The Cornbread Gospels (41 page)

Read The Cornbread Gospels Online

Authors: Crescent Dragonwagon

S
ERVES
2
AS THE MAIN ITEM
, 4
AS A SMALL SIDE DISH

Flat, almost pancake-like cakes made with fresh corn cut from the cob, these, fried in oil, are the type of fritter I grew up eating, only they taste even better now because of the super-sweet, very tender corn on the market today. Because contemporary corn is so sweet, these fritters no longer require even a squib of the maple syrup that used to be de rigueur. Hugely delicious, simple to make—and how convenient it is that at the height of fresh corn season, exactly when you don’t want to be heating up the oven, they’re cooked on the stovetop.

Caution:
Occasionally a kernel of the fresh corn will make a loud pop during the cooking process, as the moisture in the kernel turns to steam on contact with the hot fat. Don’t be startled, but do stand back a bit so as not to get splashed with hot oil.

2 eggs

¼ cup milk

Kernels cut from 2 ears of fresh corn, about 1 cup, plus any scrapings of liquid you can get by running a knife blade along the cob (see Shuck and Jive,
page 49
)

2 tablespoons stone-ground white or yellow cornmeal

¼ cup unbleached white flour

1 teaspoon sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

2¼ teaspoons baking powder

Mild vegetable oil, for frying

1.
Whisk together the eggs and milk in a large bowl. Stir in the corn and any corn liquid.

2.
Combine the cornmeal, flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder in a medium bowl. Sift this dry mixture into the wet mixture and stir together to make a batter that is thick but still can be dropped from a spoon.

3.
Pour oil into a heavy cast-iron skillet to reach a depth of ½ inch. Place the skillet over medium-high heat and bring the oil to 365°F, using a thermometer to gauge the temperature (you can also use an electric skillet, which will tell you exactly when you’ve reached this temp). When the oil has reached 365°, lower the heat slightly to keep the temperature stabilized, and drop the batter by tablespoonfuls onto the skillet. It will sizzle as it goes into the oil. If the first fritter doesn’t sizzle, wait and let the oil get a little hotter before adding more fritters. Don’t crowd the skillet, because crowding will bring down the heat; no more than 4 to 6 fritters, not touching, at a time.

4.
Let the corn fritters cook until they are golden and crispy on the underneath side, about 3 minutes. When it’s time to flip them, the edges will be colored just slightly and will be noticeably firmer, and the top of the fritter will no longer be moist. Reverse the fritters. Allow about 3 minutes more on side two. As they cook, line a tray with paper towels or torn-open brown paper grocery sacks.

5.
Place the cooked fritters on the paper towels or brown paper and blot them quickly with another piece of paper. Serve immediately, nice and hot.

V
ARIATION
:
E
THEREAL
S
OUFFLÉED
F
RESH
C
ORN
F
RITTERS

Separate the eggs, adding the yolk in step 1 and the beaten-stiff egg whites (see Beating Egg Whites,
pages 186

187
) at the end of step 2, folding them in ever so gently.

·M·E·N·U·

E
ND OF
S
UMMER
S
PREAD

Chilled Cucumber-Yogurt Soup with Grapes and Fresh Mint

*

Salad of Mixed Greens with Blanched, Chilled Green Beans, Scallions, Tomatoes, and Mustard Vinaigrette

*

Steamed Fresh Edamame Served in the Pod

*

Fresh Corn Fritters

*

Butternut Squash Purée

*

Fresh Plum Cake, Dusted with Powdered Sugar

*

Decaf Café au Lait

C
ORN
F
RITTER
S
TORY
#1

Okay, this story goes way, way back. I was eighteen, living in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, sharing a tiny house with my then best friend Maren, also eighteen. I was a high-school dropout, she a college dropout, and we both thought we were reasonably grown-up.
As if.

Each week we walked the mile or so into town to take a Wednesday night yoga class with a sweet guy named Toby. Very serious, very … self-consciously spiritual.

The class was vigorous, and long, so we would usually wind up eating a very early dinner before we walked in. One particular summer night our pre-yoga feast was a supper of corn fritters.

