Fresh Tart

It's traditional to serve corn pudding alongside a crusty roast or ham, and of course it's delicious that way.  But I like it best as the star of the meal, served like a souffle with simply sauteed vegetables.  (Try diced zucchini, sauteed in a little butter with garlic, with halved cherry tomatoes and fresh thyme stirred in at the end to just warm through; oh what a meal!)

Or keep it beautifully simple with a plate of sliced garden tomatoes.  Golden yellow corn pudding against bright red tomatoes.  Fluffy, creamy, juicy all together.  A hint of sweet and salt.  Sigh.  Unbearably good.

Corn pudding made with fresh, just-picked corn is the best of all.  I've even used leftover cooked corn with scrumptious results (the pudding pictured is made with the corn I grilled for dinner last night).

My version isn't nearly as heavy as others you'll see.  Some are so loaded with cream, cheese, sugar, and butter, I'm not sure how you even taste the corn.  Fresh sweet corn is the star here.

What to have for dessert?

Fresh figs, which are obscenely good right now.  Maybe a few almonds too.  This time of year is heavenly.

Fresh Corn Pudding
Serves 4

1 lb. fresh corn kernels (from 4-5 ears of corn; cut the kernels off very close to the cob, scraping the juice/milk from the cob along with the corn)
1/4 c. half-n-half
3 eggs, separated
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. butter, softened
1/2 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. minced scallions (optional)
1/4 c. cheddar cheese (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Grease a souffle dish (approximately 8 inch x 3 inch round dish). An 8-inch square pan could work too.

Puree corn kernels and half-n-half in a food processor until smooth.  Add egg yolks, sugar, butter, and salt and continue to puree.  Set aside.

Beat egg whites until soft peaks form.  Fold pureed corn mixture, as well as scallions and cheese if using, into the egg whites.  Pour batter into prepared pan and bake for 35-40 minutes, until lightly browned on top and set.  Serve immediately.

Nathan and I enjoyed the most delicious cold cucumber soup while in East Hampton.  It was dairy-free, yet smooth and creamy in texture, a bit frothy even, tasting of little more than pleasantly salty cucumbers and dill.  We couldn't stop talking about it and I promised that I'd attempt a version at home.

This soup requires a blender to become truly "creamy" and frothy - a food processor alone won't do the trick.  A generous drizzle of olive oil, emulsified with the cucumbers, is what gives the soup its smooth, dreamy texture.

In addition to its addictive deliciousness, cucumbers are nicely de-puffing, a marvelous benefit after two weeks of vacation eating (ahem).  I could blame my doughy eyes on the allergy/sinus issues I'm having right now (it turns out that I'm quite allergic to the dried grasses in late-summer Wyoming/Montana).

But I suspect a core sample of my eyelid tissue would reveal microscopic slices of white bread, shakers of salt, and glasses of wine floating around my eyes.  Pass the green tea, please.

I grilled a pile of shrimps to enjoy with this soup.  Hot shrimps alongside cold cucumber soup made a really light, lovely dinner.  It's nice to be home.

Cold Cucumber Soup with Dill
Serves 4

2 lbs. cucumbers, peeled, seeded, and chopped
1/4 c. cold water (perhaps more)
2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar (perhaps more)
1 large shallot, chopped
1 small garlic clove, chopped
3 Tbsp. chopped dill (or more, to taste)
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tsp. honey (or 1/2 tsp. sugar for vegan)
salt & freshly ground pepper to taste

Place half of the cucumbers in the bowl of a blender.  Add cold water and blend on high speed until cucumber is pureed.  Add remaining cucumber, shallot, garlic, and dill and blend until pureed.  With the blender running, slowly add olive oil, blending on high until the soup becomes quite creamy.  Blend in the honey and salt and pepper to taste.  Add more vinegar, dill, honey, or water to tweak consistency and flavor to your liking.  Chill for a few hours for best flavor, although it's delicious right away as well.

I posted this recipe a few weeks ago at Dara & Co./Minnesota Monthly magazine. I include it here today in honor of the Great Minnesota Get Together, aka the Minnesota State Fair, which begins tomorrow.  The grilled corn at the State Fair is sick it's so good.  Don't watch while they drench - drench! - it in melted butter and you'll enjoy it completely.

