Sweet Corn

The father-in-law of one of the secretaries at my school has farmed his whole life.  Though he reached the age when many people retire years ago, there are parts of farming that he can’t let go.  Every year he grows sweet corn on a scale that must be considered more crop than garden.  Everyone at our school benefits from his efforts.

I decided to preserve the corn I received after finding food.com’s instructions for freezing fresh corn.  Step 1:Shucking the Corn is the kind of chore that can be done while your mind is  a million miles away.  My mind was on the back porch on a hot summer day in the early 1970s.  Sitting on the concrete stoop I happily worked through a stack of corn that someone had given to our family helping to stretch the food budget required to fill the bottomless bellies of so many growing children.

Corn on the cob was one of the best things about summer in my mind.  I could make a meal of buttery, sweet corn.  I loved pretending with my brothers that our corn eating was like fingers flying across the keys of a typewriter reaching the end of the page with a ding and returning to the other side for yet another line.

I took pride in my ability to remove more of the corn silks than my older brothers could.  No one would get a silk caught like floss in their teeth as long as I was performing quality control.  I often reworked ears of corn my brothers had deemed ready for the pot of boiling water shaking my head at their feeble attempts.

Step 2:  Cook the ears in boiling, salted water for four minutes.  The steam rising above my huge soup pot as I drop in each ear causes my glasses to fog over.  I think of my mother in her hot kitchen.  Our house was cooled–on those summers that it was cooled at all–by a single window air unit positioned in the living room at the farthest point from the kitchen possible.  Standing near the steaming pot in my own comfortable kitchen I suddenly remember that there was at some point during my childhood a unit in the window by the kitchen pantry.  I don’t recall it ever being there, but a memory of my dad removing it floats through my brain.  I am peeking at him from inside as he works outside the window.  Normally, he would grin at me but in this memory he is discouraged.  Why had I never made the connection between this memory and the many memories of my mother’s flushed face as she stood working at the hot stove?

Step 3:  Lay the ears on a clean dishtowel to drain and cool.
Step 4: Once cooled to the touch, stick the end of an ear into the opening of the center tube of an angel food or bundt cake pan.  Using a paring knife cut the kernels from the cob letting them fall into the cake pan.  Going through the motions I can’t help but notice how much my hands have come to resemble my mother’s. Her hands are the things I remember most vividly about her perhaps because they were always moving, always delving into some project that would directly benefit me.

Step 5: Melt butter (1/3 cup was perfect for a dozen ears) , drizzle over the corn and toss.  Place corn in an airtight container and freeze.

I tasted the corn before slipping it into my freezer and smiled at the same buttery goodness I remember from my childhood.  I started this project with the idea I was preserving corn, but came to understand I was really preserving memories.  Memories of childhood summers with simple pleasures in a family who surrounded me in love.

Corning Ware Hand-me-downs

Anyone who has closed down the household of elderly parents can relate to the walls of boxes that encroach on your own home during the process.  Things that have sentimental value or that could be useful add up until both the experience and amount of stuff become overwhelming.  A few years ago we were closing down the homes of my parents and my in-laws simultaneously.  We were inundated with stuff.  As boxes came into the house they were opened, and each of us chose the things that we wanted to keep. Things were reshuffled into boxes marked for each of the kids.  We repackaged as we went along which didn’t always lead to the most efficient organization of items for storage until the kids were ready for them.  

As things were finally reorganized and distributed I discovered an abundance of Corning Ware containers.  Suddenly, I had a cost-free solution to the large number of our plastic food containers that were wearing out.  I had been following the stories online about the potential hazards of using plastic for food and water storage.  Depending on which article you read plastic is either harmless or lethal.  Either way, it didn’t make sense to purchase new plastic when I already had so many glass containers in an array of sizes.

Corning Ware from three households now in one.

It has been a while now since I cleared the plastic container cupboard to make room to store Corning Ware.  I don't know if my body is any healthier for steering clear of the potential hazards of plastic, but I am sure it does my heart good each time I transfer something nourishing I have prepared for my family into a vintage Corning Ware container that was once used to feed my family or my husband's.

Mom's Syrup Pitcher

On the top shelf of my china cabinet sits a brown pottery pitcher from my childhood home.  It held the syrup each time we had waffles.

It is not easy to produce enough waffles all at roughly the same to time in order to feed eight to ten people.  My mom would be a blur of motion constantly pouring batter or turning baked waffles onto a platter.  I am sure that is why waffles were a rare treat at our house.

As soon as two golden squares hit each plate they were slathered in creamy butter.  The butter instantly began to melt and sink into the crusty surface of the waffle.  One by one we would grab hold of the handle of the pottery pitcher tipping it up so that each tiny reservoir of the waffle filled with sticky sweetness.

Maple syrup may as well have been liquid gold with the number of mouths Mom needed to feed.  Instead, she had figured out how to make a low cost alternative long before my time.  It was her homemade syrup that filled the brown pitcher.