Wouldn’t you know that was the evening poor Toby, explaining why it was necessary to really focus on your poses while you were in class, used the unfortunate phrase, “After all, you don’t want to fritter away your time here.”

Maren and I, friends since the fourth grade, looked at each other from our respective mats and simultaneously burst into a storm of giggles, which became laughs, which became gigantic snorting guffaws, disrupting the entire class. Had we still been in school, it would have gotten us sent to the principal’s office or at the very least merited a curt “Would you two mind sharing what’s so funny with the rest of the class?”

Toby was too kind to expel us. We explained, apologetically, but still wiping away the tears of laughter. The class (everyone else was a good five or ten years older than Maren and me) laughed politely, but didn’t really get it. We all went back to our asanas, Maren and I scrupulously avoiding eye contact, like the sophisticated, mature eighteen-year-olds we were.

I
NDONESIAN
–S
TYLE
C
ORN AND
E
GGPLANT
F
RITTERS

S
ERVES
6
TO
8
AS AN APPETIZER OR SIDE DISH

I’ve tinkered over the years with this luscious recipe adapted from
Indonesian Food and Cookery
, a much reincarnated cookbook first published in 1976 by Sri Owen, one of the world’s most indefatigable, knowledgeable, but gentle authorities on Asian cooking. I remember copying Sri’s version onto a card from a library long ago—a card I managed to keep, much-splattered, all these years. If you like eggplant, spicy flavors, and sweet corn, and can imagine how good they might be together, you’ll know why I copied it out. Sweet, savory, chile-hot, semi-crisp from the frying … just addictive. To me, they are made to serve with an icy lemon or lime drink, alcoholic or not, and a sweet-hot salsa, like the one that follows.

1 medium eggplant, peeled and cut in ½-inch dice

Salt

2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil

2 tablespoons peanut oil, plus extra for frying

3 to 4 shallots, finely chopped

½ to 1 teaspoon cayenne or other red chile powder, to taste

4 large garlic cloves, halved lengthwise and sliced

1 teaspoon ground coriander

Kernels cut from 4 ears of fresh corn, about 2 cups (see Shuck and Jive,
page 49
)

1 tablespoon cornstarch

1 tablespoon stone-ground yellow cornmeal

1 egg

3 tablespoons unbleached white flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 bunch of scallions, white and 2 inches of green, finely minced

Chopped fresh cilantro, for serving

Pineapple-Ginger Salsa (
recipe follows
) or Thai sweet chile sauce, for serving (optional)

1.
Toss the eggplant with about 1 table spoon salt and set aside in a colander for about 1 hour. Then, quickly rinse the salted eggplant with cold water and drain thoroughly. Squeeze the eggplant firmly with your hands to get as much liquid out of it as possible; you want it as dry as you can get it.

2.
Select a large, heavy skillet with a tight-fitting cover. Set the skillet over medium-high heat with the toasted sesame oil and 2 tablespoons of the peanut oil. When the oil and skillet are good and hot, lower the heat slightly and add the shallots and cayenne, stirring nonstop for about a minute. Add the garlic and stir-fry for another minute. Add the reserved eggplant, stir-fry for another minute, then stir in the coriander, lower the heat a bit more, and cover the pot tightly. Let the eggplant steam in its own juices until tender, 3 to 4 minutes.

3.
Remove the skillet from the heat and scrape the eggplant into a large dish, the better to cool quickly. (Wash the skillet while you’re at it—you’ll need it again shortly.)

4.
As the eggplant cools, prepare the corn batter by placing the fresh corn, cornstarch, cornmeal, and egg in a food processor. Pulse-chop quickly to combine the ingredients and make a very textured semi-purée of the corn. Turn this mixture into a bowl. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt over it.