When I was a kid, I would eat corn only directly from the cob.  Even if the corn were freshly sliced onto a plate, it lost its popping-in-the-mouth sensation, and therefore its flavor and fun.  You might have spent the summer of '72 finding the Stairway to Heaven in the backseat of a Ford Torino.  I spent it toothless, cornless, and depressed (in a 5-year-old way), thanks to a mid-July bike crash with my not-friend Stacy.

These days my corn truth is more about freshness, butter, and salt than it is about cob vs. plate.  I've come to prefer grilled corn over boiled - a few million Minnesota State Fair-goers might agree with me.  Even if you're a sweet corn purist, trust me that corn's sweetness is set off nicely by subtle smoky heat and a squirt of fresh lime.  A finishing crumble of tangy queso fresco can turn it all into a meal.

On or off the cob.  Yeah.

Grilled Corn on the Cob with Chipotle Butter
Adapted from www.epicurious.com

1/2 cup (1 stick) salted butter
1 1/2 tablespoons minced canned chipotle chilies in adobo sauce
2 teaspoons fresh lime juice
2 Tbsp. minced cilantro or Italian parsley

8 large ears of corn, husked

lime wedges
coarse salt

optional: crumbled queso fresco (or feta) cheese

Melt butter in small saucepan over medium heat. Add minced chipotles, fresh lime juice, and cilantro or parsley.  Remove from heat.

Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat). Grill corn until cooked through and blackened in spots, turning frequently, about 6 minutes. Before taking the corn off the grill, brush generously with chipotle butter.  Remove corn to a large platter.  Sprinkle lightly with coarse salt and optional queso fresco.  Serve with lime wedges.

We're back from Wyoming, the second leg of our annual east-then-west summer vacation.  We usually visit my dad & stepmom Susanna at Sun West ranch south of Bozeman, Montana.  But this year, Susanna threw a big birthday party for my dad in Sheridan, Wyoming.

My dad's four sisters and their families came out to celebrate too - fun follows my lovely Meyer aunties, and this trip was no exception.

My aunt Kathy brought everyone's favorite sausages and cheeses from Sheboygan, Wisconsin.  This platter was decimated in short order.  Even little Cooper heartily dug in!

On Friday, our whole group toured the Custer Battlefields.  I'll never look at the buttes and mountains between Sheridan and the Taylor ranch the same way again.

Saturday we gathered at stunning Rafter T (aka the Taylor) Ranch - the cattle ranch my stepmom Susanna grew up on, and that her brother and nephews now run - to celebrate Baby Anna's christening and Dad's birthday.  It was a spectacular day, hot and sunny and beefy.

Tenderloin for lunch, thank you very much.

I used to stay in this guest house when I was...Nathan's age.  Holy Crap that was a long time ago.

Lemon christening cake for Baby Anna (above), chocolate birthday cake for Dad.  Both were incredible.

Yes, I ate both lemon and chocolate cake on the same day.  Uff.

After lunch the crowd jumped in the pool to digest.  Pool in the mountains...nice.

On Sunday we headed over to the magical HF Bar Dude Ranch, source of several memorable family vacations and many, many Taylor and Meyer celebrations over the years.  (If you're looking for a perfect family vacation, this is the spot.)

Before dinner, a group of us shot sporting clays...including John.

Home now, ready to eat less, sleep more, and finish sorting through my photos.

So long Summer 2010!

We just returned from visiting my in-laws' home in the Hamptons, one of the prettiest places in the world.  With lush flowers, towering trees, white beaches, and sprawling "cottages," there is always somewhere picturesque to rest your eye.

The food is lush too, spilling over onto quaint farm stands and into local markets.  Berries, melons, tomatoes, peaches, fresh fish, and corn, corn, corn.  I say this every year, but the Silver Queen-esque variety of east coast sweetcorn - white, small-kerneled, poppingly crisp - is always a summer food highlight.  There's nothing like it in Minnesota, so we really savor it while we're there.

My father-in-law made his famous crab cakes with tomato sauce.  To.  Die.  For.

He gave me his recipe, below, lalalaaaa! If you can put your hands on fresh crab meat, you are in for a treat.  The light tomato sauce is the perfect complement to the rich crab.  This night we had silky beef shortribs as well, but I started eating crab cakes and drinking wine and chatting with my sister-in-law and...no more pictures.

I could not get enough of Esther's plump shrimp dumplings.  Little pillows of heaven.

The painting in the picture above is by our friend Maud Bryt.  It's of the whole gang at one of our annual beach barbecues.

