Main Dishes

roasted shrimp and charred corn salad with jalapeño lime dressing

Russell’s cousin was just here visiting us from Massachusetts.

This has been a really weird summer, both personally and socially, not to mention the fact that the weather has been all over the place. Back in May I was completely gung-ho about spending tons of time outdoors and hosting barbecues every weekend, but sometimes life gets in the way, you know? Russell left his job early this summer to move into a new career. He was comfortable but miserable at his last job and now he’s found something he totally loves. Things are looking up and he’s doing great now, but money has been a little tight over the past couple months. Even though feeding and hosting our friends has always been something we both love to do, we haven’t been able to justify the expense this summer. Beyond all that, we’ve both been working weird hours lately and have had a hard time getting days off together, not to mention the fact that this August has been unseasonably cool, grey, and fall-like.

While Russell’s cousin was in town though, we were determined to get outside, fire up the grill, and reclaim this summer. We worked out a day when we’d both be off of work and started making arrangements. A menu was planned, wine was bought, and a trip taken to the farmers market for ingredients.

One of my favorite quick summery meals to throw together for company (or for a weeknight meal) is a spicy & tangy salad with shrimp, corn, tomatoes, & avocado. Late in summer the tomatoes and corn are impossibly bright and fresh and juicy, so I knew this would be the perfect easy meal for entertaining.

And then the weather decided not to cooperate. It didn’t quite pour all day, but the sky was grey and dreary, the temperature brisk, and the weather bounced between drizzle and mist for most of the day. Even though the weather was working against us, we had everything we needed for our no-longer-to-be-grilled meal, so we forged ahead.

Instead of grilling the shrimp on skewers as planned, they were roasted on a sheet pan in the oven. To give the corn some color and flavor, I traded one open flame for another and attempted to “grill” the ears by resting them over the burner grates on the gas range. As the ears sizzled and popped I slowly rotated them until they were ever-so-slightly, but evenly, charred all over. The corn wasn’t cooked through but it definitely took on a good grilled flavor. The corn was super fresh from the farmer’s market, so it was sweet and crunchy enough that we could have eaten it completely raw if we’d wanted to.

Despite being super delicious and impressive, this meal comes together pretty quickly with very little fuss. It’s great for company, but works just as well as a simple weeknight meal for you and your family. The most time consuming step is prepping and chopping the vegetables and making the dressing, but there aren’t a ton of things to chop and the dressing is really simple, with only a few ingredients. If you want to get a head start, you could make the dressing a few hours ahead, or you could even make the whole salad ahead and serve it straight from the refrigerator.

Whether you make this indoors or out, it is unbelievably summery and totally delicious and satisfying. The combination of flavors and textures in this salad are perfectly married together, but since no one flavor overpowers anything else, each ingredient is able to stand out on it’s own and really shine. Crunchy smoky sweet corn, plump sweet red cherry tomatoes, soft creamy unctuous avocado, biting bright red onion, tender perfectly-cooked roasted shrimp, and tangy spicy citrus dressing. Heaven.

Can you think of anything better to share with your family and friends on a summer night?

Roasted Shrimp and Charred Corn Salad with Jalapeño Lime Dressing

Servings: 4-ish
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1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoons olive oil (divided)
zest and juice of 2 limes (you want at least 1/4 cup juice)
1/4 cup loosely packed cilantro, finely chopped (skip or replace with parsley if you don’t like cilantro)
2 jalapeños, seeded and very finely diced
1 large clove of garlic, crushed
salt & pepper to taste
1 lb peeled and deveined shrimp
3 ears of sweet corn, shucked
1 pint grape tomatoes, sliced in half lengthwise
1 red onion, diced
2 ripe avocados

Preheat oven to 425, or preheat a charcoal grill.

