Summer Cornbread: Fresh Corn, Browned Butter, Basil & a Peach

If you're anything like me, you enjoy a fat wedge of hearty cornbread alongside your favorite winter soup. It's even better drizzled with honey. Growing up in the wilds of Minnesota gave me insight into the cornbread experience, and it wasn't all good. Cornbread can, in fact, be awful: so gloppily thick that it's even difficult to improve with quantities of honey.

It's taken some time to perfect my cornbread recipe. My standard fare is rich with browned butter and textured with corn, usually of the frozen variety because I make it in winter. But I decided — due to the leftover cobs frowning at me from the depths of the fridge — to try creating a summer staple. (No worries, I kept the browned butter aspect.)

Fluffy and moist, this bread pairs well with a fresh salad and, as always, honey. It barely clings together and offers an intense corn-centered experience with fresh corn, cornmeal and corn flour. The peaches nearly dissolve if chopped finely, creating a hint of sweetness on the tongue, fragrant with basil. It's not a fast recipe, though it bakes up quickly enough once you're organized, but it's a nice changeup from the usual sweet corn recipes and it smacks of summer. If you love cornbread, don't miss this delicious version!

Summer Cornbread
Makes 8 wedges or one castiron skillet's worth

1/2 cup unsalted butter

2 cobs of corn, husked, kernels sliced off the cob (about 1 cup or so)
1 large peach, peeled and diced
1/4 cup basil, chopped (I used sweet purple but green is just as nice)

3/4 cup AP flour
1/4 cup corn flour (or another 1/4 cup AP)
1 cup cornmeal
3/4 tsp kosher salt
2 tsp baking powder
3 T sugar

1 cup soymilk + 1 tsp cider vinegar (or 1 cup milk)
1 egg

Note: If you have a castiron skillet, I highly recommend you use it here for both browning your butter and baking the cornbread. If not, use a saucepan for making the browned butter and an 8"x8" baker or deep dish pie plate for the cornbread. I'm going to proceed as if you own a castiron skillet.

Does your browned butter look like this? A little caramelly in color means yummy flavor.

Preheat your oven to 425º and set your skillet on the stove over medium-high heat with the stick of butter inside. It will melt as the skillet heats up. You're looking for the foaming part of the butter solids to brown and fall to the bottom of the pan, where they'll start to smell really nice for you. When this happens, take the skillet off the heat, swirl the pan to coat the sides a bit — this is for when the bread starts baking – and then pour the butter off into a glass or ceramic bowl to cool. (If this is your first time making browned butter, keep an eye on it the whole time. Once it starts to brown, the process goes quickly from browned to burnt.)

Dry ingredients mixed together with corn, peaches & basil

Measure the dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and swirl together well with a spatula. Prep your corn, peach and basil on a cutting board and then toss them into the dry ingredients. Mix lightly, until everything is coated with the flour mixture.

And into the oven you go!

Pour the soy (or milk) into a separate bowl and add in the egg. Whisk to combine and add in the slightly cooled browned butter. Pour over the dry ingredients and fold gently with the spatula, just until no clumps of dry flour remain. Smooth batter into the warm skillet and bake for 20-25 minutes. The top should be puffed, dry and golden brown, and the edges around the pan should be browned and crisp where we left that nice ring of butter.

The longer it cools, the better the slices will hold their shape. I can manage to wait about 10 minutes, however, so my first slice is more of a pudding. Mmm, corn pudding.

Ready to go outside and eat on the patio...

Breakfast Pizza

You heard me.

People make all kinds of things for breakfast, and I like pizza. Not just the leftover kind all the time either.

Back when I worked at the bakery, I introduced this pizza, topped with eggs and chorizo, and everyone's nose turned up slightly as they asked "What is that?" And yet, they had to try it. Within a week, it flew off the shelf still warm. The local favorite was a vegetarian Greek variety. It's been three years since I made this pizza, and I'd nearly forgotten about it.

Then I had a plastic container of pizza dough from Whole Foods (they make excellent dough, if you are in a hurry), and my husband craved his favorite pizza buffet the night before. So I was wondering why on earth I should make another regular pizza when I finally remembered my yummy breakfast treat.