Thank you to Maud's husband Bartley and my brother-in-law Tom for this year's barbecue: Grilled shrimp with peach salsa, guacamole, burgers & dogs, and s'mores.

Perfection.

One of the best parts of the trip was getting a break from the heat and humidity.  Warm sun, cool breeze, dry air, ahhh. I've not much enjoyed sweating on my own deck this summer, so it was particularly lovely to sit on the porch to sip coffee and read in the morning...

...and to sip wine and chat in the evening.

The tree above is my favorite in a landscape forested with beautiful, unusual trees.  This photo doesn't do it justice - it's hard to see the ivy skirt that swirls up its trunk, or appreciate its stunning asymmetry against perfectly symmetrical surroundings. I guess I'll just have to go back and try again...

Home now, gearing up for Part II: Westward Ho!  I'll be back soon, but until then, I leave you with crab cakes.  Yeah.

My Father-in-Law's Crab Cakes
Makes 12/14 medium crab cakes

2 lbs. fresh, carefully picked over crab meat
1 cup minced onion
2 tsp. dry mustard
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
2 tsp. Old Bay seasoning
1/2 c. minced fresh parsley
2 eggs
3 Tbsp. mayonnaise
1/4 c. heavy cream
2 c. finely crushed saltine crackers
1/2 stick butter (or more)
1/4 c. oil (or more)

Put crab meat and onion in a large bowl.  In a small bowl, whisk together mustard, cayenne, Old Bay, parsley, eggs, mayonnaise, and heavy cream.  Pour mixture over crab meat and fold together carefully with a rubber spatula, being careful not to break up the crab too much.  Form into hockey puck-sized cakes.

Spread crushed saltines in a pie plate.  Coat crab cakes with saltines, setting them on a sheet of waxed paper as you go.  (Can be made up to 2 hours ahead; cover with waxed paper and chill.)

Heat butter and oil in a large saute pan over medium heat.  Fry crab cakes until browned and crisp.  Drain on paper towels.  Serve hot with tomato sauce pooled generously around each cake.

Light Tomato Sauce

1/4 lb. butter
28 oz. chopped tomatoes (Pomi or other Italian brand)
2 c. concentrated chicken stock (from cubes)
salt & freshly ground black pepper
6 Tbsp. chopped fresh basil
2 Tbsp. good (imported) white truffle oil

In a large saucepan over medium heat, melt butter, then stir in tomatoes and chicken stock.  Simmer, breaking up tomatoes, until sauce is lightly thickened, about 10 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper, then stir in basil and truffle oil.  Serve immediately.  (You can make the tomato sauce one day ahead, up until adding basil and truffle oil; cover and chill.  Reheat, then stir in basil and truffle oil to serve.)

You might be looking for new, delicious ways to use zucchini right about now.  How did I know?  Crazy right, how I read your mind?

I'm good that way.

These savory pancakes are hardly new, but they are certainly delicious.  Filled with fresh herbs and salty bits of feta cheese, the pancakes pop hot off the griddle tender and eggy, with beautifully crispy edges.  Rarrr.

Make them larger for a satisfying main course, or dial them down for a pretty appetizer.  Either way, serve the pancakes hot, with a cool garlic-yogurt sauce.  (A fresh tomato sauce would be delicious as well).

Turkish Zucchini Pancakes
Adapted from Bon Apetit Magazine, January 1996
Makes about 20

1 lb. zucchini, trimmed, coarsely grated
2 c. chopped green onions
4 eggs, beaten to blend
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. chopped fresh dill (or mint)
1/3 c. chopped fresh parsley
2 Tbsp. fresh tarragon or 2 tsp. dried
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground pepper
1/2 c. crumbled feta cheese
2/3 c. chopped walnuts, optional

1 c. Greek yogurt
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. minced dill
1/2 tsp. salt

Place zucchini in colander.  Sprinkle zucchini with salt and let stand 30 minutes to drain. Sqeeze zucchini between hands to remove liquid, then squeeze dry in paper towels.

In a small bowl, stir together yogurt, garlic, dill, and salt.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine zucchini, chopped green onions, 4 eggs, herbs, salt, and pepper in medium bowl.  Mix well. Fold in crumbled feta cheese.  (Zucchini mixture can be prepared 3 hours ahead.  Cover tightly and refrigerate.  Stir to blend before continuing.)  Fold chopped walnuts into zucchini mixture (if using).

