and creamy, grilled, and crispy, or even as a dessert, polenta continues to hold a special place in the hearts and kitchens of Italians.
Moldovan mămăliga and Italian polenta are two beloved dishes from distinct cultures, both prepared in a similar way and immensely popular with locals and visitors alike, though only one has achieved worldwide fame. Polenta is most commonly made from a variety of corn called eight-row flint, or “ottofile” in Italian. This heirloom variety produces a porridge that is rich in both color and flavor. In contrast, mămăliga is made with simple corn, often left to dry completely in a barn, waiting for the cold winter days when its warmth and comfort are most appreciated. Polenta porridge has a mushy and soft consistency, while mămăliga is known for its firm texture, often taking the shape of the round-bottom pot in which it is cooked and can be easily sliced. Both dishes trace their origins to the expeditions of Columbus, who brought corn back from the New World. While Italy can be considered the birthplace of polenta, Moldova borrowed the recipe and adapted the preparation process to suit its own traditions. Mămăliga is an unpretentious dish widely consumed in Moldova, though not often showcased with pride. The memory of years of famine and hardship, when even corn was scarce, has left a mark on the collective consciousness, causing people to disassociate this dish from comfort and peace. According to Bărbulescu (2023), the term “mămăligă-eater” has historically carried a negative connotation, contributing to a stigma. As Moldovans aspired to adopt a more European identity, the image of the poor farmers, associated with mămăliga and traditional footwear, became a source of embarrassment, distancing them from their true cultural roots. Meanwhile, polenta is a dish that Italy is famously known for, with many variations in how it is served. It is displayed worldwide in prestigious Michelin-starred restaurants, standing as a testament to Italian cuisine.
The journey of mămăliga and polenta shows how food is deeply connected to history and culture. Both dishes are made from the same grain brought to Europe by Columbus, but they evolved in separate ways, shaped by the unique traditions of Moldova and Italy. This journey highlights the importance of understanding distinct cultures and how similar beginnings can lead to diverse outcomes. Working on this essay I have learned to appreciate how food reflects in the history and experiences of people. By exploring the roots of mămăliga and polenta, we honor their past and open the door to a greater appreciation of cultural diversity. We can still do it by continuing to explore the stories behind our favorite dishes and celebrating the richness of global culinary traditions. By doing so, we honor the past but also cultivate appreciation for the shared human experiences that unite us all.
References
Bărbulescu, C. (2023). Transimperial Recipes for a Romanian National Dish. Philobiblon, 28(1), 167-171. https://www.proquest.com/docview/2833247461accountid=1553&sourcetype=Scholarly%20Journals
Bonavia, D. (2013). Maize: Origins, Domestications, and Its Role in The Development of Culture (1st ed.) 18-19. Cambridge University Press.https://sbctc-lwtech.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01STATEWA_LWTC/1b1j6b7/alma991000211115202814
Northrup, C. C. et al. (2004). Encyclopedia of World Trade: from Ancient Times to the Present: From Ancient Times to the Present, 52-53. Taylor & Francis Group https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/lwtclearningcommons-ebooks/detail.action?docID=2011181
Sciascio, A. D. (2011). Finding Valentino: Four seasons in my father’s Italy (1st ed.). Victory Books, 60-101. https://sbctclwtech.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01STATEWA_LWTC/1b1j6b7/alma991000237747902814
Secci, L. (2019, September 6). Polentoni and Terroni. Piamonlus. https://piamonlus.org/en/reception-en/polentoni-and-terroni/