Easy Recipes

I basically remember just two things from my middle school home ec class: that sour milk can be substituted if you dont have buttermilk, and over-mixing results in muffins with a tougher crumb and a peaked top. I was reminded of both of these facts when I made these delicious corn muffins.

Please forgive these muffins, all pointy instead of nicely domed on top. Thats entirely my fault, the result of my refusal to heed my own advice. So take it from me: you really should mix until *just* combined. And I mean just. Still see a few lumps of flour in the batter, instead of a homogeneous mixture? Totally okay. Thats what you want, in fact, and youll be rewarded by muffins with tender delicacy.

But even with my heavy hand (heavy wooden spoon?), these muffins were totally delicious. The crumb is tight and moist, sweet with sugar and whole kernels of corn (for the corn-on-corn taste alluded to in the title). Theyre sweet enough for a dessert, especially with a swipe of butter and drizzle of honey, but not so sweet that you cant pair them with a bowl of chili. And with frozen corn, and a substitution of soured milk for buttermilk, they can be easily whipped up at the last minute. And if you happen to have leftovers? Toast them. Amazing.


Corniest Corn Muffins

adapted from Dorie Greenspans Baking: From My Home to Yours

yields 12 muffins

1 cup flour
1 cup cornmeal
6 Tbsp sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
pinch nutmeg
1 cup buttermilk (or soured milk)
3 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
3 Tbsp neutral oil, like corn or canola
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 cup corn kernals (thaw and dry, if using frozen)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Grease or line 12 muffin cups.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg. Set aside.

In another bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, butter, oil, egg and egg yolk until well combined. Pour this mixture into the dries, folding until just combined but still lumpy. Do not overmix. Fold in the corn kernals, and divide the mixture evenly into the muffin cups. Bake 15-18 minutes, until the tops are beginning to get golden, and a tester comes out clean. Remove from the oven, let rest in the pan for a few minutes, and then turn out onto a rack to cool.

My friend Emily often talks about being willing to "re-meet" someone -- to set aside earlier impressions youve formed (rightly or wrongly), and give people another chance to show you who they can be. Its a lovely concept. All too often we are boxed in by previous assumptions or rumors, which can keep us from getting to know some truly extraordinary people. Or, in this case, salads. 

In general, I dont think of myself as a terribly fussy eater. I mean, sure, I want my food to be good, and made of actual food and all that. But my prohibitions are fairly minimal: I hate hate hate bananas. Im not too keen on cooked bell peppers, after their over-use in the college food service vegetarian menu. And I dont like to mix my sweet and my savory.

Or, rather, I thought I didnt. As it turns out, sweet and savory can combine into some truly great dishes. Im not talking about raisin-studded green salads, or industrial catering wild-rice-with-dried-cranberry pilafs (which might have been how I came up with this aversion in the first place). Im talking about a salad of drippy-sweet peaches, oh-so-green kale, sunny fresh corn and creamy feta.

I saw this recipe about a month ago on one of my favorite blogs, and pulled it out a few nights ago when I needed a dish to bring with me as I went to watch the local chimney swift migration with a few friends (What? Isnt that what you do on a summer evening?). I figured that even if I didnt like the combination, our potluck picnic would take care of any leftovers. But oh man did I love this. This salad was the perfect bit of Oregon bounty to accompany the natural beauty. The peaches are sweet and juicy, as is the corn (in a different way), but the deeply vegetal kale and briny feta tie it all together. And also, well, its just so pretty (using the purple-veined Red Russian kale doesnt hurt in that department). This salad is not the sweet-versus-savory fight I always fear -- its the very best of summer, from the trees and from the fields, coming together in beautiful harmony. I cant wait to find out whats going to surprise me next.


