Corn off the Cob

As the days start to grow shorter, and kids go back to school, the squirrel in me yearns to put up the summer's bounty to hold me through the winter. But my idea of 'putting up' food stretches as far as the freezer. The strawberry vendor at the farmer's market told me how to both keep the berries fresh longer in the fridge and how to properly freeze them. So I have a fruit smoothie with local fruit any time of year, which is a grand luxury.

But tonight found me with 3 ears of local sweet corn, a sharp knife in hand, and the Wailin' Jennys on the stereo. I placed each ear on top of a small bowl (inverted, to act as a base), set inside a wide bowl. When I scraped down the ear close to the cob, the kernels fell neatly in the big bowl. Then I scooped them into a quart-sized bag and popped it in the fridge.

And now I feel more down-home, self-sufficient and ready to the long nights, with provisions laid in. A little organic produce and the right soundtrack go a long way.

Fair Food

Ah, fair food! Curly fries, corn dogs, deep-fried everything.

While we were perusing the worst offerings - twinkies, Snickers, and Oreos - a woman came up and asked the vendor if there was a stall anywhere selling fresh fruit. Bless her.

Pasta and red sauce

When a long day or week is over, and all great ambitions for haute cuisine have fizzled, what's in the cupboard? Pasta. Always in season, pasta is just another staple like dried beans and grains. When I first cut most wheat out of my diet, I mourned the loss of pasta. But after trying several brands of fancy, oddly-textured substitutes, reliable Trader Joe's came through yet again. TJ's brown rice spaghetti and fusilli cook and taste like standard dry pasta - with a little care to not overcook them (learn to love pasta al dente, Italian-style).

As if the gratifying carb load were not enough, pasta coats so well with nearly any sauce. While I love finding new variations (tomatoes, chard or kale and ricotta? yum. summer veggies, garlic and oil? yum? butter and mizithra? yum.), the ability to just open a glass bottle and spoon red sauce over boiled noodles can feel like grace itself. Well, maybe I'll add some sauteed onion and garlic, and a little sage and basil from the garden . . . that's not really cooking. It's relaxing. Almost as relaxing as eating a big bowl of pasta with red sauce, and then lying on the couch.

Julia Rocks!

Yesterday was the perfect time to get out of the kitchen - I could not take the heat. And spending time in legendary kitchens, from the comfort of a cushy movie theatre seat, was the perfect alternative. Afterwards, we wandered across the boulevard to La Tartine, and sat people-watching from the sidewalk cafe tables, as the last of the afternoon heat waned. As close to a real Parisian experience as the day could offer.

Julie and Julia made me wistful for the Paris of the 40's; and not so much for contemporary Queens. But, unlike a number of movie critics, I thought the juxtaposition worked marvelously. Yes, Meryl Streep stole the show with her typically remarkable performance. (I was a little taken aback seeing the actual Julia Child on TV, that evening. Her jaw was too square, her hair too grey. Ah well.) But Nora Ephron also did a great job of bringing out Julie Powell's most endearing traits - her vulnerability, her loyalty to Julia, her ability to learn and persevere. And the weaving of the two tales was done artfully. I hope it inspires any viewers who have not read Julie and Julia and My Life in France to add both to their summer reading lists.

Baking with Julia

Who knew there were so many food geeks? Perhaps the local cinemas' showings of Julie and Julia at 12:01 am on opening day should have tipped me off. But still, I thought, 20 minutes ahead of show time the evening of opening day should get me a good seat. Alas, the show was sold out.

So home we went, with plans to return for one of the eight showings today. Instead, we immersed ourselves in home renovation projects, which do expand to fill all time available. But thanks to Create TV, we had Julia for company while we worked. They ran a marathon of Baking with Julia. Bagels, bread by Berkeley's Acme Bread Company, lady fingers and petit-fours, pita bread, and more. Many of her guests noted that they use unfinished quarry tiles in the oven; and not once did she say, "I brought that technique to America in Mastering the Art of French Cooking volume 2, you know." Which I thought very gracious, as one would expect. The year she filmed this show for PBS, she was elderly and couldn't do as much in the kitchen, often leaning on a counter for support. But her indomitable spirit shines through; and she does a fine job of hosting, asking the right questions to make sure the audience learns from her guest the techniques she herself already knows.

Squash Corn Soup

Guest writer: Melissa Aaron

One of my summertime gustatory joys is Squash Corn soup. The ingredients are cheap, fresh and easy to come by. And they make a soup that I’ve never had anyone not enjoy. The soup requires little prep and cooks up quickly. One can easily make it vegetarian or add a little meat.

Squash Corn Soup Serves 6

Prep time: 20-30 minutes

Cook time: 25 minutes

6 cups patty pan squash (crookneck will do)

the corn from 4-5 ears of corn

¼ cup finely diced shallots

2 T finely diced garlic

1 or 2 finely diced jalapenos (depending upon how hot you want your soup to be and how hot your peppers are)

2 cups chicken or veg broth (with more on hand in case you want a thinner soup)

Optional – a little crumbled bacon for a little porky kick and/or sour cream or yogurt for garnish

Saute shallots, garlic and chiles until soft and aromatic. Don’t let them brown.

Add the squash and corn. Saute until just soft.

Add stock and cover. Simmer 15-20 minutes.

Puree in blender or food processor. Be certain to do this in small batches, as the steam from the soup will want to pop the lid off and burn the bejesus out of your hands and face.

Salt and pepper to taste, thin with more broth if you wish.

Serve with sour cream or yogurt and/or bacon.