Corn Chowder?
Corn has been on my mind this month, mostly I’ve been making corn ribs: roasted and lightly torched, tossed with grated garlic and finished with a squeeze of lime. I’ve been daydreaming about owning a grill, firing ears of corn and peaches for salad with burrata and tarragon. So anyway, corn inevitably went in this week’s recipe, which I think might be a corn chowder?
I say “might be” because I can’t find a strict definition on what makes a chowder… chowder. Some say it’s the added cream or milk, others say it’s started with a roux of flour, fat and cream, or a chowder is chowder because the chopped ingredients are left chunky. I’m definitely not an expert because, admittedly, I haven’t eaten much of any chowder variety before.
Through the process of learning about this dish and where it came from, I learned about Fannie Farmer who published one of the first recorded recipes for it in 1896 in The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book. Fannie is notable for bringing a more standardized way of writing recipes in the recognizable format we see in cookbooks today. In the book’s preface she writes, “It is my wish that it may not only be looked upon as a compilation of tried and tested recipes, but that it may awaken an interest through its condensed scientific knowledge which will lead to deeper thought and broader study of what to eat.”
I’ve learned to appreciate the fact that almost nothing we create is ever truly unique, that there’s rarely a “first” of anything. It sounds like a no-brainer in theory, but cooking has helped me learn this more practically. There is no “first” cookbook, no “first” recipe, no “first” or true definition of corn chowder. To me, creating a corn-based soup with some of my favorite and newfound ingredients was a way to explore what certain things can become in different contexts and how my definition of those things might change.
For me, this is what cooking is and why I connected to Fannie’s introduction of the book. There are so many things I’ve learned from cooking that have condensed themselves into a moment, leading me to make my own version of what might be recognizable as corn chowder. So, if you make it, I hope you enjoy it. I found it to be creamy but not rich, a little thick but not heavy. And best of all, very corny.
Some of the ingredients in the recipe may not live in everyone’s kitchen. I wouldn’t have had them without recently learning recipes from the book Evergreen Vietnamese by Andrea Nguyen. Shrimp paste, for instance, isn’t something I had used before but it adds such a deep, umami-garlicky component. Mushroom Seasoning is an alternative for MSG (not that there’s anything wrong with MSG) and I’ve found it really effective. For both of these ingredients you don’t need to use much. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is even if you buy these just for this recipe, (wow, what an honor) they should last a while.
3 ears of corn (or use frozen, ~3-4 cups)
1 tbsp grapeseed oil
.5 yellow onion
1 tbsp olive oil or other fat
2 tsp fish sauce
1 tsp shrimp paste
2 tsp mushroom seasoning
Juice of 1 lemon
3 scallions
~8-10 shrimp, peeled, deveined, and chopped
1 oz can coconut milk
3 cups chicken (or vegetable) broth, or 3 cups of water w/ better than bouillon
If you’re using ears of corn, shuck them and slice the corn off the cob. Take the corn (either shucked or frozen) and toss in a bowl with about 1 tbsp of oil (I used grapeseed) and a generous pinch of salt. Roast them in the oven on broil for about 15 minutes, or until you can hear a slight crackling in the oven and it’s become a richer color.
While the corn is roasting, let your onions canoodle with some olive oil (it might be fun to try chicken or duck fat here) in a pot large enough to hold the contents of the chowder since you’ll be putting all subsequent ingredients in here.
Once the onions get slightly translucent and smell nice, add the fish sauce, shrimp paste, and mushroom seasoning. Let all this get to know each other for a few minutes while you roughly chop the scallions and juice the lemon.
Add the chopped scallions, let them glisten and become a little soft, then add the lemon juice.
Add the broth and coconut milk.
By this time your corn should be finished from the oven, add it to the soup.
Use an immersion blender or regular blender to break everything down. There shouldn’t be any big chunks of scallions once you do this, but fibers from the corn will probably still be present. If you want it chunky, blend a little less.
If including, add the shrimp.
Serve it with some sour cream, sliced scallions or chives and freshly cracked pepper.