Funny thing, I had never made it at home. George turned up his nose at the thought of breakfast pizza, and I laughed with the memory. "It's made of pizza," I flung back at him confidantly, "you'll love it." And he did.

The one trick to breakfast pizza is cooking the crust a bit first so your scrambled eggs don't get overhard. But otherwise, it's just like making breakfast on top of a pizza. I cook the eggs separately, until they're barely set, and then load everything on top of a halfway cooked crust. This one in the photos is the simplest pizza you can make, just a few slices of tomatoes and cheese atop soft scrambled eggs and a salsa-tomato sauce. It's easily improved by olives, capers and feta, cooked hash browns and leftover veggie sausage — anything you can imagine on pizza. Feel free to experiment. Breakfast pizza is delicious and super easy!


Breakfast Pizza
Makes 1 large pizza for 3-4 hungry eaters

1 recipe of pizza crust or the small size Whole Foods prepped crust, at room temperature
1/2 cup pizza sauce
3/4 cup salsa
2 red potatoes, very thinly sliced
6 eggs
2 T cream
1 T butter
1-2 ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced
1-1/2 cups pepperjack cheese, or a mix of mozzarella and cheddar, shredded

Heat the oven to 450º with a pizza stone inside. (If you don't have a stone, use the back of a baking sheet instead.) Let the oven come to temperature.

Scramble the eggs into a bowl with the cream and heat a frying pan over low-medium heat with the tablespoon of butter inside.

Cover your potatoes with saran wrap and microwave for 2 minutes, until they are soft. They should be very nearly cooked through.

Once your oven's hot, roll the dough out to the size of your pizza stone, usually about 12-14" in diameter and slide it onto the stone. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until the crust is dry on top and the bottom is starting to brown.

While the crust bakes, cook the scrambled eggs, continuing to scramble them slowly in the pan. It should take about 8-10 minutes for the eggs to grow somewhat solid, still really soft, but not runny. If they seem to be setting too quickly, turn the burner down. When they're getting close to set, turn the burner off and remove the pan from the stove.

When the crust is out of the oven, slather the sauce and salsa onto the crust. Spread potato slices over the sauce/salsa. Layer the eggs over the sauce, and then the tomato slices. Sprinkle the cheese evenly over everything. I usually sprinkle a little pepper on top, too.

Bake another 8-10 minutes, until the cheese is bubbly and hot. Let it sit about 5-10 minutes to let the cheese stand up and then slice and eat. Serve with more salsa.

Hummus Dressing

Another fantastic discovery today: hummus makes exquisite salad dressing. Think about it. Don't be a-feared. Why not loosen it up and pour it over your favorite cut vegetables — things you'd otherwise be dipping in it?

I had seedless cucumbers, tomatoes and carrots on hand, but this would be delicious with some red onion, green pepper, even some whole chickpeas, tossed in. And some toasted baguette slices to sop up the dregs. What I love about these lettuceless salads is their longevity. Crisp and refreshing, they stay that way while I eat them, a bite here and there, between answering my baby's alternating cries and squeals.

Hummus Dressing
Serves 1

Use a large spoon for "measuring" and just eyeball it, then use the same spoon for stirring and eating your salad!

1 T of your favorite hummus (homemade works great!)
1 T water
1/2 T olive oil
1/2 T red wine vinegar, if desired
pinch salt + freshly ground pepper to taste

"Measure" everything into an empty jam jar and shake vigorously. Pour over 2 cups of chopped veggies, stir and eat.

Whole Orange Cake

Yes, it's spring. I should be rhapsodizing about rhubarb or pea shoots. Just let me get this out of my system.

You see, I had to skip the entire citrus-eating season this winter. Blah, blah, baby stuff... I'll spare you. And now, with the end of my pox at hand, some friends brought me an entire bag of oranges, and a handful of lemons, FROM THEIR TREE. Now, I ask you, how do I pass that up?

A quick shuffle through some of my cookbooks gleaned a whole orange poppyseed loaf from The Sweet Melissa Baking Book that sounded amazing. Anything that uses the whole orange is worth a try. It turned out nicely, the crumb drier than I like and I used all of my poppyseeds in the first iteration, but the recipe ended up being a fantastic springboard.

