Sauteed Corn with Cilantro and Avocado

Let us say, for the sake of argument, that you are trapped in Tahoe. In a condo, overlooking the lake. With the sound of water lapping away below you.

Clearly, the circumstances are dire.

(You pause, to contemplate the pink tinge of sunset washing over the dire circumstances.)

To make matters worse, there is nothing in the fridge. Well, there's corn, technically. And there is a bag of rice on the counter. And there's a bit of cilantro. But there are no beans. And nothing else. A clove or two of garlic, yes, but nothing you could make a meal out of. And you are—did I mention?—totally trapped. The only way to acquire proper dinner ingredients would be to find your sandals, track down the front door, open it, walk out, get in your car, and...well, you can see the problem. Even the first part would be too much for a sunset-addled brain.

Fear not, good readers. Dinner is hidden everywhere. Even when all you've got is rice and corn and a sunset to steer them by.

Serve this over Bhutanese Red Rice or one of the nuttier varieties of brown rice. And don't be fooled by its simplicity. It is totally amazing, and worth making even if you have to go to the store. Or, you know, send someone to the store while you make sure the lake keeps lapping.

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 medium clove garlic, smashed
3 ears sweet corn, shucked, de-silked, and kernels sliced from the cob
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Large handful fresh cilantro, chopped
1/2 - 2/3 cups grated pepper jack cheese (Petaluma Creamery is still by far our favorite)
1 avocado, quartered and sliced just before serving
1 small ripe tomato, chopped and tossed with a bit of the cilantro

Heat a pan over medium heat. When hot, add a glug of olive oil (just enough to lightly coat the bottom), wait ten seconds, then add the garlic. Saute for about a minute until it softens slightly, then add the corn and a pinch or two of salt and stir. Saute 2-3 minutes until the kernels are al dente (they should still retain a hint of crunch while also bursting with juicy sweetness...just taste them every minute or so until they taste amazing, then stop cooking).

Turn off the heat. Toss in about two-thirds of the cilantro, sprinkle with pepper, then taste and adjust salt and cilantro as needed.

Serve in layers: Rice first, then a thin layer of cheese, then the corn. Top with avocado, and add a dollop of the tomato salsa to finish it off.

Serves 2-3.

Adventures with Breadfruit

Our recent and much-needed vacation in Kaua'i gave us a chance to explore a whole new set of whole foods. The hands-down winner for weirdness (from our limited mainland perspective) was breadfruit—that round, green thing behind the papayas in the picture to the right—which we found first on a labeled tree in the Limahuli Botanical Gardens, and then growing by the side of the road as we hiked down to a beach on the north shore, and then in the weekly Kilauea farmer's market on a Thursday afternoon. The third time, we grabbed it.

Then we took it back to our little rental cottage, set it on the table gleefully, and wondered what on earth to do with it.

According to the internets, which we fortunately had, you can roast it over a fire for an hour. We didn't have a fire, but we had a Weber, and so we stuck it on the grill for an hour (medium heat, lid closed, in case you're thinking of doing this yourself) until it was charred on all sides and the stem end softened enough to yield a bit to firm pressure. Whereupon we removed it from the grill and photographed it. Obviously. Because that is what you do when you've cooked a breadfruit for the very first time.

Then we tried a variety of things.

Thing #1: We followed more internet advice and halved the breadfruit, peeled off the outer shell, scooped out the inner seeds, and sliced it. Only we, um, kind of dropped it somewhere between the grill and the cutting board inside, because it turns out holding it by just the stem isn't the fool-proof idea it seems when you first pick it up, so it didn't so much slice as break apart into pieces. Then we served it, hot, with butter, salt, and pepper. It was totally different from anything we'd ever eaten, and okay. Not mind-blowing, but worth it just to try.

Thing #2: We fried leftover breadfruit pieces in butter (they're kind of reminiscent of potato or sweet potato, only not), and served them with a papaya. This was better, although still a bit dry. Probably if you used a ton of butter, it would work well (don't try using olive oil...the taste is too strong for the mild breadfruit flavor).

Thing #3, and the winner, was to cook it with bok choy or tatsoi in a little coconut milk. Recipe coming soon to a blog near you.

Till then, I will be here, home again, complaining about the sudden change from summer to winter and the claustrophobic nature of socks.

Wordless Wednesday: Kauai Edition