Kale, Peach, Corn and Feta Salad

from Last Nights Dinner, as inspired by a salad at Diner
serves ~6 (great accompanying a light pasta dish, as we enjoyed it, or just a crusty loaf of bread)

1/4 cup olive oil
juice of 1 lime
2 Tbsp sherry vinegar
dollop honey
salt and pepper
1/2 small red onion, sliced into thin half-moons
1 bunch kale (I like Red Russian), washed and torn into small pieces
1/2 bunch cilantro, washed and coarsely chopped
2 ears of corn, cut off the cob
3 peaches, cut into slim wedges
1/4 cup feta (preferably a moist, mild feta, like French or Israeli), crumbled

In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lime juice, sherry vinegar, honey, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Add the onion, and let sit for a few minutes to mellow. Add the kale and cilantro, and mix well to coat with the dressing (I like to sandwich two aluminum bowls together, and shake shake shake until its coated). Let the mixture sit for an hour for the kale to absorb the dressing and soften. Then scatter the corn, peaches and feta over the top and devour.

I tend to like my pizza — my home-made pizza at least — topped with strong flavors. Kale, blue cheese and walnuts. Garlic scapes and potato. Asparagus, goat cheese and anchovies. But a hot, late summer night calls for a different kind of pizza. A more delicate pizza. A summer pizza. A corn, tomato and basil pizza.

I know that corn on pizza doesnt sound very Italian. And I know that I used a hippie whole wheat dough, that my crust is entirely devoid of char, and my mozzarella started to brown. It was just that kind of night. But even so — this pizza was delicious.

The sweet corn only gets sweeter in a hot oven, and the punchy bursts of tomato (I went with some never-disappointing Sungolds a friend was kind enough to share form her garden) and fresh basil come together in a way that just feels perfect. Its sweet and juicy (from both the corn and the tomatoes), but its also savory and aromatic. And even though its pizza, its surprisingly light. Its summer.


Corn, Cherry Tomato and Basil Pizza

1 ball of pizza dough, ~10 oz
semolina or regular flour for dusting
1/4-1/3 lb mozarella, shredded
kernels shaved off 1 ear of corn
2 dozen small cherry tomatoes (preferably Sungold), sliced in half
olive oil
coarse salt
1 handful basil leaves, torn if large

Preheat your oven, with a pizza stone if you have, to 500 degrees for an hour. If your pizza dough has been refrigerated, let it come to room temperature for an hour.

Place the pizza dough on a lightly-floured counter top, and press outward into a thick disk (leaving a 1" unpressed area along the edge as the crust). Pick up the disk and let it drape over the backs of your hands, letting gravity help you stretch it into a 12-14" circle. If the dough resists, let it relax for a few minutes, then try again. Place the stretched dough on a peel (or overturned cookie sheet or cutting board) thats lightly dusted with semolina or other type of flour.

Scatter the mozzarella on top of the dough, then the corn and tomatoes. Drizzle the whole pizza with a small amount of olive oil, and a sprinkling of salt. Slide the pizza onto the preheated stone in your oven, and bake ~7-10 minutes, until the crust browns and the cheese melts.

Remove the pizza from the oven, and let cool for a moment (if youre making one pizza, you can leave it on the stone, otherwise I like to transfer to a rack, or just slide a knife or such between the peel/cutting board and the pie, to let the steam vent so it doesnt soften itself). Transfer to a cutting board if you havent already, and scatter on the basil. Slice and serve.

Salad dressing isnt usually one of those things that cries out for innovation. While my salad vegetables vary a bit with the seasons (and shopping trips), the dressing remains pretty much the same. Oil, vinegar, shallot, salt, pepper, a pinch of sugar. Thats it. This formula allows room for variation: olive oil and red wine vinegar for an Italian meal, or walnut oil and sherry vinegar if youre feeling fancy. Sometimes theres a pinch of tarragon for excitement, or a few curls of orange or lemon zest when Ive got citrus. Now and then garlic steps in for the shallot, or maple syrup for the sugar. But the standard dressing formula holds strong.