Now that I live at altitude again, a few alterations are necessary to baked goods in order to avoid a floppy, sunken center. After making the recipe for the third time, I hit on the perfect combination of revisions. I reduced the sugar and weighed the oranges, since mine were small, adding an extra one and finding the cake's flavor even more pronounced. I added oil to the recipe and got a cake with the nicest crumb, soft and moist. If I had it unpacked, I would've made this into a bundt cake!

If you find, as I did, that you are not quite finished with oranges this season, grab a few lovely specimens and bake this cake.

Whole Orange Cake
Makes 2 or 3 loaves, depending on pan size
Note: You will need a food processor for this recipe!

For the cake:
2 large oranges (or 16-18 ounces of smaller oranges)
1 + 3/4 cups sugar
5 large eggs
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 cup vegetable oil
5 tsp baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt
1-1/2 cups flour (minus 3 T for high altitude baking)

For the glaze:
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
juice of half a large lemon
1/2 cup sugar

Preheat oven to 350º (or 325º for high altitude bakers) and oil or butter two 9-inch bread pans or three smaller ones. Place the loaf pans on a baking sheet — just makes it easier to slide them into the oven.

Remove the green stem from the top of your oranges and cut oranges into a few pieces. Pulse the orange pieces and the sugar in the food processor until the oranges are finely ground with no chunks larger than mustard seeds. Add the eggs and pulse until smooth, then add the oil and melted butter. Scrape the sides down and pulse several more times for good measure.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda and salt. Pour the orange mixture into the flour mix, scraping the sides down to get every bit, and gently fold together with a spatula. When the batter is smooth, pour an even amount into your baking pans.

Bake 45-60 minutes, until a toothpick inserted comes out clean and dry. The loaves won't necessarily brown much because of the orangey color, so you'll have to watch them near the end. You want them set, but just barely, so the center is moist. Let the loaves cool 30 minutes in the pan, and then turn them out onto a cooling rack while you make the glaze.

Mix glaze ingredients in a small saucepan and let come to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer two minutes, until thickened. Brush the glaze over the sides (start there, turning as you go) and then the top of each loaf. Pour any extra over the top and let it puddle or drip down the sides. It's really good so you don't want to waste any!

Try to let the loaf cool completely before you tuck in or you'll risk drying out the nice crumb. If you absolutely must, set the loaf onto the counter, cut side down, while it finishes cooling.

*This freezes really well, wrapped in parchment and then plastic or a tupperware.

Oatmeal Coffee Cake

My crush on coffee cake goes back decades. At fourteen I worked as a kitchen assistant at a day camp in Brainerd, Minnesota, where a handful of cabins ringed Rice Lake in two little boy/girl half-moons separated by an evil-smelling, leech-infested lagoon. My main task was dish washing, of course, and then peeling mountains of veg or prepping salad greens. Nothing too difficult for an amateur kitchen aide. But on Saturday mornings half of the staff had the day off, while the rest of us would enjoy a free Sunday. Thanks to our reduced staff, I had to wake an hour earlier and bake the weekly coffee cake. Two glorious, buttery batches of cinnamon-scented heaven that spread over four hotel pans.

Prior to this initiation, I had thought coffee cake (a) had coffee as an ingredient and (b) was reserved for old ladies’ tea parties with those little paper lace inserts on the plate. The camp recipe was nothing special, truly, and in fact when I snuck a copy home and insisted my mother help me scale back the quantity to family-sized, she balked, not wanting me to waste good ingredients on what was clearly a simple recipe designed to feed a crowd. I made it anyway, and for most of the following winter we had coffee cake every weekend. In fact, fifteen years and countless moves later, I’m still disappointed to have lost that particular recipe.

Instead I’ve tried a plethora of cookbook recipes for coffee cake and typically alter the simple one from Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook to suit my ingredients. Until this time.


While my mother-in-law was visiting, I had decided to make Molly’s Oatmeal Pancakes — my new favorite pancake recipe — with scads of the fresh blueberries I’ve been hoarding in the fridge. But we ended up going out instead, and so I had a puddle of oats soaked overnight in buttermilk to contend with that evening. Rather than throw them out, I decided to convert the pancake recipe into a coffee cake one. I ended up with a denser, textured coffee cake speckled with fresh fruit and a sweet, crunchy, cinnamony top. It’s less sugary than my usual version, but the crisp topping lends an extra dose of brown sugar and the fruit’s flavor shines through. I used both blueberries and peaches, fruits that I love to pair with oats, but one or the other would work fine. Or apples or raspberries. . . whatever.

