A stack of corn cakes filled and garnished with apricot preserves with morsels of chevre (goat cheese) introduced for some tartness.
This week’s First Friday with Dorie recipe is the answer to every Iowa girl’s dream. Since I’m a born ‘n bred Iowan and more than a lil’ bit country, I consider myself an authority on CORN.
Dorie, did you know:
1. In 2011, Iowa corn farmers grew almost 2.3 billion bushels of corn on 13.7 million acres of land.
2. Iowa has produced the largest corn crop (most of it field corn) of any state for almost two decades. In an average year, Iowa produces more corn than most countries.
3. Corn has been the dominant crop in Iowa for more than 150 years!
The Sprout character was introduced in Green Giant® advertising in 1973. He is an apprentice to the kindly Green Giant® and helps the Giant tend the vegetables. The Jolly Green Giant® is the third most recognized advertising icon of the 20th century, behind Ronald McDonald and the Marlboro Man. (greengiant.com)
In fairness to our neighbors to the north, I’ll concede that the Jolly Green Giant and his sidekick, Sprout, raise more sweet corn for the consumer market than we Iowans. That’s why the canned corn you use for this recipe might have grown up in Minnesota.
Yes, for this recipe we are using canned corn, those sweet little krammed-with-karbohydrates kernels. Dorie suggests we find a can that is without sugar or corn syrup. Although corn is low in saturated fat, cholesterol and sodium, 82 percent of the calories in this food are from carbohydrates. It is, however, a good source of dietary fiber, thiamin and folate.
But I digress. French housewives have been using canned corn to make these little pancakes for years. Who knew? They were first introduced stateside in the mid-Eighties after world-famous chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten arrived here. He paired them with crème fraîche and caviar. Of course he did! Although they are fine as an hors d’oeuvre, they also are an interesting accompaniment to any meat dish to replace potatoes, rice, or noodles.
Mise en Place, the ingredients for making corn cakes. Just a few are needed for this simple delight.
For these little wonders, throw three ingredients, corn, eggs, and flour, into your blender or processor. Salt. Then use a tablespoon to drop the batter into a skillet well-lacquered with grapeseed oil (or, any mild oil). Once you achieve a golden color on each side (2 minutes per side), pat off the excess oil and transfer to the warm cookie sheet waiting in the oven.
When making pancakes for breakfast, my Mother would call these “silver dollar” pancakes in size.
After making the pancakes and cooling them to room temperature, I tried three different versions. Serving them with guacamole as a garnish to accompany my lunch of chilled corn and crab salad was delicious. For dessert, I made them into a Raspberry-Crème Fraîche Shortcake. So tasty. If crème fraîche is too strong a taste for you, try whipped cream instead. I just thought the three flavors, sweet fruit, tangy sauce, and corny cake, played well together.
Corn pancakes, garnished with guacamole and served as an accompaniment to chilled corn salad and crab.
For dinner, just needing a snack, I used apricot preserves as a filling for a corn pancake stack to which I introduced morsels of chevre (goat cheese). This idea was actually my favorite taste.
Corn pancakes filled and garnished with crème fraîche and added raspberries.
Although we don’t share recipes from “Around My French Table”, because we would like you to buy the book, I believe you’d make good corn pancakes by blending a 15-ounce can of corn with 2 eggs and 6 tablespoons of flour. Don’t forget the salt. To see how my colleagues, who probably aren’t “corn-fed” did with this week’s recipe, go here.
The world-famous Iowa State Fair butter cow is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year. As a kid, I would visit the butter cow during our family’s annual trip to the fair. As a Mother, I made sure my girls never missed the fair. (Rodney White/The Register)
A friend once commented to me, during a discussion of homes, square footage and rising construction costs, “I just admire and respect what people do with small spaces.”
That friend is definitely going to ratchet up her respect and admiration for me. Last week I finally came to terms with 940 square feet.
The Gant, a condominium complex in Aspen, where I own a tiny condo. Summer. (photo: condorentals.com)
The Gant, a condominium complex in Aspen. where I own a tiny condo. Winter (photo: orbitz.com)
Here’s the back story. For the past twelve months I have had to face the reality of my future lifestyle. Moving from our Colorado home of 20 years to the Las Vegas area in 2004 was definitely a good idea. I intended to oversee the recovery of my husband, Michael, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I needed and would have the support of my kids who lived nearby. Granted, at that time, reality was not yet my sidekick. Fast forward to 2012. While life in a warmer climate at a friendlier altitude has been kinder, it, of course, was not a cure-all for Michael. Yet the professional care he would eventually require and currently needs has been available and is excellent.