5.
Stir in the cooled eggplant and the scallions.

6.
Pour peanut oil into the skillet to reach a depth of ½ inch. Set the skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot enough to fry in (365°F on a thermometer, or test with a little drop of the batter, which should sizzle immediately and start to brown), drop the batter in by tablespoonfuls, flattening the fritters slightly with a spatula. Don’t overfill the skillet; no more than 4 to 6 fritters, not touching, at a time. Lower the heat to medium and let the fritters cook until golden brown, about 3 minutes for the first side and slightly less for the second side. Drain well on paper towels and serve, hot or at room temperature, with a scatter of chopped cilantro over the fritters and pineapple-ginger salsa or Thai sweet chile sauce on the side, if desired.

·M·E·N·U·

C
OOL
-
BY
-
THE
-P
OOL
A
UGUST
E
VENING

Margaritas or Fresh Limeade with Ginger

*

Indonesian–Style Corn and Eggplant Fritters

*

Pineapple-Ginger Salsa and Thai Sweet Chile Sauce

*

Chilled Short-Grain Brown Rice Salad with Roasted Tofu, Scallions, Tamari, and Minced Peanuts

*

Coconut Sorbet with Chilled Canned Lychee Nuts, Drizzled with Lychee Syrup

P
INEAPPLE
-G
INGER
S
ALSA

M
AKES
2
TO

CUPS, DEPENDING ON THE SIZE OF THE PINEAPPLE

An intriguing, refreshing salsa, just perfect with the corn-eggplant fritters. Find the ripest, sweetest fresh pineapple you can. There’s an easy way to tell: Just sniff the pineapples, looking for one that’s intoxicatingly fragrant.

P.S. This recipe calls for half a pineapple. Save the other half for a fresh pineapple upside-down cake.

Double P.S. When peaches are at their height, substitute 2 or 3 of them, ripe and preferably peeled, for the pineapple in this recipe.

Another pleasant variation is to use fresh spearmint either instead of, or in addition to, the cilantro.

½ medium-size fresh, very ripe pineapple, top and skin removed and eyes dug out, finely chopped

½ onion, very finely chopped

1 red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and finely diced

1 to 2 jalapeños, chopped (with seeds for heat, without for mildness)

½ teaspoon salt

Juice of 1 lime

1 to 2 teaspoons honey

2 teaspoons finely minced peeled fresh, tender gingerroot

1 to 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro and/or spearmint

Toss all the ingredients in a large bowl, adding the jalapeños to taste. Serve, or refrigerate, covered, for up to 2 days.

H
EY
, P
OP
!

Want to put some “pop” in your corn? Try one of my favorite popcorn ideas: Freshly popped corn is a terrific garnish on hot tomato soup, and, in the sounds-weird-but-is-too-good-to-be-believed category, try hot, freshly popped popcorn tossed with butter, tamari soy sauce, nutritional yeast, and finely grated Parmesan cheese.

H
OW
E
XTREMELY
S
WEET
I
T
I
S

If you’re old enough, you might recall the mythology surrounding fresh corn: that the pot of water must be boiling before you run to the garden, pluck the corn, run back to the kitchen, shuck it, and fling it into the pot—quickly, while it was still very sweet. This modus operandi was necessary, and did truly work, with the corn varieties of yesteryear. That just-picked, immediately boiled corn
was
extraordinarily sweet, on another order entirely from the regular super market or even the farmstand corn of that era.

Why did this procedure make such a shocking flavor difference to the corn of yesterday, but not today? Well, back then, the sugar in traditional fresh corn began to convert to starch almost instantly after picking. This traditional sweet corn has about 14 percent sugar, more or less what an apple or pear has. But it quickly—within a couple of hours of picking—becomes barely sweet at all.

This is no longer the case. Agriculturalists have tinkered with corn (which is, by the way, probably the single plant food most tinkered with by humans, sometimes lovingly and respectfully, as the natives of North and South America did it, and at other times more sinisterly, as with the large commercial breeders of closed hybrid corn or corn with its own built-in pesticides). By breeding a recessive gene that blocks the natural sugar-to-starch transition, seed developers have now made available “super-sweet” corn varieties, in which the sugars change only very slowly, if at all, to starch. These weigh in at 36 percent sucrose, more than double the traditional types.

If you buy fresh corn on the cob nowadays, the odds are very good that you are buying one of the super-sweets.

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