Stepping out

When I use that phrase about my cooking, I mean I'm not following my guidelines of seasonality and local products. I don't like to, but here in New York, there are times where it becomes very difficult to do that, and then you grant yourself an exemption from your own rules.

As I've written, we have soup every week, usually on Monday night, when Guy is in rehearsal. And you can make WONDERFUL soups from the winter vegetable family. But there does come a time when many of them are gone. For example, there are almost no storage carrots left. The leeks are gone. The only beets left are the monsters that could take out Godzilla with one shot. And of what is left, we've eaten so many of them that it has begun to be more than boring.

When this happens, some people, myself included, look west, to California, and see what's in season there. Indeed, while we are waiting for warmer weather, California is seeing asparagus, fava beans, snap peas, and other goodies. And do know that I have been taking advantage of this. No one seems to have any problem with this, and honestly, neither do I.

Controversy arises, however, over the issue of "storing" food. If you take some summer produce for example, and freeze it, or can it, and you use it during the winter, are you eating and living seasonally?

Know what? WHO CARES? But I have been thinking about these issues over the past few days because, faced with the prospect of YET ANOTHER potato based soup, I went into the freezer and found several bags of sweet corn that I had taken off the cob and frozen over the summer. Now, in late March, where summer still seems like a small speck of a ship on the horizon, a bit of that summer flavor is certainly welcome. So, into the kitchen I went, with my idea of a corn soup.

I will also say, up front, that corn on the cob is not something that I look forward to or relish. Call me unamerican, but I find it more of a bother than it's worth. I know that all of the United States is not with me on this one, but it just doesn't "do it" for me. Corn soups, on the other hand, of any type, make me extremely happy. As does cooking them. And one of the reasons I like cooking them is that corn , while not a vehicle like chicken stock, goes so well with so many things. (My favorite one, incidentally, which I will post in late summer, consists of corn, water and salt). Looking around the kitchen, I found some of the "sisters" of corn. Many of us here in the Northeast know the traditional traid of sisters : corn squash and beans. That's not universal, however. And one of the variables you'll find, especially southwest, is the use of chilis. And I had two cans of chopped green chilis on the spice table, and that's where I was heading. I also had a half a jar of some wonderful, spicy red pepper pickles. Sure sounded right to me, because in late summer, a simple saute of red pepper, green pepper and corn is superb eating.

Soup like this needs a base, though, and there was a simple one right there in front of me: carrots, onions and celery. A quick dice of each, to give me about 3/4 cup of onion, and 1/2 a cup of the others, and the soup was beginning to come together. I coated my soup pot with v egetable oil (olive oil doesn't seem to work here), and sauteed those aromatics, with about a teaspoon of salt. When the sizzle had dropped in intensity, I opened up the cans of chilis, and sliced up the red peppers and tossed them in. I sauteed for about three minutes, just to get them hot and slightly broken down. Then the corn went in. Probably about six cups of kernels. They were still frozen, for the most part, and you can do this with soup: add the veggies still frozen. Finally, in went 6 cups of chicken stock. I stirred this together, and covered the pot, until I could hear a vigorous bubble. When I got to that point, I lowered the heat, and let the mix simmer for twenty minutes. What I'm looking for in corn soups is the point where the kernels are just softening. I don't want mush, but I DO want the kernels to be soft enough so I don't have to chew them that hard (it IS a soup after all).

When this was finished, there was a lovely spiciness about the soup, that a bit more salt brought out brilliantly. There was one more thing to do . Remember when I wrote about corn previously, and talked about corn starch, that wonderful thickener? Well... there was the corn. So the thickener was there already. But of course, you have to get it out of the kernels.

That's what blenders do really well. I poured about three cups of the soup into a blender and, because it was still hot, I left the cap slightly ajar (don't puree hot liquids in a blender unless you've got some venting, and then don't fill the blender more than half full. Trust me here).

The pureed soup left a wonderful thickness and mouthfeel to the whole pot, and it's just wonderful.

Now, you can play with this soup. You can add half and half or milk, which will give you almost a "Southwest chowder" feel, or you can add some sausage or other left over meat and make it a more solid and substantial meal. You could even get more southwestern, and squeeze some lime juice into it, if you haven't used any dairy. And you could also put in creme fraiche, or some corn chips, or frankly, perhaps a spoon or two of a thick tomato paste. But in any event you've got some really good eating going on here, with very little work.

Give it a try. I'm not apologizing for using late summer produce in the early spring. Hey, a guy's gotta use wht he's got, huh?