Anthem Country Club, Henderson, Nevada
Anthem Country Club, Henderson, Nevada
I have often written about the small gated-community where I live and the wonderful friends I have met. Anthem Country Club was a lucky discovery and I am grateful. For a woman who’s totally country, Las Vegas has been a hoot-and-holler love affair. Having never lived in a large city before, this has been one heck of an introduction to life-in-the-fast lane. There’s the rub. Living in Las Vegas is fast lane and I’m not. My life in Nevada has primarily revolved around an increasingly debilitating illness and one that now requires professional caregivers. This past year I’ve been forced by everyone to look forward. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan. At my age, that’s scary.
A welcoming flower arrangement from The Gant Staff
According to Thomas Exter, writing in American Demographic, more and more, middle-aged adults are finding themselves living alone. The most dramatic growth in single-person households will occur among those aged 45 to 64. Boom! Boom! Single households are expected to increase by a whopping 42 percent, a number that is staggering and unprecedented.
Here’s what I began to realize. Baby Boomers, be damned. I am a single, sixties-something woman and, in a flash, will become a seventies-something woman. Las Vegas and I cannot live together forever. To navigate around this large, sprawling city of 3 million people, I average 2-3 hours every day in my car. Notorious for bad drivers, with insurance rates to take your breath away, getting behind the wheel in Vegas is a gamble. NIght driving? Forget it. I no longer want to be my car’s best friend and my unwillingness to drive in Vegas at night has always been lifestyle limiting.
My condo kitchen is small and compact – HELP!!!
There are more closets, but, not many. Probably need to cut the clothing budget.
In addition, may I remind you about Nevada summers? For the past seven years, I’ve tolerated summertime with good cheer and a “It’s not so bad”. I lie. One-hundred degrees and higher. For months and months. This is no lie: I have no more sweat to donate to the cause.
Finally, what last Winter’s hiatus on California’s Central Coast, as the guest of a good friend, highlighted, was the fun of companionship. Never eating a meal alone. The daily repartée. Sharing chores and responsibilities. Unfortunately, this only exacerbated the loneliness of the past few years.
My Colorado Backyard
My Colorado Sideyard
Author J. Kerby Anderson, in his book “Signs of Warning, Signs of Hope, Seven Coming Crisis That Will Change Your Life,” discusses the baby boom generation’s crisis of loneliness. The reasons are simple, he says, demographics and social isolation.“In previous centuries where extended families dominated the social landscape” he writes, “a sizable proportion of adults living alone was unthinkable. And even in this century, adults living alone have usually been found near the beginning (singles) and end (widows) of adult life. But these periods of living alone are now longer due to lifestyle choices on the front end and advances in modern medicine on the back end.”
My first night in Colorado – dinner with good friends.
Hosts Donna and Bernie Grauer, welcoming me home
These facts have kept my mind preoccupied and whirling the past year as I’ve explored my options. Moving to the same California community as my daughter and her family? Although I’d be welcome, my son-in-law turns pale, paler and palest, at the thought. And I agree. Last December, I thought I had put together a blueprint for moving forward that would make me happy, secure, and content. Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, that plan fell apart and I found myself back at “Go.” Then, on April 22, the headlines:
“It reached 99 degrees Sunday in Las Vegas, a record high for April, according to the National Weather Service.”
I needed a plan. Fast. That’s when Serendipity called in the form of our long-time Colorado tax accountant, Mark Kavasch. Usually these calls cost me money. This, however, was merely a ‘check-in, taxes were filed, let’s talk about the upcoming year’ call. Mark, ever the professional, discussed the future and then, uncharacteristically, finished his call with these words, “You know, Mary, Michael wouldn’t like this. He wouldn’t like it at all. You need to get back here [Colorado] to your friends and the mountains. You really do.”
My Colorado home may be tiny but the dining room table has plenty of room for family, loved ones and good friends.
Mark’s advice became my permission and my plan. Last Wednesday I made the ten-hour drive to Colorado, returning to a community that has changed dramatically in the past eight years. But so have I. My condominium is tiny but that makes it manageable. I can walk or bike everywhere, safely. Although the mountains seem steeper and the bears are still lurking, the trails are nearby, at my back door. My friends of the past 25 years saved me a place at their tables. Of course there’s sadness and memories that bring some tears. That’s natural and healthy, I’m told. But, at long last, life seems good again.
