WESTPORT – So much of the magic in sitting down to savor an artisanal food lies in the knowledge that obtaining it involved some sort of quest. Take cornmeal. Those looking for the type that can transform breakfast into a religious experience know it can’t be found this side of the Rhode Island border. It turns out that it can, though, about 100 feet inside that border, now that Gray’s Grist Mill has opened it doors once more. Technically situated in Westport Mass., but often assumed to be part of neighboring Adamsville, RI, Gray’s sits just beyond tiny village intersection, across from the pond that drove it millstones for the better part of three centuries. Eventually, progress, in the form of engines borrowed from an old Dodge truck and a tractor, intervened and took over the task of powering the mill. But that came long after the mill had established itself as a purveyor of the special cornmeal favored by locals for use in johnnycakes, those more sensible ancestors of contemporary pancakes.
When the last miller retired in 1998, taking with him his tractor, the mill owner closed Gray’s until a new miller and power source could be found, Owner Ralph Guild found his answer in Thornton Simmons, a laconic local who uses an heirloom variety of organic white cap flint corn grown and dried on a nearby farm, The milling process is open to visitors curious to see the enormous granite millstones in motion; indeed, the owner bills the mill as an “educational demonstration center.” Weekends are the best time to catch Simmons milling, before walking to the adjoining sun-filled little shop to pick up a bag of the fresh meal. Visitors can also shop for cast-iron skillet to fry up their jonnycakes, or browse through books on loc history and regional cooking…
“Is your cornmeal fresh?” and out-of- towner demanded brusquely when she popped her head into the doorway on recent morning. Simmons nodded slowly, telling her it had been ground a day or two before on the premises. It’s so fresh, in fact, that Simmons says that far-afield customers he’s seen included an Amish couple from Pennsylvania who showed up one day eager to stock up.
Those who follow that lead will find, upon returning to their kitchens, that they’ve brought home from their journey the promise of all the light and crunchy waffles, pancakes, and corn muffins that can be gobbled down on a crisp morning.
Camela Zarcone
Boston Globe November 10, 2002