Except when it doesnt. Every once in a while, especially when there have been a lot of salads on the menu, the standard vinaigrette can feel a little tired, and I want to branch out. Our resident lactard rules out the buttermilk-based creamy dressings that call out to me. So instead, I turn to corn.

It sounds a bit strange at first, and Ive even faced doubters in my own kitchen ("Were having salad topped with chowder?"). But this recipe wins hearts and minds. Its creamy without the cream, and has a smoky sweetness from the grill (and if you dont have the time or inclination to grill, you can fake it with smoked paprika and a pinch of sugar). It also makes a great dip for vegetables, and is absolutely heavenly poured over sliced avocados.

And for those of you wondering about the Wild America shots of prepared dishes in their natural backyard habitats? I dont really have a good answer. Our kitchen doesnt have much natural light, and is often pretty messy to boot. I figure Ill take advantage of the pretty before the rains set in.


Grilled Corn Dressing (and Dip)
inspired by my friend Sarah

makes about 1 1/2 cups dressing

2 ears corn
1 large shallot, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp rice wine vinegar
pinch each smoked paprika and sugar (optional, see instructions)
1/2 - 3/4 cups olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Grill or boil the corn until done. Shuck any remaining husk, and cut the kernels off of the ears. This will yield ~1 cup kernels.

Place the corn kernels in a blender, along with the rice wine vinegar and shallot. If you boiled the corn, add a pinch each of the smoked paprika and the sugar (grilled corn will have enough smoky sweetness on its own). Add about half the oil and puree until somewhat smooth. Continue to add more oil, stopping when you have a pourable consistency. Adjust seasonings to taste.

People often look back on the food of their youth with nostalgia, wondering why things just never taste as sweet in adulthood. While I have my fair share of misty culinary memories (many of them involving pressing cinnamon candies into sugar cookie dough to yield vampiric-eyed barn animals), I must say that many things taste better these days. Like corn.

When I was growing up, corn was prepared one way: boiled. For a long, long time. After this prolonged bath it was wrinkled, starchy, and didnt taste like much of anything (beyond the generous amount of butter and salt it was topped with, so naturally I still loved it). It wasnt until years later that I realized how good fresh corn could be. Or maybe corn just got better? I hear theyve made some progress with the whole keeping-sugars-from-converting-to-starch-within-seconds thing. Regardless: fresh corn, when cooked lightly (or not at all), is a thing of beauty. Its sunny, light, and fresh-smelling, and nearly pops in your mouth with milky sweetness.

These days I cant get enough of fresh corn. Ive baked it up into tomato pies, and shaved it into a raw salad with arugula, radishes, feta and mint (which I sadly forgot to photograph before inhaling). Both were lovely. But these popsicles might be my favorite. They were born somewhat by accident: I needed a cup of half-and-half for a recipe, and the quart was on sale for the same price as a half-pint, which meant that my thrifty self couldnt not buy it. The sweet corn at the farmers market was calling out, and the blackberries in front of our house had turned dark and sweet. And thus, creamy sweet corn and blackberry popsicles. And I daresay theyre perfect.

The corn, barely cooked and infused into half-and-half, is total summer sunshine. Its sugars, which are normally just a background note, come straight to the forefront, yielding a corny-sweet riff on a standard summer confection. The melty popsicles are thick and smooth, the blended milky corn lending a richness that you usually get from an eggy custard. And to keep the buttery sweetness of the corn from becoming overwhelming, its studded with a tart mash of barely-sweetened blackberries. While many people will be firing up the barbecue to enjoy their corn this Labor Day, I lobby for the popsicle instead.