Oatmeal Coffee Cake
Makes a 9”x13” pan

2 cups oats
2 cups buttermilk

Day one: mix oats with buttermilk and set in the refrigerator 24 hours or at least overnight.

3 eggs
¾ cup sugar
½ cup melted butter
1 cup sour cream
1 tsp vanilla (optional)

½ cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (or more all-purpose)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
¾ tsp salt

2 peaches, peeled and diced
2 cups blueberries, washed and picked over

For the crumble topping:
6 T butter
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup whole wheat pastry flour (or more all-purpose)
½ tsp cinnamon
pinch of salt

Day of baking (day two): Proceed as usual. Heat the oven to 350º and oil a 9”x13” baking pan.

To make the topping, in a clean bowl, use your fingers to rub the butter into the dry topping ingredients until the mixture sticks together when pressed and has the texture of wet sand. Set aside.

Into the oat mixture, add the eggs, sugar, melted butter, sour cream and vanilla. In a separate bowl, mix the dry ingredients together, whisking to combine.

Prep the fruit for the filling and then mix into the dry ingredients (this helps the fruit not to settle at the bottom of the cake). Pour the wet oat mixture into the dry flour mixture, stirring to combine. Fill the baking pan with the mixture and spread evenly. Crumble the topping evenly over the batter.

Bake, uncovered, for 35-40 minutes, until the cake is set in the center and nicely browned. Let cool 15 minutes before serving.

Note: Because of the buttermilk in this recipe, please refrigerate any leftovers and reheat gently in the oven wrapped in foil.

Mexican Lasagna

No, she’s not the prettiest dish to look at, but she’s tasty and filling and she works up fast. Give her 30 minutes to bake…er, heat up, really, and dinner’s on the table.

I’ve been craving less spicy forms of Mexican food lately. After 32 weeks of enduring this pregnancy, I’m finding heartburn to be a real appetite dampener. It sucks. I’m always thinking oh that sounds good, and then my eyes narrow and visibly question whether I’ll want to keep burping it later. A grimace. Usually the answer is no (with occasional exemptions for samosas or ginger broccoli). So making my own form of Mexican food is a good compromise that lets George dump salsa over the entire thing later (he craves the extra flavor) while letting me get to sleep painlessly.

It’s a pretty simple lasagna idea: swap in tortillas for noodles and proceed as usual. I mix a splash of salsa and lots of sour cream into the cheese layer, so it gets creamy and thick. Then I use enchilada sauce for the liquid and blend a little into the refried beans and some chopped up olives so they’re easier to spread. We have lovely corn here lately, and I find the sweetness of it in this dish adds a nice contrast, but you can take it or leave it. Then I added a crisp handful of lettuce and halved tomatoes to the hot lasagna, finishing it off with a nice crunch and some texture.

Mexican Lasagna
Serves 6

12 oz can enchilada sauce (I used green chile)

8 fajita-size tortillas (can use flour or corn)

12 oz can vegetarian refried beans
6 oz can diced olives
2 cups cheddar cheese, shredded

2 cups fresh corn, cut off of the cob
2 T cilantro, minced
jalapeno, minced (optional for those without heartburn issues)
½ red onion, minced (optional for those without heartburn issues)

1 cup sour cream
2 cups monterey jack cheese, shredded
½ cup salsa, as spicy as you like

For serving:
4 cups shredded lettuce
1 cup diced tomatoes
sour cream
salsa

Heat the oven to 350º and oil a round baking dish, about the size of your tortillas or slightly smaller. Pour about 2 T of the enchilada sauce in the bottom and press a tortilla into it. Pour another 1 T of sauce over the first tortilla and stack another one on top. This is your lasagna base.

Shred your cheeses and reserve a large handful of each in a bowl.

Make the refried bean layer by mixing the whole can of beans, cheddar, and the whole can of olives in a bowl. Add about ¼ to ½ cup of enchilada sauce, just enough to make the beans spreadable. Layer a third of your bean mixture on top of the tortilla in the baking dish.