To make the dressing, add 1/4 cup olive oil and lime zest and juice to a mixing bowl. Mix in finely diced jalapeño, chopped cilantro, and crushed garlic. Stir well and season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

Toss shrimp in 1 tbsp olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Arrange in a single layer on a parchment lined sheet pan. Roast for 5 or 6 minutes, or until the shrimp is cooked through. You could also arrange the shrimp on skewers and grill them for about the same time. At the same time, lightly char the shucked ears of corn on the grill or over a high flame on the stove top. I found the best way to do this is to use metal tongs to hold the ears, and rotate every minute or so until the corn is just beginning to blacken all the way around the ear. Slice the corn off the ear with a sharp knife, by holding the ear straight upright and rotating the ear while shaving downward with the knife. (If desired, you could also slice the corn off the ear first, and roast it in the oven on a parchment lined sheet pan at the same time as the shrimp.)

Add corn, shrimp, tomatoes, and red onion to a large bowl. Just before serving slice your avocado up in bite sized chunks (*see cooks note) and add to salad. Pour dressing over entire salad and gently toss, trying not to mash the avocado. Serve with a little chopped cilantro and a lime wedge if desired.

*Cooks Note: Be sure to wait to slice the avocado until the last minute, or it will turn brown. I like to slice my avocado in half and remove the pit with a chef knife, and then switch to a butter knife to divide it into chunks. A butter knife is sharp enough to cut the soft flesh, but won’t go through the skin as easily. Once divided into chunks, I scoop the avocado out with a big dinner spoon.

vegan sweet corn chowder

Sad sad sadness. Summer is nearing the end.

It’s still hanging on, but not for long. One good thing about this time of year though, is…

CORN!

I seriously love fresh sweet corn at the end of summer. Something about that sweet earthy bursting crunch.

While grilling the whole ear and just rubbing it in salted butter might be the very best way to enjoy corn, there are so many things you can do with corn when it’s in season. One of my ultimate favorite things to do with corn in the late summer is take a whole mess of fresh vegetables and make up a sweet, thick, creamy, earthy chowder.

I think my love of corn chowder really took root a few years ago when I was unemployed for a short time. I used to work for a fundraising walkathon called AIDS Walk New York, and while I absolutely loved being involved with them, they could only offer me work for about six months out of the year. This left me scrambling to find work waiting tables or slinging lattes for the other six months, over and over until I was finally able to find a full time permanent position somewhere else.

One year, a great friend of mine found herself unemployed at the same time that I was laid off from the walkathon. We spent a lot of time together helping each other look for work and prepare for interviews, and trying to keep our spirits up with plenty of food. We actually spent so much time cooking and eating together that we started referring to ourselves as the unemployment supper club.

We would regularly try to find recipes that seemed rich and filling while being relatively affordable. One of my favorite recipes we ever made was a corn chowder that was super thick and rich and decadent with tons of cream and butter and bacon. One of my favorite things about the recipe though, was the unexpected number of vegetables the recipe called for, including sweet potato and red bell pepper. Every year since, I’ve made a variation of this recipe at least once every summer, but this year I thought it might be interesting to see if it would be possible to lighten it up, lose the cream and butter and bacon, but keep it every bit as thick and creamy and decadent.

The only problem with trying to make a chowder without cream or butter is the issue of thickening it. A while back i made a soup with roasted cauliflower and tomatoes, and when I decided to puree it I was shocked at how thick it got, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to try that trick again. Its amazing what a roasted and pureed head of cauliflower can do for a soup. It thickens it up like a dream, but it also imparts a velvety smooth creaminess that you’d expect had come from a boatload of butter and flour. Roasting the cauliflower helps release some of it’s moisture ensuring maximum thickening potential, but also concentrates it’s earthiness, adds toasty brown depth, and curbs it’s cabbagey flavor in a way that changes it from utilitarian thickening agent to “secret ingredient” that no one would suspect if they weren’t told.

I will admit that the flavor of this chowder is quite different from the one I used to make years ago. While the flavors of bacon and butter are definitely not present, they don’t at all feel like they’re missing. If you’re a regular reader you know I’m not afraid of butter or bacon, but I promise you won’t miss them. This soup is bursting with fresh late summer flavors. It’s sweet and earthy and rich and hearty and unbelievably thick and creamy. This is a soup to satisfy carnivores and vegans alike.

