A silent dive. And, charred, cheesy, creamed corn.
While we have been largely without regular rain this summer, we have had our share of storms. Ones that reminded me of the monsoons of India, where there is no delineation between sky and soil, just water and sound, sound everywhere.
The peaches, plums, and nectarines at the farm stands bear the scars of a late-spring frost. The mature fruit still proud and round, but bearing the marks nonetheless. In a basket of seconds I bought, I found others, less round; one a crenelated closed fist, then a pair pinched in at their sides and only about the size of my thumb.
I took on the unoriginal habit of a daily peach, either over the sink or in thin slices, for the gratifying efficiency of a keen knife through ripe fruit. It is the antithesis of the Jabberwock’s vorpal blade and its snicker-snack, instead a more sleek and slithering a shiver, close to my spine.
The nights we had rain sent a similar sensation through me. They were impenetrably dark. If I’m honest, I’ve not been sleeping as well as I should.
In the midst of one torrent the rain was a locomotive at full steam roar. The winds whipped the hanging lights outside the living room windows, throwing shafts in racing streaks across glossy trees. With the branches’ own sway, the slanting light gave a sense of motion as if the floor had tipped where I stood. I was moving with it.
We slipped into the school year like a silent drive into inky depths.
The corn* is now nuzzled up against squash on the counter in the kitchen. It can be cold enough for long sleeves and I walked around the house with big socks yesterday. The marigolds are largely spent. The rusty leaves curled on the steps shuffle out of the way with the slightest shift in the air. There’s quiet momentum. Things changing. Keep going.
YOU MIGHT WANT TO MAKE THIS
*The corn has been particularly good. It went into hushpuppies, corncakes, and quick pickles with onions and chilies. This bake was its all-out, over-the-top last hurrah. (Not really last, last. As we had it more than once. And I have that corn on the counter to make it again. But you get the spirit.)
CHARRED, CHEESY, CREAMED CORN BAKE (Serves 8 to 10, because I’m ok with leftovers as we’re not having a crowd over. Hahaha, imagine that? Easily halved.)
Over an open flame (gas stove or barbecue) or in a dry skillet over medium-high heat, char 1 poblano pepper and 1 jalapeño pepper until blistered on all sides. Set aside. Husk 4 or 5 ears sweetcorn and char as well, turning often. The goal is colour, not cooking through. Peel the skin off the peppers, stem, deseed, and chop finely. Cut the kernels from the cobs. Grate 113 g | 4 ounces melting cheese (consider cheddar, Monterey Jack, Gruyère, Comté, Parmesan — I advise a mix.)
In a large, deep skillet over medium, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil and sauté 1 diced red onion to tenderness. Scrape in the peppers and 2 minced garlic cloves and cook 1 minute more. Tip in the corn kernels, 3/4 teaspoon ground coriander seed, a pinch or two of red pepper flakes, and season with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Scatter 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour over all and cook 30 seconds. Pour in 1/2 cup milk and stir until thickened.
Now cheese. Fold in 225 g | 8 ounces cream cheese cut into pieces. Once incorporated, add three-quarters of the grated cheese. Turn off the heat, it doesn’t matter if the strands haven’t melted yet. Stir in minced chives, if you’ve got them, enough to make it pretty. Parsley or green onion could stand in. Check seasoning again (as if I have to tell you to taste it at this point. It’ll be tempting enough without my prodding.) If the pan isn’t oven safe, spoon the corn mixture into a dish that is. Scatter with the rest of the grated cheese and bake in a 375°F oven until hot and bubbling, about 20 minutes. Give it a pass under the broiler if it looks to need more sun.
Top with as many Fritos corn chips as you feel good about (for me that is quite a lot). Fleck with chives, or if you find your cilantro has bolted in its planter, rescue the spindly fronds and teensy flowers befitting a Barbie’s floral crown. Similarly adorn your Fritos with the frills, as this moment is nothing if not the occasion for some ridiculousness. Jackson Pollack on sharp hot sauce (Rossy, if you’re reading this, I used yours). If I was smart I would have saved some charred kernels for garnish. But I was not smart, just hungry. Serve.
We ate it with roasted chicken and lanky stems of broccolini, and on another day with grilled sausages. I like the prospect of it with wilted bitter greens either alongside or mixed right in. There is definitely some influence of Mexican esquites and elotes going on; you could lean into those vibes by adding cumin to the coriander, cilantro with the chives, ancho powder with the chilies, and the bold could reach for a spoon of mayonnaise with the milk. Call on cotija close the show.
Other recipes: Bryant Terry’s Sweet Corn Relish from his book, Vegetable Kingdom or his Curried Corn and Coconut Rice.
THINGS I WOULD TEXT IF I HAD YOUR NUMBER
Priya Krishna’s piece, How to Save Restaurants.
Pitmaster Rodney Scott talking about the decision to open his closed hand to accept possibility on Chef’s Table. Watch Rosalia Chuy Chuc’s episode next.
Summer Block Parties Are Different This Year, But Black Joy Lives On by Omar Tate.
Carrying on still with stone fruit, Ayako and Family capture plums, and transform them into jars of lucent magic. Beyond that alchemy they support local Black and Indigenous organizations and individuals through their Free Curry Lunch Program. (My dream is to be in Seattle again, to buy their jam and shokupan at the market and be happy.)
Nishta J. Mehra’s Brown White Black just came out in paperback. It tackles intersectionality in gender, race, and religion, and the work of navigating all through this graceful memoir. I spent the Labour Day weekend with it, and am thinking about it still.
Download (for free) Eziban: Recipes Across the Black Diaspora.