Blend the corn with the cilantro (and the optional onion and jalapeno) and scoop 1/3 of the mixture onto the bean layer.

Mix the jack cheese with the sour cream and salsa in a bowl. Spread a third of the mixture over the corn in your baking dish, then add a tortilla. Spread 1 T enchilada sauce evenly over it and sandwich a second tortilla over that.

Layer the beans, corn and cheese on your tortilla sandwiches twice more, ending with a tortilla layer at the top. Pour the remaining enchilada sauce over the top tortilla (there shouldn’t be much left) and sprinkle with the reserved handful of cheese. Bake, covered with foil or a lid, for 30 minutes, until the beans and cheese bubble at the edges of the dish. Remove the lid and bake another five minutes to give the cheese some color.

Serve with a handful of lettuce and sprinkling of tomatoes, and more salsa and sour cream, if desired. A side of guacamole and chips is always appreciated.

Yellow Cake (for Jello Cake)

I've had a few disappointments lately.* First and foremost was this jell-o cake gone wrong. I believe it had something to do with my overly ambitious game plan. See, first I made my own gelatin mix out of fresh blackberries that were wasting into a juice puddle in the fridge. Then I doctored up a yellow box cake (so I wouldn't have to pack it along to Denver, right?) with leftover apricot jam and reduced the oil. And lastly I didn't make nearly enough whipping cream for the top, not to mention I used every single blackberry in the jell-o, leaving none for decorating the top. That was the least of my concerns. The foremost was the taste of it.

My jello turned out okay. I know this because I had some leftover and tried it plain. I followed the package directions for those generic gelatin packets and added hot blackberry juice, from smashed, boiled blackberries that were strained thoroughly, instead of hot water. So this part I would do again.

The box cake was my primary enemy here. Overly sweet and with that gummy, box-cake taste. I shouldn't have used it. The apricot jam had a little bite of lemon to it, which helped, but overall the paired sweetness of jello with cake was too much.

Next time I will use my usual from-scratch yellow cake. It's not too sweet but also dense enough to stand up to the jello without going soggy in a day. I will also recommend loads of whipped cream on the top, dotted with fresh berries. My very favorite is raspberry jello cake, and I can eat half a 9"x 13" pan in 24 hours. Then I eat it again the following day for breakfast. When I can gather up my courage, I'll be making a blueberry version.

Yellow Cake
Makes a 9" x 13" pan or 24 cupcakes

1 cup unsalted butter at room temperature
1-1/2 cups sugar
2 tsp vanilla
4 eggs

3 cups + 3 T all-purpose flour
1 T baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

1-1/4 cups milk

Whip the butter and sugar together until creamy, then add the vanilla and mix in one egg at a time until light and fluffy. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the butter-sugar-egg mixture a cup at a time, alternating with a third of the milk, so that you end with the rest of the milk mixed in last. Pour into your buttered pan and bake at 350º for 30-35 minutes (18-20 minutes for cupcakes). Let cool completely.

To make a jello cake, use a straw or skewer to poke holes all over the surface of the cooled cake. It won't be pretty and it doesn't have to be even — you'll cover it with whipping cream soon enough —, but the holes let the jello soak in. Prep a package of jello or make your own, about 2 cups worth, and pour it over the cake. Cover and chill until the jello is set, about 2 hours. Make whipping cream by whisking (at least) a pint of heavy cream with 3-4 T of powdered sugar and a swig of vanilla. Spread whipping cream over the cake and garnish with berries to compliment your jello flavor. Eat cold and keep refrigerated until you've licked the empty pan clean. Wonder how long you can go without making another one. Wonder if you should add bits of fruit to the cake batter this time (you should). Wonder why you ever eat cake without jello (you didn't know any better). Practice all kinds of self-forgiveness and bake another cake.

* Note: Second was this Bon Appetit recipe for tagliatelle pasta with fresh corn pesto, which I admittedly made without the bacon. The color of it is particularly unappetizing unless you are doing a photo shoot for a magazine and tucking bits of corn and basil attractively throughout, and the flavor was just okay. Mostly the color of it grossed me out — sort of snotlike. Their recipe for Shaved Zucchini Salad with Parmesan and Pine Nuts redeemed the meal, however.