Vegan Sweet Corn Chowder

Servings: 6-8ish
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1 large head of cauliflower, cleaned and roughly chopped
3 tbsp olive oil, divided
2 1/2 tsp coarse kosher salt, divided
1 tsp ground pepper, divided
3 or 4 ears of sweet corn, stripped *see note (or 1 lb frozen sweet corn)
1 medium onion, chopped
3 stalks celery, chopped
3 carrots, chopped
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 lb (2 medium) yellow waxy potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch cubes
1 lb (2 medium) sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch cubes
6 cups vegetable stock, divided
4 sprigs fresh thyme
1 tsp apple cider vinegar

Preheat oven to 400. Toss cauliflower with 1 tbsp olive oil, 1 tsp salt, & 1/2 tsp of pepper. Spread cauliflower evenly on a parchment lined baking sheet, and roast for 30 minutes. Set aside to cool.
Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a heavy bottom stockpot over high heat, and sautee corn for 5 to 8 minutes or until it’s just beginning to brown. Remove from pan and set aside.
Turn pot down to medium-high and heat last tbsp of olive oil. Add onions, celery, carrots, bell pepper, 1 1/2 tsp salt, & 1/2 tsp pepper. Sautee for 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Add potatoes, sweet potatoes, and sautee 5 minutes more. Add 4 cups of stock, thyme sprigs, & browned corn kernel. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.
While soup simmers, puree roasted cauliflower in a strong blender with remaining 2 cups of stock. After soup has simmered for 30 minutes, stir in pureed cauliflower. Simmer for 10 minutes more. Scoop out 2 cups of soup, cool slightly, and puree in blender with 1 tsp cider vinegar. Stir back into soup, taste, and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper if necessary. (If you want soup thicker, puree another cup of finished soup.)

*cooks note: To remove corn kernels from a fresh ear, I hold the ear upright against a cutting board and shave down with a sharp knife, rotating the ear until it’s shaved clean. For this recipe I also scraped off the remaining starchy corn milk with the butt end of the knife and added it after sauteing the kernels.

rainbow trout almondine

When I was in college I studied in France for a few months.

I was enrolled in a hotel and restaurant management program and applied for a 3 month internship abroad. So, off I went, with 8 other students, to France. Most of the group were culinary students so we started in Paris and studied for a short time at Le Cordon Bleu, then we were off to Central Burgundy where we were each assigned to train at different hotels and restaurants in the area. During the week we were housed by our employers, but on weekends we would return to our home base, an old Bed and Breakfast in a tiny country village that had been turned into student housing. Many of our weekends were spent traveling to different restaurants, vineyards, farms, and assorted culinary points of interest; basically eating and drinking our way through the countryside.

During the week I trained as a backwaiter at a small Inn nestled in a picturesque river valley. The chef and owner was short, thick, and grey; and very much looked the part of French chef at a charming Burgundian Inn. He used to do this ridiculous King Kong impression, swinging from a support column in kitchen and beating his chest, trying to show off his knowledge of what I can only assume he thought was relevant to American college students.

The restaurant’s main dining room was surrounded by windows overlooking a stone patio, a 19th century river mill, and the lush walls of the valley beyond. At night the river and the overhanging trees were lit up to provide a stunning backdrop for diners. The kitchen specialized in upscale versions of homestyle regional classics like escargots, blood sausage with apples and butter, pates and terrines, and fresh trout.

The trout was so fresh in fact, that it was still swimming just before dinner service. At the back of the kitchen they’d diverted part of the river and built a screened in cage where they held live farm raised trout that were delivered once a week. One of my jobs before dinner service was to go out and scoop up 5 or 6 trout with a net and bring them into the kitchen.

I was completely surrounded by amazing food and, at the time, I was a vegetarian.

For those of you who don’t know much about the different regions of France, Burgundy is very rural farming country, and in 2003 the idea of someone choosing not to eat meat for reasons other than religion was completely unheard of. I knew going into the experience that if I didn’t want to starve (or upset my employer) that I would have to at least try to eat some fish. Lucky for me that the restaurant specialized in trout, so ate some fish I did. Now that I eat meat again, I still regret missing out on so many of the other amazing foods I politely turned down over those three months.

