I am not well versed in writing from a place of joy. I am good at bleeding- on pages and otherwise. I once wrote a poem titled “I Don’t Write Love Songs” and I didn’t…
Until now.
It’s not that I can’t write from a place of joy, or that I am joyless. Even the parts and chapters of my life that had less still had some.
But writing about the messy shit, the hard parts, the bloody bits came faster, easier and generally with a sense of catharsis I couldn’t otherwise access. While I know that I am not alone in this, I would be lying if I said that it doesn’t feel better-
More expansive, softer. I feel like a better writer, being able to shine instead of only bleed. When I am writing from a place of joy, about joy or love and/or being in it, I am reveling. I am reveling and reliving his smile or my kids’ laughter, or the way I felt holding produce grown by friends and preparing to feed my family with it.
I think it’s important, the sharing of what is real and true, despite it’s ugliness but I think it’s just as brave, especially now in this late-stage, capitalistic hellscape, to turn your face to the sun and let people experience your shine.
There is much to fret over these days, pick your poison, and I do. But there have been things I laughed hard at, like discovering that Anaya will sometimes eat tuna, straight from the tin, no additives, no nothing while sitting at his desk, too busy to do otherwise. Or watching Maddox, my youngest, do that too-familiar toddler dance of bouncing up and down, the occasional foot stomp that is never on cue but always the answer and that I will never get enough of. Hot pour-over by a morning campfire with nowhere to be and nothing but time. Tiny moments where you think to yourself, “I remember when this is what I wanted.”
And then there is corn (and tomatoes, and peaches) but specifically and today, there is corn, which happens to be a summer little-joy of mine (so long as it’s removed from the cob, I know, I know) straight from the farmers market. Few things pull at my creative kitchen-brain the way summer produce does. While I am still not over tomatoes yet, I am excited to temporarily shift focus to corn, starting with corn chowder.
As usual, I shy away from staking claim or putting myself into a box. This corn chowder is similar to “traditional” or even “New England” but mostly, it’s just mine which is just fine.
There is bacon which is non-negotiable for this in my opinion. Onion, of course, garlic of course, but I also add in a very small dice of red pepper which you can take or leave, but don’t leave of the thyme, k? I learned a trick via Melissa King and their recipe for Corn-Coconut Soup which is divine and you can find here, which involves using the corn cobs in the stock. This may seem fussy and requires slightly longer inactive/simmer time, but is also worth it, at least to me,
Produce season here in Denver is weird. It’s relatively short, goes later than what some folks are used to (I was still harvesting tomatoes late September/early October when I had my garden) and lacks variety. Soon enough it’ll be a lot of apples and green chiles around here, but today it’s corn. Let me know what produce you can’t get enough of and if you end up making this, yeah?
Note: Use frozen corn and fuck the cobs in the stock if that’s all you’ve got in the tank xx
Corn Chowder
6-8 Servings
Prep: 20 minutes
Cook: 1 hour 30 minutes
6 ears of corn, kernels removed and saved, cobs saved (or 4-5 cups of frozen corn)
1 medium yellow onion, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 red bell pepper, small dice
1 pound creamer potatoes, halved or quartered
6 slices bacon, diced
2 Tablespoons butter
6 sprigs fresh thyme
6 cups vegetable or chicken stock
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup sour cream
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 big heirloom or beefsteak tomato, diced
Cook diced bacon in a heavy bottomed pot, remove once crispy and reserve half of the fat rendered.
Add onion, bell pepper and thyme sprigs, cook for 5 minutes over medium heat. Once it’s sweated, add a sprinkle of salt and the garlic, cook for another three minutes. Then add in the stock and the corn cobs (that you removed the kernels from) and simmer for 60 minutes.
Remove the corn cobs from the pot and discard. Add in the potatoes, a couple generous pinches of salt, and cream and bring to a boil, boiling for 10-12 minutes or until the potatoes begin the break down a bit, helping to thicken the soup.
Add the corn kernels, a couple sprinkles of salt and a few grinds of pepper, and simmer for an additional 10-12 minutes or until the corn is soft. Put roughly 1/3 of the chowder into the blender and puree, depending on your desired consistency. Pour it back into the pot, stir in the bacon, reserving some for garnish, as well as the sour cream. Ladle into bowls and serve with bacon, green onion and tomato garnish.