Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Corn Days

Summer hits full throttle when the corn trucks back into our local markets and dot the sides of our county roads. Spilling from truck beds with reckless abandon, the fresh picked ears embody the essence of summer. Gather and shuck. For some folks, shucking corn is a mundane chore. Not this guy. Shucking corn, layer by layer until the wispy silks fly into the air like delicate gossamer threads,  gets me every time. It never gets old. Silver Queen. Ambrosia. Peaches and Cream. Bi-Colored. Any Variety. Any time. All the time. When the first waves of corn start rolling in, the first few dozen might best be eaten straight from the cob slathered in butter and dusted with salt.
After that, anything goes.

Chipotle -Tomato Jam Glazed Shrimp and Chorizo with Mexican Street Corn Salad

Full throttle.

Jamming.
Whether it's for work or for play, I make a lot of tomato jam. It takes a little time, but it's very forgiving and the payoff is huge. Here's deal with the tomato jam.  Even with hints of warm spice, fresh ginger, garlic, vinegar, and sugar lending complex tangy sweetness, the not-too-sweet long simmered jam still packs a big fresh tomato punch. Almost any tomato variety works for jam. During tomato season, I usually gather the culls and the uglies. If those aren't available, I shoot for the heirlooms. No seeding or peeling necessary. The peels add body and texture to the jam.

After coring 4 pounds of very ripe Mercer County heirloom tomatoes, I diced them into 1" pieces and tossed them into a large stock pot, adding the residual seeds and juice. After cranking the heat to medium high, I added 1 cup light brown sugar, 1 cup white sugar, 1/4 cup lemon juice, 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar, 1 heaping tablespoon freshly grated ginger, 1 teaspoons cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon ground clove, 1/4 teaspoon allspice, salt, and cracked black pepper. When the tomatoes started to bubble and spit, I reduced the heat to a simmer and let the jam rip for 2 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally and adding a splash of water if it appeared too dry. When it reduced to the  sticky consistency of jam, I finished with 2 tablespoons reduced balsamic to boost the sweet tang and a generous dusting of salt to level the playing field.  When the jam was cool enough to handle, I spooned it into a 1 quart mason jar and slid it into the fridge to chill.

Chipotle-Tomato Jam Glaze.
Kicking it up.
After warming 1 1/2  cups of the reserved tomato jam over a low flame, I added 1 minced chipotle
pepper in adobo sauce  along with 1 tablespoon of the smoky sauce. When the chipotle pepper melted into the jam, I pulled it from heat and set it aside.

Skewering.
Surf 'n' Turf on sticks.
After peeling and deveining 1 pound 16/20 count large shrimp, I nestled 3/4" thick half moon slices of smoked Spanish chorizo into the curved nooks of the shrimp, skewered them with pre-soaked wooden bamboo skewers, wrapped the skewers with blanched Marion County green onions, brushed the shrimp with the chipotle tomato jam, and set them aside to marinate.

Shucking.
Leaving the husks intact for easy handling,  I peeled back  the husks, layer by layer, from 5 large Benton Farm Ambrosia corn cobs, pulled the feathery silks away, and tossed the ears (along with 2 halved limes) onto an oiled hot grill until they started to blister (about 4 minutes per turn). Just before the corn popped, I pulled the ears from the grill and carefully sliced the kernels from the cobs.




Esquites
Mexican Street Corn Salad.
Packed with the same ingredients as Elotes, grilled Mexican street corn on the cob, Esquites is the somewhat less messy daintier version. Forget the corn facial.

After mixing the warm cut off corn kernels with 2 tablespoons fresh squeezed grilled lime juice, I added 1 1/2 tablespoons mayo, 1 1/2 tablespoons Mexican crema, 1/3 cup Cojita cheese, 4 sliced green onions, 3 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro, 8 halved Pulaski County Sun Gold cherry tomatoes. 2 teaspoons ancho chili powder, salt, and cracked black pepper.

With the salad on deck, I slid the shrimp/chorizo skewers onto the grill and turned them from time to time, brushing them with additional chipotle tomato jam after each turn, until the shrimp cooked through, about 4 minutes per side. When the shrimp caramelized from the smoky heat,  I pulled skewers  from the grill, and nestled them over the esquites.

After splashing the shrimp and chorizo skewers with grilled fresh lime juice, I finished with a sprinkling of salt, a dusting of chili powder, fresh cilantro, scallion spears, extra grilled limes, and halved Pulaski County perky red cherry tomatoes.


Corn Daze.

Full throttle.

Get your summer on.







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