As a backwaiter, my main job was to bring finished dishes to the dining room and present them to our guests. My french was probably better than most of the group I was traveling with, but still left a lot to be desired. The restaurant was used to students with less than perfect French, so I was taught a series of pre-rehearsed lines to rattle off for each course during the dinner service. Despite my bad French, most Americans guests at the Inn had no idea that I was from the states. I’d recite my French lines and be on my way, never betraying the fact that I wasn’t a proper French waiter.

That was, until the couple from Rochester came to visit.

The Husband ordered our Truite au bleu, and neither of them knew what they were in for. Truite au bleu, or Blue trout, is a dish that’s prepared by taking a just-killed and cleaned whole trout and soaking it in vinegar before gently poaching in broth. After cooking the chef would prop the trout up on it’s belly so it looked like it was live and swimming, despite the fact that the skin had turned blue and started to peel off the flesh. It’s totally delicious, but I will admit that it’s appearance can be a bit off-putting for most Americans.

Before the plate even hit their table, I knew instantly that this couple was from Central New York. As I approcached them and the wife caught a glimpse of her husband’s dish, her hands went over her eyes and she started losing it. “Oh my gahd! Oh my gahd! That is just too much! Oh my gahd!”, all while peaking at the trout between fingers that were still covering her eyes. Growing up not far from Rochester, her accent was immediately recognizable to me, and I just started laughing and asked them (in English) where they were from. I just had to speak up after that reaction, and we ended up having a really had a nice conversation throughout their dinner. Her husband, by the way, ended up loving the trout.

My favorite trout dish at the restaurant though, was the Truite aux amandes, or Trout Almondine. I don’t have the exact recipe from the Inn, but it’s actually a pretty common French dish so this recipe is very similar. Trout Almondine used to be considered a very fancy pants French entree in the 1980s, but it’s since gone out of fashion here in the US. I think its completely delicious and I vow to singlehandedly bring this traditional French dish back in to American kitchens.

Even though it’s considered “fancy”, this is actually rather quick and easy to prepare. It’s also totally delicious and decadent. Getting trout fillets instead of cleaned whole fish makes things even simpler, but slicing your own fillets is actually pretty simple if you have a nice sharp knife. The mild white fish is dredged in flour and seared in butter for a crispy skin and tender flaky flesh. Then slivered almonds get toasted in the same browning butter with a sprinkle of fresh herbs, and then everything is spooned over the plated trout. Add a squeeze of fresh lemon and you’re done. Totally fancy. Totally French. Totally yummy.

Rainbow Trout Almondine

Servings: 2 servings
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2 whole rainbow trout (or 4 pre-sliced fillets)
1 tablespoon shallot, very finely diced
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, chopped
½ cup all-purpose flour
Salt and freshly ground pepper
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup sliced almonds
2-4 fresh lemon wedges

Cut your trout into fillets if they aren’t already. In a dish large enough to fit the fillets, mix the flour, finely minced shallots, and thyme; and season generously with salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Press the trout fillets into flour mixture and pat onto both sides to coat completely.

Heat 2 tablespoons of butter in the largest sauté pan or skillet you have, over medium-high heat. When the butter stops bubbling, try to place all four of the fillets in the pan, skin side down. If you have to do them in stages (I did), it’s fine, but you don’t want to let the first round cool for too long. Sauté the fillets for about 3 minutes, watching carefully that they’re nicely browned but not burned. Turn the fillets over and cook them for about 3 minutes more. Transfer the fish to warm plates while making the sauce.

Add the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter and cook over high heat until it stops bubbling and turns a nutty brown. Add the sliced almonds and stir until just barely toasted. Remove the pan from the heat and allow to cool for a few seconds. Toss in the parsley and a little salt and pepper and stir to combine. Pour everything over the trout fillets and squeeze with a bit of fresh lemon juice. Serve immediately, with lemon wedges, mashed sweet potatoes, and sautéed green beans if desired

zucchini & mint soup

So we have some dirt, soil you might call it, in the back behind our apartment.

