Blue Palate

Photo credit: jmacphoto.com

A Dutch friend of mine once said he was appalled that Americans eat corn on-the-cob. “That’s what pigs eat,” he said. If that’s true, Dutch pigs must be happy pigs, because there’s nothing tastier ear of sweet summer corn slathered in butter and salt. Oink, oink.

Summer means sweet corn and cheap corn. My parents would buy it by the bushels in August and my dad would boil it, cut it from the cob, and freeze it. We ate like it was summer until November, about the time my Dad would announce we were eating the last bag. We savored the buttery sweetness, knowing we wouldn’t experience it for another nine months.

Feeling like I haven’t had my corn fix this summer, I bought three ears for a dollar and remixed a Cook’s Illustrated recipe for Black Bean and Corn Salad. Cook’s warned not to even attempt to use frozen or canned corn, as only fresh would do. Amen. Here’s my version:

Black Bean, Avocado and Corn Salad

3 ears of sweet corn
1 can of black beans
1 cup halved cherry tomatoes or 4-5 small tomatoes sliced into wedges
1 cup diced onion or scallion
2 tbsp chopped pickled jalapeno or 1 fresh jalapeno, seeded and chopped
1/3 cup chopped cilantro
1 avocado, chopped

Dressing:
2 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 clove garlic, diced or pressed
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder
1 tsp salt
ground black pepper to taste
juice from 1/2 lime

Boil the corn for 5 to 7 minutes. Cool and cut kernels from the cob. Drain and rinse beans. Whisk dressing ingredients and toss beans and corn with dressing and remaining ingredients. Serve over romaine or alone with warm quesadilla or corn tortillas, or with tortilla chips as an appetizer.

It’s snowing today in Portland, a once or twice a year phenomenon. When inclement weather strikes I go wildly domestic and get a strong urge to bake. Snow on the road meant I had to find a recipe that didn’t require a trip to the store. Cookies? No chocolate chips or raisins. Brownies, at least the ones I like to make, required more than the stick and a half of butter I had on hand. I had a box of expired scone mix I bought in California a year ago and left at my parents. My stepmother returned it to me when they visited for Thanksgiving. They obviously don’t bake scones. But old scones didn’t sound appetizing.

A half bag of chopped pecans, remnant from a great Thanksgiving pie, gave me the answer. Coffee cake. Warm coffee cake with a cup of hot joe on a snowy day sounded damn near close to absolute perfection.

Coffee cake with strudel topping was the first thing I learned to bake and I remember making it for my family when I was 10. That page in our old Joy of Cooking is forever encrusted with brown sugar and stained with butter.

About 20 minutes ago we started to smell the cinnamon. I don’t know the exact word for when you first start to smell a dish that’s baking in the oven. That first whiff of chocolate in brownies or apples in a pie. I like to call it “breaking.”