I took the syrup pitcher off its shelf tonight to get a better look at it.  It is chipped in a couple places and was never from a pottery line that anyone would consider collectible.  Yet it remains a perfect symbol of my childhood….solid, unpretentious, and oh, so sweet.

Susie’s Homemade Syrup

Equal parts sugar, brown sugar and water (Typically, Mom used a cup of each.).  Place ingredients in a sauce pan over medium heat.  Stir and heat until sugars melt.  Stir in a tablespoon of Maple Extract (available at Amazon.com) and continue heating for another minute or so, stirring constantly.

Be sure to refrigerate any leftovers.

The Soup Pot

Today the temperatures dipped into the range of real winter temperatures.  In an otherwise fairly wimpy winter this caught my attention.  Since I had the day off I decided to make the most of it. For this mild-mannered homebody “making the most of it” meant getting some homemade bread rising on the counter and then pulling out the soup pot.

Making a pot of homemade soup on a blustery winter day is one of life’s simple and great pleasures to me.  The pot itself suggests abundance before the first chopped vegetable hits its bottom.  It is substantial, requiring a bounty from the pantry and the refrigerator.  By virtue of my ability to fill this pot I understand that I am surrounded by plenty.

I chop the vegetables by hand.  The repetitive rhythm gives me time to think about the people I am preparing this soup for.  In its way it is like a prayer sent up for each member of the family for their health and well being.

As the vegetables begin to simmer in a pat of butter they give off an earthy fragrance that reminds me that spring and another growing season lie just around the corner.  Soon the earth will bud and bloom, but for now we rest.  The air is redolent with herbs and the smell of the soup that will warm us from the inside out.  Just now I want nothing more than to hunker down at home on this quiet night with good food and better company.

As the soup simmers on top of the stove and the oven heats the bread, the kitchen gets steamy.  When I began my project a leaf on the viburnum bush shivered outside the window above the cooktop.  The soup simmered and brewed for so long the window is now opaque with condensation and the quaking of the leaf is no longer in view.  Inside my little house all is warm and cozy.

Soup’s on!

Key Lime Pie

I originally posted this recipe during the summer of 2013.  It is the last time I had a slice of key lime pie.  When I was in North Carolina this summer I bought my daughter a lime tree.  As much as anything we native Kansans were anxious to see if she could really grow her own citrus, and she has!  I am hoping a few will make their way to Kansas with her this Thanksgiving.  Would love to add a key lime pie to the dessert line up.

One of the perks of having grown children back at home during school breaks is that they have many wonderful skills that can add to the quality of life around the old home place (which just happens to benefit me).  This afternoon my daughter puttered around the kitchen creating a summer classic, Key Lime Pie, using this recipe from Scarborough Food Fair:

Filling:
4 tsp lime zest
4 egg yolks
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

Whisk zest and egg yolks in a medium bowl for 2 minutes until frothy.  Whisk in the sweetened condensed milk and the lime juice.  Set aside at room temperature to allow it to thicken while you prepare the crust.  Preheat oven to 325°F.

Crust:
the crumbs of 9 graham crackers
2 TBS sugar
5 TBS unsalted butter, melted

In a medium bowl, stir together graham cracker crumbs and granulated sugar.  While stirring with a fork, slowly drizzle in melted butter.  Mix until all of the dry ingredients are moistened.  Transfer the crumbs to a 9-inch pie plate and evenly press the crumbs in the bottom of the pan and up the sides.  Bake until the crust is fragrant, about 15-18 minutes then cool to room temperature.

Once the crust has cooled, pour the filling into the crust.  Bake until the center is set and just slightly jiggly, about 15 minutes.  Return the pie to a wire rack; cool to room temperature.  Refrigerate until well-chilled, at least 3 hours.

Whipped Cream Topping:
1 1/2 cups very cold, heavy cream
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Using an electric mixer, whip the cream on medium speed until soft peaks form.  Add powdered sugar 1 tablespoon at a time while continuing to whip the cream until stiff peaks form.  Decorate the pie with whipped cream and garnish with lime slices.

Tart, rich, creamy and oh! so good.

At Scarborough Food Fair(here) the photographs of this pie are total eye candy.  Plus, a printable version of the recipe is available.

Chocolate Torte

One of the recipes I discovered in my pile of clippings stuffed in the kitchen drawer was for this delicious chocolate torte.  It calls for almonds which I omitted so others at my house would eat it, but they would make a great addition in my opinion.

2 sticks plus 2 TBS unsalted butter cut into pieces

9 ounces baking chocolate, chopped

6 large eggs, separated

2/3 cup sugar

1/2 cup almonds, finely ground

Preheat oven to 350.  Butter a 10-inch spring form pan.

Melt butter and chocolate together stirring to combine.  Allow to cool.

In a medium bowl, whisk egg yolks and sugar.  Gradually add chocolate, stirring constantly.  Fold in almonds and set aside.

With an electric mixer at medium-high speed, beat egg whites forming stiff peaks.  Fold whites into chocolate mix until just combined.

Pour into prepared pan.  Bake 35 minutes.  The center will appear very moist.  Allow to cool for an hour.  Light, but rich with the feel of something special.