With apologies for paraphrasing someone wiser than I,“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
If you’re a vegetable gardener, and, I am, it’s probably not a great idea to live in the Rocky Mountains at an altitude of 8,000 feet and count on harvesting a wide variety of herbaceous plants. But, I’ve happily called the Rockies my home for more than 25 years, so you learn to sprout what the soil and climate will bear.
Hey, we’re talking potatoes!
Every year we would plant. Each Fall, before the snow started to fly, we would dig. Then, it was Potato Party time for all our friends.
I cannot do justice to explaining the thrill of sinking a pitchfork into the dirt to discover those little critters just waiting to be plucked. Check out Seamus Heaney’s poem, “At a Potato Digging” for that. I will admit it’s a cultivation-treasure hunt. We were the scavengers and, you bet, my fingers did sometimes ‘go dead in the cold‘, as Heaney eloquently explained.
Yukon Gold Potatoes and Lemons – Ready for the Pot
A Beautiful Scene, Simmering in the Pot
I thought I had served potatoes ‘every which way but up’. So, I was pleased to discover Dorie’s featured recipe for the week, a broth-braised version. While the preparation may be similar to mine, the result is more sophisticated and sublime. That translates to “Hold the butter!”.
In Dorie’s own words, “Think of these as energized boiled potatoes. They get the same high marks as boiled potatoes for playing well with others and extra points for having more flavor, since they’re cooked in chicken broth infused with garlic, herbs, lemon zest, and olive oil.”
I served these potatoes for Supper this week to my friends, Matt and his eleven-year-old daughter, Casey. They’d introduced me to Geocaching and we’d just returned from an afternoon of treasure hunting of another kind. (I’ll save Geocaching for a future Post.)
These potatoes deserved better than burgers but, hey, we were hungry.
Since we had hiked miles, exploring and in pursuit of caches, we were hungry. Starved. Famished. While I served turkey burgers with whole wheat buns and coleslaw to accompany the broth-braised potatoes, I might suggest planning a milder meal to compliment these spuds. However, this worked for us. In addition, the following morning, the hash-browned leftovers with the frittata were yummy.
The caveat to this meal is an apology, Readers, for the burger condiment bottles on the table. They were removed and then were mysteriously returned prior to picture-taking. Do not blame the eleven-year-old.
The 11-year-old Pre-Teen has already figured out that Men will always be Boys.
“Oh, Dad, I KNEW you were soooo going to get into trouble.”
Among the many interesting people I met, after moving to Aspen in 1988, were two well-known authors, Judith Barnard and Michael Fain. Both were successful in their respective careers prior to collaborating, in 1982, as the popular and skillful husband-wife writing team, Judith Michael. “Deceptions” was their first blockbuster. In their twenty-three year career, ending with “The RealMother” in 2005, they published eleven well-received books of fiction. (And, incidentally, kept their marriage intact.)
Authors Judith Barnard and Michael Fain. Nora Feller Photograph.
I decided, after enjoying their friendship and loyalty for more than a decade, that I needed to not only read every book they had written but also collect them for my library. To do that, rather than ordering via Amazon.com, tooeasy, I choose to embark on a Second-Hand Hunt. For the next several months, I haunted second-hand bookshops, thrift/goodwill stores, library sales and, antique malls. Within 15 months, I had collected all their books, many showing the wear and tear of having been lovingly read. (“The RealMother”, 2005, had not yet been written.) The total co$t – under $25.00.
I lugged all ten books to their home, triumphantly deposited them on their desks, and asked that they be autographed. Yes, most of the books had already been personally signed but I just suggested an additional inscription be added. To their credit and with good humor, they re-wrote-and-returned within the week, each book inscribed with a wonderfully special message. To this day, I display and treasure my Judith Michael collection.
So, here’s the Santa Snap – don’t discount second-hand, inexpensive books for holiday giving, hostess favors, birthday gifts, or presents of any kind. Scout out classic cookbooks for your favorite chefs. If a friend has a favorite genre, mysteries or science-fiction, perhaps, buy several written by various, well-known authors in that category. There are fabulous drawings and images in used and vintage childrens’ book, useful for enjoying or framing. Tabletop tomes are expensive but plentiful and cheap if you purchase used volumes.
Next week, as we march into 2012, I will Post favorite, must-read-books suggestions, solicited from many of my friends. It’s a forever-list of inexpensive, thoughtful gift-giving, if you go second-hand. Be creative – use “used” to your advantage to explore and discover and $ave and get personal. As a bonus, for every used-book you buy, there’s a tree who’s eternally grateful.