Preheat oven to 200 degrees F.  Place baking sheet in oven.  Cover bottom of large nonstick skillet with olive oil.  Heat skillet over medium-high heat.  Working in batches, drop zucchini mixture into skillet by heaping tabespoonfuls.  Fry until pancakes are golden brown and cooked through, about 3 minutes per side.  Transfer each batch of pancakes to baking sheet in oven to keep warm.  Serve pancakes hot with yogurt sauce.

It was 96 degrees today, dripping with humidity, a mean fist of heat that punched me in the face each time I was stupid enough to open the door.  Needless to say, not a day for ovens or cooktops or hot soup.

And yet...I made this soup anyhow.  I made it because it's the best tomato soup I make, rich and deeply tomato-y and a perfect way to use a few big beauties when you've grown a wee bit tired of BLTs* and caprese salad.

The downside is that it requires fresh, garden tomatoes, the very ones that ripen and become perfect in 96-degree heat.  Life's unfair that way.

While the tomatoes are roasted, they're not roasted, as in, they're more nicely concentrated than completely dried.  In fact, they emerge from the oven still quite juicy, with lovely caramelized bits that add depth to the soup.  The chipotle cream is just...chipotles and cream.  Stirred together, in a ratio adjusted to your liking, the cream's smoky heat perfectly compliments the sweet, rich tomatoes.

Since you're turning on the oven, you might as well heat a skillet too, and make yourself a crunchy, buttery grilled cheese sandwich.  Even in the heat of a hellishly hot summer, tomato soup with grilled cheese hits the spot.

*And if you haven't grown a wee bit tired of BLTs, check out the Crispy Club Sandwich with Avocado I posted at Dara & Co./Minnesota Monthly today.  A pretty dreamy hot/crunchy, cool/creamy showcase for a perfectly ripe tomato.  Summer is good.

Roasted Tomato Soup with Chipotle Cream
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, March 1993
Serves 6

Stephanie's note: I think this soup is delicious at room temperature and chilled as well.

3 lbs. garden tomatoes, quartered lengthwise
3 unpeeled large garlic cloves
3 Tbsp. finely chopped shallot
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1 Tbsp. butter
1 1/2 c. chicken broth (perhaps more, to thin the soup to your liking)
2 tsp. balsamic vinegar
salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/4 c. heavy cream
1 chipotle chili (from a can of chipotle chilis in adobo sauce), minced to a paste (add some of the adobo sauce as well for more heat)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Spread the tomatoes, skin side down, in the one layer in 2 foil-lined baking sheets.  Sprinkle the tomatoes with a little salt.  Add the garlic to 1 of the pans, and bake the tomatoes and the garlic for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until the tomatoes are very soft and their skin is dark brown.  Let the tomatoes and garlic cool in the pans on racks.

Stir together the cream and chipotle pepper and set aside.

In a heavy saucepan cook the shallot, the oregano, and a sprinkle of salt over moderately low heat, stirring, until the shallot is soft.  Add the tomatoes, garlic (skins discarded), and broth.  Simmer the mixture, covered for 15 minutes.  Puree in a blender, or use an immersion blender, until soup is smooth.  Add more broth to achieve desired consistency.  Stir in balsamic vinegar and season with salt and pepper to taste.  Serve swirled with chipotle cream.  (Can be made one day ahead, cover and chill.)

My family is more than a little obsessed with the eggplant spread - or melitzanosalata - at It's Greek to Me.  The creamy eggplant is perfectly balanced with lemon, garlic, fresh herbs, and salt.  Nathan and I could sit down with just that, and a mountain of pillowy, hot-off-the-griddle pita bread, and stuff ourselves like fat little dolmades.

Yeah.

Needless to say, when I saw a pile of gorgeous eggplants at the farmers market, I greedily snagged several, with eggplant spread fully on my mind.  I used this David Lebovitz eggplant caviar recipe, because 1) David Lebovitz recipes are always fantastic, and 2) I loved the idea of the seared, blackened eggplant skins imparting a subtle smokiness to the spread.

Always go for the smoke, right?  Perhaps a rule to live by.

One note - definitely don't forget to poke a few holes in the whole eggplants before setting them on the hot grill.  If you don't, you'll learn that eggplants explode rather loudly.