Many people who are lucky enough to have soil behind their homes like to grow things in said soil. Some people even try to grow edible things. I myself would love to grow edible things, but my soil has the unlucky fortune of residing beneath a big horrible mulberry tree that shades it and prevents much of anything green from ever seeing the bright rays of the sun. Hostas and Ivy do okay, but nothing edible wants to have anything to do with my crumby dirt. I have a few measly herbs in pots, but they do more in the way of surviving rather than thriving. A few years ago I put in some strawberry plants. I think that in the two summers that they were alive they produced exactly 3 berries between them. They’ve since given up and made way for weedy clumps of clover and moss.

It seems that the rest of you don’t have such problems. In the past few weeks I feel like everyone in the world (but me) has been whining about having too much zucchini. It would appear that your soil, and the edibles sustained within, are getting all the sunshine a patch of dirt could ask for.

“Oh look at all this zucchini!”, you say. “Whatever shall I do with all of it? Woe is me!” Oh you poor things! What a burden. I weep for you.

I should be so lucky. My soil wouldn’t spew forth a bounty of zucchini if its existence depended on it. If I want zucchini, I have to buy it at the market like a common chump. Can you even imagine?

My zucchini deficit doesn’t mean though, that I’m immune to the wiles of all the drool-inducing photos and recipes that have been popping up all over the internet lately. Even though I’m not actively trying to rid myself of any zucchini surplus, I’m still forced to watch as you struggle and strive to use up all of yours. I don’t have the ill fortune of all this bounty, but thanks to all of your efforts, I now crave zucchini just the same. Thanks a lot guys.

I thought a nice light soup would be a great way to satiate my appetite for those big green beauties. When I started looking for inspiration though, most of the recipes I found paired the zucchini with basil. I do have a small basil plant in the back, but as if the paltry sunlight wasn’t enough, a little green caterpillar decided to add insult to injury and make swiss cheese of my poor little plant. I was a little worried that basil would be too strong a flavor to pair with mild zucchini anyway, so I tried to think of something else. It didn’t take me long to remember the mint I was given as a birthday gift, which somehow seems to be leading a happyish and healthyish existence.

So, zucchini and mint soup it was, and boy did it deliver. The mint and zucchini pair perfectly together, and the resulting soup is subtle, delicate, and delicious. It’s an ideal light supper for summer nights and hot weather. It’s just hearty enough to be filling, but isn’t at all heavy and definitely won’t weigh you down.

This soup is unbelievably simple and takes no time to make, but somehow manages to taste rich and complex. I’d definitely recommend using the highest quality chicken stock you can find, and if you have some homemade stock in the freezer, now would be the time to use it. Since the other ingredients are so delicate and mild, the stock really adds something. A good vegetable stock would be great here too if you want to make this vegetarian, and leaving out the yogurt would make it vegan.

Whether you have a stockpile to use up, or you have to pay for it like me, this is the perfect way to satisfy your passion for zucchini. This soup is packed with bright, fresh, clean zucchini flavor that’s amplified and deepened with the addition of fresh mint. It literally could not be more summery. It’s smooth and creamy, and retains just a bit of texture when pureed with an immersion blender. Adding yogurt brings a nice hint of tanginess, but if you wanted to keep it dairy free you could substitute a squeeze of fresh lemon juice instead. Served with a nice crusty loaf of white bread, this soup is a summery little bowl of heaven.

Zucchini & Mint Soup

Servings: 4-ish
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adapted from Gourmet Traveler

2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
salt and pepper to taste
4 garlic cloves, minced or crushed
1 large zucchini (about 6 cups), diced
4 cups chicken stock
½ cup fresh mint leaves, loosely packed

To serve:
greek yogurt or fresh lemon, extra-virgin olive oil, and mint leaves

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan or stockpot over medium heat. Add onion, season with salt and pepper, and stir occasionally until tender, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and zucchini and stir occasionally for another 5 minutes. Add stock, increase heat to high and bring to a boil. Add mint, reduce heat to medium, and simmer until zucchini is just tender, about another 5 minutes. Process with a hand-held blender until smooth. Alternately, pulse in a blender until smooth with no large chunks, but not completely pureed. Check seasoning and adjust to taste if necessary.
To serve, top with a dollop of greek yogurt (or a squeeze of lemon juice), a drizzle of olive oil, and a few fresh mint leaves.