Twenty-three years ago my Aspen friend, Belinda, who was 64 at the time and considered, by me, to be elderly, shared a confidence. “One of the secrets to aging well,” she explained, “is to have young friends.”
Belinda, a Renaissance woman, well-traveled, smart and amazingly witty, has never lacked for friends. At that moment in time, she was inviting me to join her friendship circle. I was the young buckette and delighted to have an opportunity to know her better.
To this day, I consider her to be one of those treasured crown jewels who has added depth, perspective and meaning to my life. While I will always be her younger friend, the tables have now turned and I find myself remembering her wise words.
Do not misunderstand. Long-time friends are important, essential and irreplaceable. In the past seven years, my dearest school friends, Mary Ann and Gayle, have stepped up to revitalize faded friendships, providing me emotional support as well as nostalgic laughter. There’s something about friends you’ve known since fourth grade that is priceless.
I’ve also held tightly to older friends, Dotty, Betty and Ruth, for example, who provide good counsel and wisdom. Nothing fazes these women although I sometimes test them mightily. Distance has only strengthened, not lessened, my 25-year relationship with Canadian friends, Jean and Kent. http://millerharding.com/ We Americans could take a few lessons about “enveloping worldliness” from our neighbors to the North. And, I’ve previously written of my Aspen bonds that remain unbroken: https://www.lightsonbrightnobrakes.com/you-can-go-home-again/
According to the Drs. Oz and Roizen, The You Docs, “Socializing and laughing with friends can cut your odds of memory loss in half, and make you twice as likely to avoid disabilities that could cramp your late-life style. Socializing,” they say, “boosts your chances of staying mobile and being able to manage everything from meals to meds by a whopping 150 percent. Staying mentally, physically, and socially active helps keep both your brain and body pumped up and tuned in.”
So, my advice? Keep building up your friendship circle and set your sights on some young people, ten to twenty years younger. Plug into their vitality while realizing their frame of reference is a decade or two apart from yours. Feed off their energy and point-of-view. Honor and understand their differences. Amazon, to them, is not a river. Columbine is a Colorado high school not its state flower. Gloria Steinem, one of the most important women of my generation, is 77 years old. Say, who? Jimmy Carter is a kindly, elderly man who builds houses. Most of them have never asked nor had to tell. https://www.beloit.edu/mindset/
Now, don’t be silly about this. Act your age. Dress your age. Be your age. Enjoy young friends for what you may offer each other. Know when to put up borders, draw the line or fade away.
I am wealthy in young friends. While it’s up to them to say how I enhance their lives, I’m quite clear about what they offer me on a daily basis. Some examples…….
Blanca, an Aspen neighbor, moved, with her family, onto our block ten years ago. Having anointed myself the Silver King Drive Welcome Wagon, I baked brownies and arrived at her doorstep. Instant. It was instant. I love people with passion and she is passionate about, well, about everything. Blanca is contagious.
As are part-time Aspenites Mindy and Dale, professional artists whose talent is only surpassed by their kindness. http://www.karlhollinger.com/ I am Iowa. They are South Beach. I am dazzled by their creativity and ideas. They attempt to keep me from being “so yesterday.” ( With mixed results)
I pick my battles with my younger Colorado friends who are athletes, Luky, Cathy and Donna. No, I cannot hike up Aspen Mountain. Yes, I could manage Smuggler Mountain and ride my bike to Woody Creek Tavern. These are not women who suffer Wimps but, for the sake of friendship, they slow down and permit breathing.
Are you getting the picture?
In Ray, my Nevada neighbor, I have a friend who sees the world through rose-colored glasses. He’s generally upbeat. Always happy. This is a man I could live with, and, yes, I’ve asked. Michelle, my fanatical foodie friend, has cajoled me into trying six different kinds of oysters and all sorts of weird food. I do not like oysters nor eat food I cannot spell.
Every week my tech-savvy pals, Kathy (374 friends) and Ellen (635 friends), try to find me Facebook buddies. I have 31. They need to work harder. Greg, while trying to keep me fit, gets pummeled with more medical questions than my doctors. He does his homework and usually comes up with sensible answers. Medicare, be damned. And, Adriana, who lives nearby and is also an early riser, checks to see that my lights are on by 5:30am. If my lights aren’t on bright, she calls. I am serious.
“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” Walter Winchell
