Archives for May 2013

I’m one of those weird people who enjoys going to the grocery store. We’ve discussed this before, I think, when I’ve mentioned my affection for grocery lists that are organized by aisle. And I think that at this point in my life, organizing a grocery list according to the store layout is just part of who I am. It’s what I do. Sort of like the way I get teary-eyed whenever I hear “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” Or the way I clap my hands when I see a Popeye’s three-piece fried chicken meal, spicy and extra crispy, with red beans and rice on the side.

What? You don’t do that?

Last spring, however, I fell way off my grocery game. Between family, work, and a big ole book deadline, I quit planning our meals like I typically like to do. I made lots of little trips to the grocery store instead of one big trip at the beginning of each week, and I’d pretty much plan dinner while I was putting stuff in my grocery cart.

I’ll go ahead and admit that the whole “planning in the store” method is not exactly cost-efficient. Not to mention that it leads to impulse purchases like fancy noodles that you can’t even pronounce and a significant surplus of cheeses.

This year, though, the grocery side of things has been under control again (my laundry, however, is still a source of agony and no small degree of shame). I usually make a grocery list on Monday mornings, and I shop for the week on Monday afternoons. Shopping on Mondays seems to work pretty well for me, primarily because I LOATHE AND DETEST going to the grocery store on the weekends.

(Hi. How are you? Welcome to this week’s installment of First World Suburban Problems.)

(I kind of loathe myself right now.)

Anyway, this has all been a very long preamble so that I can tell you that ever since I’ve gotten back on a grocery shopping schedule, I’ve been trying to add a little variety to our vegetable consumption. I’m the first to admit that I fell into a major asparagus rut over the last two or three years, and last year’s failure to plan meals made the rut even deeper. Asparagus is just so easy – but it was getting old. And since there are a lot of very nice and tasty vegetables out there, I’ve been trying to embrace a few of the ones I haven’t cooked in a long time.

Which brings us to corn.

Last week corn was on sale at Publix, and I decided that I’d grill it and serve it with steaks. The only problem was that it rained and rained the day that I was planning to grill the steaks, so I ended up cooking them in the skillet (DELICIOUS) – but I needed a plan B for my corn. I’d made some chipotle butter earlier in the day (that makes it sound like I churned butter – but it’s just 1 stick softened butter combined with 1/4 cup finely sliced green onions and 2 or 3 pieces of canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, chopped), thinking that I was going to slather that butter all over the corn before I grilled it. Only I did not in fact grill it. So I was in the throes of a corn dilemma.

Here’s what I ended up doing.

I shucked the corn, cut it off of the cob (I had six ears) and I did that whole thing Mama used to do where she used the back side of the knife to “juice” the corn a little bit. That sounds sort of gross, I know, but it adds so much flavor. I put a skillet on medium heat, and once it was hot, I added about a tablespoon of canola oil and a tablespoon of butter. Once the butter melted, I threw all the corn (and its liquid) into the skillet and stirred it around for a minute or so. Then I added (these are totally estimates – just go with whatever tastes good to you) 1/2 teaspoon of Kosher salt, 1/2 teaspoon of sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of cracked black pepper. I stirred that around a bit, and then I added 3/4 cup (-ish) of half and half, reduced the heat, and stirred a little bit more.

Recipes aren’t nearly as riveting in paragraph form, are they?

Sorry. I’m just trying to remember what I did as I’m typing this. Probably not the strongest method.

For the next 15 or so minutes, I just kept an eye on the corn. I’d stir – taste – add a pinch more salt or a smidge more half and half. And once the corn was tender and seasoned like we like it, I turned off the heat and HERE IS THE IMPORTANT PART: I scooped about a tablespoon of that chipotle butter on top of the corn. I gave it time to melt, then stirred it all together.

Oh. LET ME TELL YOU WHAT.

It was so good, y’all. And while I know that the half and half didn’t hurt, I really think that it was the chipotle butter that sent that corn over the top. DELICIOUS.

The day after our steak and corn dinner, I was in the kitchen when D got home from work. When I turned around to tell him hello, he had sort of a far-away look in his eyes, like he was thinking about something important and trying to figure out how to put it into words.

“What is it?” I asked. “Is something going on?”

He stared into space for a few seconds before he asked me a question.

“Do you know what I thought about all day today?”

“I have no idea,” I answered. “What?”

“THAT CORN,” he replied.

I rest my case.