Sweet Corn and Blackberry Popsicles

yields ~ 4-5 standard (3 ounce) popsicles

2 ears sweet corn
1 1/2 cups half-and-half
1/3 cup sugar, plus additional for the blackberries
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp vanilla
heaping 1/2 cup blackberries

Cut the kernals off of the cob, and place in a saucepan. Hack the cobs up in a few pieces, and add them as well, along with the half-and-half, 1/3 cup sugar, and salt. Bring the mixture to a simmer for a minute or so, until the corn softens and turns a darker yellow. Turn off the heat, add the vanilla, and let the mixture steep for an hour, transferring to the refrigerator as it cools (you want to wait a minimum of an hour to let the mixture infuse, but you can shelve it in the fridge for longer if needed).

While the corn mixture is steeping and cooling, rinse the blackberries and mash them with a fork or potato masher. Sweeten to taste with a spoonful or two of sugar -- the corn mixture will be sweet as well, so you want the blackberries to be a bit tart for contrast.

After the corn mixture has steeped, fish out the cobs and discard. Puree the remaining mixture in a blender, then strain through a fine sieve (you may have to clear the strainer a few times to get rid of the corn solids). Place the corn mixture in a container with a spout, and pour an inch of it in the bottom of your popsicle molds. Top with a spoonful of the sweetened blackberry puree, then repeat the process until the molds are filled (leaving enough headspace for them to expand). If you have the kind of molds with stick handles attached, simply freeze until solid. Otherwise let freeze half an hour, insert popsicle sticks into the semi-frozen mixture, and freeze completely.

Like most people mucking their way through the world, I aspire to do things because they are, essentially, worth doing — to find reward in my own internal sense of accomplishment. But the truth is that nothing spurs me onward like external validation. Because I am very, very lazy. Have I been coming home sore from my weekly Women on Weights (or, if you will, WOW) gym class because Ive found an inner reserve of willpower? No. Its because the ranks have thinned out with summer vacations, and Im striving to impress the teacher who actually has time to see what Im doing (and by impress I mean actually try to do the exercise correctly for the entire epic-seeming 60 seconds allotted each station). And recently, I came up with this deliciously inspired summer savory pie — solely because a friend was having a pie contest.

Regardless of my lower chakra motivations, this combination is delicious. I was initially inspired by last years high-season combination of corn and tomato, all wrapped up in a cheddar biscuit crust (which, incidentally, netted me the prize for that summers competition).  But in the name of innovation I dropped the delicious biscuit, highlighting the perfect of-the-season produce in a simple open-faced rustic pie instead. Because cheese is always a good idea, I alternated rounds of tomatoes and sprinklings of sliced-off-the-cob corn with thin slabs of rich, fusty blue cheese. And, because I am a teacher-pleaser, I gilded the lily with a quick brush of garlicky, herby olive oil. And the results were amazing — the from-the-farm sweetness of summer corn and tomatoes, given a sophisticated, rich counterpoint from the blue cheese, and a flaky, buttery crust. Perhaps its a good thing that Ive been giving it my all at the gym.


Tomato, Blue Cheese, and Corn Galette

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
handful chopped fresh herbs (tarragon, basil, etc)
salt and pepper
1 unbaked pie crust (Im still obsessed with a half-recipe of this)
1 pound tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch rounds
2 ears corn, sliced off the cob
1/4 pound blue cheese (you want something thats buttery-tasting but not too soft (lest it melt in the oven), cut into thin slices

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Farehnheit.

In a small bowl, mix togehter the olive oil, garlic, herbs, and a bit of salt and pepper. Set aside.

Roll out the crust to a 13-14-inch diameter, and transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet. In a spiral, lay overlapping slices of tomatoes, corn, and blue cheese, arranging to use up all of the vegetables and fill the tart up to about an inch of the edge (you can sprinkle with salt and pepper if you like, but the blue cheese may likely provide enough flavor, if its a strong one). Crimp the crust over the filling, pinching to pleat, then give everything a good wash with the herbed oil. Place in the oven, and bake until the tomatoes are cooked, the cheese is melty, and the crust is lightly browned, ~45 minutes. Let cool slightly, then serve in wedges.