One of my favorite summahtime memories was in college. I got a job on a film set in Maryland for a few days and instead of flying, which they offered, I took it as an opportunity to go on a solo road-trip through the south.
It wasn’t too far, actually, maybe six or seven hours. And instead of opting for highway only, I went for the route that took me on a lot of one lane roads, running straight through a bunch of small towns in North Carolina and Virginia.
I packed a large sweet tea, made a super long mix-CD and filled up my Jetta.
Nothing crazy happened. I stopped off at a diner, had hoecakes and ate Western North Carolina BBQ. At dusk, fireflies helped light up the roads. I listened to music my parents did. But mostly I remember thinking that everyone seemed so happy and normal and maybe this whole idea of moving to Los Angeles to work in the film industry, which is inherently sort of abnormal, was maybe flawed. Maybe they had it right and I had it all wrong.
I love sweet corn ice cream. Have you had it before? It’s sweet…and corn-y tasting. I’m at a bit of loss for descriptor words, forgive me. But you know what I mean! Almost like sweet creamed corn but with the texture of ice cream.
This is very similar, except that the texture is like a really good creme brûlée. When I worked my first restaurant job, we had a really bad creme brûlée on the menu; I didn’t care because my job was to dust the tops with sugar and burn the sugar with a blow torch. I was totally content with my small little job! I found it fun and satisfying.
If you make this recipe, try and find the most beautiful corn you can find. I found this super fragrant and sweet bi-colored corn at the market and was impressed with how flavorful it was. It’s necessary for the step of infusing the cream with corn and the chopped up chunks of cob.
The cream and corn hang out together for 30 minutes or so. I recommend giving it a taste and letting it steep some more if you think it needs it.
And then it’s pretty much just like normal creme brûlée. Cream is heated and tempered with egg yolks so no scrambled eggs occur. There’s a division of the custard and then it’s all baked in a water bath for 30 minutes or so.
In another world, I’m a southern grandmother who’d love nothing more than to invite you into my rambling old house, offering sweet tea and using the persuasion of pie as a way to force you into listening to the stories of my youth. I’m probably dressed in a mumu, a floral mumu, and my house shoes are actually cute. And let’s be honest, I probably don’t have a corgi, but instead some sort of mangy, one-eyed lapdog. He’s cute.
If I did a good job and talked you into staying for dinner, there’d be some sort of salad with buttermilk ranch dressing and my absolute favorite…spoon bread. I love traditional-straight-up-no-twist spoon bread. It’s fluffy and custardy and if you make it at the right season (read: late summer), it’s sweet and rich. I love the addition of cheddar cheese and charred corn. But my absolute favorite is the sweet corn-spiked milk that is the base of this recipe. It makes it delicious. I mean, it’s practically drinkable.
If I did my job, you’ll want to make this dish in a mumu with rollers in your hair. I support this. Here’s the link on PBS Food.
Whenever it gets way too hot, I get all dramatic and say I want to eat popsicles for dinner, but that never really happens. The closest I get to eating a popsicle for dinner is eating a salad, which is exact opposite of a popsicle. This corn linguine with clams is like a bowl of coziness with lots of summer flavors going on. It exploits the season.
In other unrelated pasta news, I finished Orange Is The New Black and OMG I’m obsessed. Like every show I love, I wish I could re-watch it all over again from the beginning. I love how good the balance is between funny and dark moments. I like getting to know the characters, learning what they did to end up there, and I like that their stories are a mix of innocent and very guilty. If you haven’t watched it, you need to get on it!
I’m usually not a summer-lover, but this one has been pretty chill. I’m digging all the fish tacos around, the balsamic vinegar/watermelon salads popping up everywhere…and cold beer. Officially INTO IT. I’m also pretty obsessed with eating outside past 7pm, when the sun is no longer burning me and giving me wrinkles that I can’t see yet.
One of my fav street/summer foods is eloté, the Mexican grilled corn you can usually find on the side of the street here in Los Angeles (and in Mexico).
I’ve had this idea of turning it into a soup for a long time and finally got the big push yesterday when I was at the store and saw a sign that read, “20 cents for corn!” I mean, that’s it. Alright…
Muffin or cupcake? So many muffins skate that fine line between breakfast and dessert, am I right? Not mad at it. Not complaining…though some mornings I don’t want sweet. I don’t want dessert. I want something savory, delicious, cheesy and warm.
Enter: Goat Cheese Chive Corn Muffins.
Also!–don’t mean to be a debbie-downer on breakfast muffins–but sometimes I’m all psyched about making muffins, and so I do, and then I eat, like, two for breakfast and end up with a bunch leftover. Lame.
These muffins are pretty cool because they can dual as a breakfast snack or a dinner snack. Double-action muffins!
I spent this past weekend making homemade huaraches. I had some a few weeks ago and came home determined to make them by myself.
If you’re not familiar with them, let me lure you in. They’re made with an easy mixture of corn flour (masa), warm water and a dash of salt. After the dough rests you roll it into a cigar-like shape and create a cavity. THEN you spoon a bit of refried beans into the center and roll them out. Throw them on the griddle until brown and then finish them in some hot oil. They’re like this crispy, refried bean fried tortilla. The topping opportunities are endless; everything from carnitas to sauteed vegetables. Hi deliciousness!
Now that I’ve convinced you they’re awesome, I’ll let you know that there’s no huaraches recipe today.(SAD!) But I did have a bunch of corn flour leftover and figure I’d throw some in a batch of pancakes.
I wasn’t going to post it because, well, it might be the ugliest soup I’ve ever made. I usually like to share things that are pretty/cute/delicious. Not today, my friends!! Today I’m hurling nutritious, humble and necessary (for me anyway) your way.
My head is stuffed up, my nose is clogged, and my ears hurt (hello ear ache!). Yeah, I’m sick. UGH!
Growing up this is the soup my mama would make me to make things all better. So, this post comes straight from her mama heart through me. JUST like that scene at the end of Ghost, you know? When Whoopi let’s Patrick Swayze take over her body so Demi can get her last dance. JUST like that. So, basically this is my mom giving you this recipe (through me). Weird, right?
Labradoodles (Labrador + Poodle = super friendly genius type)
Puggles (Beagle + Pug = the smallest pile of cuteness ever)
Maltipoos (Maltese + Poodle = super smart small animal)
My recent hybrid obsession isn’t dog related at all. Surprisingly, I know. It’s a food hybrid and it’s been around for a really long time, and is about as American as baseball and Bruce Springsteen. Word on the street is that it was actually served morning, day and night at Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello Home. Fancy. It’s called:
Since I love both grits and cornbread, it’s sort of an ideal dish for me. And because I would never dream of having grits without cheese, I thought it’d be a smart move to add cheddar and bit of chives for a punch of color and texture.
You start with pretty much making grits. Pouring your milk into your saucepan with few tablespoons of butter.