When the skins are blackened, finish roasting the eggplants in the oven, until they're falling-apart tender.  Scrape the flesh into a bowl, mash with plenty of garlic & herbs, drizzle with olive oil, and smear generously on warm, grilled bread.

Commence stuffing yourself.

Recipe for Eggplant Caviar at www.davidlebowitz.com.

It's no secret that I'm a huge fan of farmers markets - what's not to love? - and the Minneapolis Farmers Market in particular because it's my "home" market.  I shop there every week, most weeks two or more times, loading up on all of my favorite fruits, vegetables, and local meats and cheeses.  The market represents everything I love about cooking and food - best ingredients, local growers, seasonal bounty.  (In fact, when food is this good - syrupy strawberries, warm tomatoes, fragrant basil, soft cheeses, rich honey - you don't even need to cook. But shhh, don't tell readers of this blog...)

I love to go on the weekends, when the scene is like a smaller, healthier version of the Minnesota State Fair - throngs of people from all over the world, eating, shopping, watching cooking demonstrations, buying flowers, listening to music, all wrapped in the smoky perfume of grilling brats and sweet corn.  Slightly chaotic.  Excellent people watching.  Pure summer.

But I love shopping on weekdays too, the yin to the weekend's yang.  It's mostly produce during the week, quiet as an eggplant, with easy parking and a calm, peaceful vibe.  I whip in and out of there in 10 minutes, loaded down with enough produce to feed an army.  Or my family.  If weekends are energizing, weekdays are relaxing.

Needless to say, I'm very excited (and honored) to chat with Susan Berkson on the Minneapolis Farmer Market's Fresh & Local radio show tomorrow morning.  Tune in to AM 950 if you're up and at 'em around 8 a.m., sipping coffee, kicking back and planning your gorgeous summer Saturday.  (If you miss it, or are out of range, you can listen later in the week off the MFM/Fresh & Local website.)

See you at the market!

Update: the interview is up, have a listen to Saturday, August 7, Part III, and the tail end of Part IV.  I had a great time!

Behold the world's most perfect side dish.  I'm not talking about the photo, which is meh (sorry, I was rushing this out to our National Night Out block party), but the dish itself, which is delicious and flexible and adaptable and easy and do-ahead.

No lie.

Serve it warm or serve it at room temperature.  Stir in shredded chicken or lamb, or serve it alongside a roast of either.  Add tomatoes, or corn, or peas, or any vegetable, really.

I never make it the same way twice and love all my iterations.  Perhaps narcissistic, but I don't think so.

I spy roasted cherry tomatoes, grilled corn, okra, pine nuts, scallions, kalamata olives, red onions, and feta cheese studding this version.  The soft, fluffy couscous pulls together all the lovely textures and flavors.

The basics are below - improvise away!  Include a combination of raw and cooked vegetables for the biggest flavor punch.  I bring this dish to almost every potluck I'm invited to - it actually improves as it sits there, looking pretty.

Couscous with Vegetables, Olives, & Raisins
Serves 4-6

1-10 oz. box plain couscous
1 tsp. salt
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 red bell pepper, seeded and sliced into matchstick pieces
1/2 sweet onion, sliced thinly into 1-inch pieces
3 oz. white mushrooms, sliced thin
1 tsp. curry powder
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 c. raisins (or golden raisins, or currants), softened by heating in a microwave, with 1 tsp. of water, for 30 seconds
1/4 c. chopped scallions
1/4 c. chopped Kalamata olives
salt and pepper

Prepare couscous according to package directions.  Spread hot couscous out on a baking sheet, breaking up any clumps, and allow to cool to room temperature.  (Skip this step if you're going to serve the couscous warm.)

Meanwhile, heat 3 Tbsp. olive oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium heat.  Stir in pepper, onion, and mushrooms and sauté until starting to wilt, about 8 minutes. Stir in curry powder and cumin, then garlic and raisins, and sauté for 3 minutes.  Remove from heat, season with salt and pepper to taste.

Transfer couscous to a bowl.  Stir in scallions and olives, then sautéed vegetables and any oil from the pan.  Adjust seasoning if necessary.  Serve warm or at room temp.

Optional stir-in ideas:
¼ toasted pine nuts
¼ c. chopped parsley
½ c. canned, drained chickpeas
¼ c. chopped fresh mint leaves
½ c. crumbled feta cheese
1 c. cooked, shredded chicken or lamb