And Now for Something a Little Bit Different

Some corn comments. A recipe. A vintage menu. And a favorite place.

Given the current Oppenheimer mania, I thought you might be interested in hearing about the other Oppenheimer.

I got to know Frank Oppenheimer in the seventies when my first husband, Doug Hollis, was artist in residence at The Exploratorium. Today the super science museum occupies a swell building on San Francisco Bay, and it is an Institution with a capital I. But when Frank created the museum it was housed in The Palace of Fine Arts, a crumbling edifice left over from the Panama-Pacific Exhibition of 1915. I remember it as funky, dark - and enormous fun.

Blacklisted during the McCarthy era, Frank, as you will see, refused to feel either anger or regret. His restless imagination never stopped. He was a commanding and inspirational figure, and the museum he created attracted a collection of artists and dreamers; spending time there was always exhilarating.

My mother, as anyone who ever ate her food can attest, was a terrible cook. She did however, have one culinary triumph: My mother was the greatest corn cook on the face of the earth. Whenever she ate corn at someone else’s house she would take a bite and say dismissively, “Horse corn.”  

Somehow, Mom understood the chemistry of corn, understood that the moment it is picked the sweet sugar starts converting to starch. And she understood that it was worth buying the youngest, smallest ears she could find, so that the kernels were still small and bursting with juices.  

When we ate corn, Mom would put the kettle on to boil. Then she would call Mr. Renzulli, who had the farmstand down the road, and ask him to go out and pick a dozen of the smallest ears he could find.  She’d rush home with the corn, we kids would shuck it, and she’d throw it into the water for no more than two minutes.  Fifteen minutes after the corn was picked, we’d be slathering it with butter and eating it with joy.

I still buy the youngest ears I can find, and the most recently picked. I still cook the ears just long enough to melt the butter. And I still eat as much corn on the cob as I can get my hands on.

Here in the Hudson Valley the corn has come in both early and with spectacularl flavor. (If you live in my part of the world I want to recommend the white corn at Samascott Orchards.) But if all you have are inferior ears, there’s always the joy of corn pudding.

There are dozens of great corn pudding recipes, but this is my favorite. The flavor of the corn cobs are infused into the cream adding a whole new level of corniness. Then you grate some of the kernels and leave others whole so you get the occasional pop.

CORN PUDDING
6 ears fresh corn
1 cup cream
2 tbsp. sugar
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp. salt
5 eggs
6 tbsp. (3/4 stick) unsalted butter

 Preheat the oven to 350.

Using a box grater, coarsely grate the kernels off four ears of corn. Use a sharp knife to cut the kernels from two more ears. 

Put the cobs into a large skillet with the cream and cook over low heat until the cream is reduced to between 1/2 and 3/4 of a cup, and has been infused with the flavor of corn. 

Combine the corn kernels with the sugar, flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Stir in the infused cream. Break in the eggs, one by one, stirring to incorporate. 

Put the butter into an 8 or 9 inch cast iron skillet or an 8 inch square pyrex pan and put it into the oven until it is melted. Pour the butter into the corn mixture, give it a few good stirs, and pour the mixture back into the skillet or baking dish. Bake for about an hour, until it has turned golden and set.

This makes a very satisfying breakfast. If I’m serving it as a side dish at dinner, I cut the sugar down to a single tablespoon - or if the corn is very sweet, leave the sugar out altogether. 

Corn is simple, right? You buy it. You shuck it. You boil it. You eat it.

Still, here are a few notes to improve your pleasure.

1. Choose corn with bright green husks and damp white silk. If the silk is brown and shriveled, it’s not fresh. Look at the stem, where the corn was cut from the stalk; if it’s turned brown, the corn has been off the stalk too long.

2. Shuck the corn. To get all the silk off the cobs, run a damp paper towel across each ear: it will come right off.

3. I’ve tested adding salt, sugar and milk to the boiling water, and none of it makes a bit of difference. So just use plain water, at a good rolling boil.

4. Don’t cook the corn too long; if you want juicy kernels that pop against your teeth, a minute or two in boiling water is plenty. 

5. Butter the corn while it’s still hot, add some salt, eat at once.

When Tender at the Bone was first published we celebrated with dinners at restaurants all over the country. This Berkeley event was one of my favorites….

A few weeks ago I heard from reader Mary Henry, who thanked me for the Hudson Valley suggestions but asked if I’d move a bit north to the West Stockbridge area.

I do have a couple of thoughts. No. 6 Depot sells really good, ethically-sourced and locally-roasted coffee. And just across the street you’ll find one of my favorite places in the area - and one of my favorite bookstores in the world. Shaker Mill Books is a wonderland for bibliophiles, but the shop itself is only the beginning. Let me let them tell you, in their own words, about the best part of the experience.

“Next door, the rustic and sprawling Shaker Mill has evolved from a
convenient storage place for not-yet-shelved books into a wonder-filled
display space that almost defies description. You’ll find dazzling oversize
books that don’t easily fit on the shelves and tables at Shaker Mill Books...
exquisitely bound or illustrated books of ordinary size that might be
overlooked on a crowded bookshelf elsewhere... whimsical literary
displays (e.g. Eric’s typewriter collection, which children are encouraged to
experiment with)... book-related art... and art made from books (local artist
Deb Carter’s magnificent gown, The Read Dress, created with countless
pages from The Oxford English Dictionary, always elicits gasps of wonder).

The sales counter itself is a work of art, designed and built entirely with
books by Eric’s son-in-law Anthony D’aniello. On summer weekends,
master bookbinder Ken Gilbert demonstrates his fine work for visitors.”

As they say in Michelin - vaut le voyage…..