Black Bean and Corn Salsa Recipe

Black bean  salsa/A Cook and Her Books

I’m sure I’m not the only who finds themselves hummin’ a little Gershwin in these sultry late spring days. After the trees leaf out, but before the tree frogs start their thrumming, a chorus of “Summertime, and the livin’ is easy, fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high…” plays through my head. The song, as I’m sure you know, is from George Gerswhin’s Great American Opera, “Porgy and Bess,” set in sweltering summery Charleston. The songs are grand and glorious and so infectious that I tend to forget that I’m not exactly Jessye Norman when it comes to musical ability.

And yes, I do know all of the words, and I will sing them off-key at the drop of any hat.

Here’s a summertime recipe, a little salsa that I put together with ingredients from my pantry and the farmer’s market ~ canned black beans, fresh tomatoes and corn make for an easy and delicious salsa that can be a snack, or on a sultry summer evening with the proper beverage, a meal.

Bean and Corn Salsa

1 can black beans, drained

3 or 4 tomatoes, chopped, or 1 can fire roasted diced tomatoes

3 or 4 scallions, chopped

Kernels scraped from 1 ear corn

1 clove garlic, minced

2 sweet mini peppers, chopped

1 jalapeno, seeds & membranes removed, chopped

Juice of 1/2 lemon or 1 lime

Salt and pepper to taste

Cilantro, chopped, optional

One avocado, diced, optional

1.       Combine all ingredients. Adjust seasonings and serve with tortilla chips. Refrigerate leftovers.

A Taste of Summer, #SeriousSandwich

Caprese Sandwich. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

It may be the same blue sky here in Georgia, but my mind is still in Orange Beach, on the Alabama Gulf Coast, where we spent a gloriously lazy Fall Break last week. Sugar-white sand between my toes (it squeaks when you walk on it!), crazy amounts of fried seafood, and not a care in the world for a week.

View of the beach. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

 No alarm clocks, no homework, no clocking in and clocking out, just building sand castles during the day and strolling idly down the beach at sunset.

Orange Beach, Alabama. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Coming back home to evening temps in the 40s and seeing the trees turn their heathered shades of plum, ochre and sienna, I had in mind a final taste of summer ~ the Caprese Sandwich from "Emeril's Kicked-Up Sandwiches" (Morrow, $24.99). This sandwich is more than a Caprese Salad with a bread foundation and lid ~ Emeril kicks it up with garlic and olive oil, and you'll just have to buy the book to find out! (Trust me, you will find lots of great recipes to make for your family in this book!)

Caprese, open-face. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

I pulled the last of the basil from the garden, the plants offering scrawny, but still flavorful, leaves. Fresh mozz, a final juicy tomato, and there it was, summer on the plate. Like the sand buckets and swimsuits, beach towels and sunscreen, this recipe will be tucked away until next summer. And in July, when the heat beats down and the cicadas start to hum, my gardening friends will bring me homegrown tomatoes. And I'll slice up a Better Boy still kissed with the morning dew, layer it mozzarella, top it with the abundant, full, basil from my herb garden, and savor the taste of summer again.

Sunset at Orange Beach. Laura Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Text and images copyright 2012, Lucy Mercer. 

With the exception of Emeril's book cover, that belongs to Morrow Cookbooks.

Emeril’s Kicked-Up Sandwiches (Morrow, $24.99)

If you love cookbooks like I do, you gotta follow The Secret Ingredient Blog from Morrow Books. 

This post is part of #SeriousSandwich, a cookalong to celebrate the publication of Emeril's Kickked-Up Sandwiches. For more great #SeriousSandwich posts, follow #SeriousSandwich on Twitter.

Sufferin' Succotash

Summer vegetable soup with the flavors of succotash. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

 Or maybe I should say “Thufferin’ thuccotash!” in honor of Thylvethter, one of my favorite Thaturday morning cartoon characters? (Thorry.)

In these days of 24/7 cartoon networks and kids’ programming, the ritual of Saturday morning cartoons is lost. My kids can’t believe that I grew up with less than a dozen t.v. channels and that cartoons only came on Saturday mornings, ending with “Kukla, Fran and Ollie” at noon, then it was time for lunch and being rushed out of the house by my mom. “Go ride your bikes!” “Go see your friends!” we were admonished. (and we obeyed.)

This summer, we took the girls to Saturday morning cartoons at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta, a Looney Tunes festival, and my girls were introduced to Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Sylvester, Tweety Bird, Yosemite Sam, the Martian and all the gang. Sitting on the balcony, watching the Merrie Melodies reels, I wish I had worn my p.j.’s and brought my favorite blankie. 

And now in September, summer is persisting and so has the harvest. Before the markets are overtaken with cool-weather greens and winter squashes, I’m putting everything together in a soup. This summer vegetable soup is based on a recipe given to me by my friend Julie. Her mother makes it every summer with homegrown tomatoes, corn, okra and butter beans. I started off the same, but switched out the okra for green beans. The combination of tomatoes, corn and lima beans made me think of succotash. Cheers, Sylvester!

Summer vegetable soup with pimento cheese sandwiches. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Succotash Soup (Summer Vegetable Soup)

Peeling and seeding tomatoes is a pain in the patootie, but it really improves the final soup. After all, you’ll probably only make this soup once a year, when the last of the summer tomatoes are filling up your kitchen counter. It may seem odd to add the cobs to the soup pot, but my feeling is the cobs will give up the last of their corniness to the soup. Just skip the step if you think it’s weird.

2 tablespoons butter

1 onion, peeled and chopped into ¼ inch dice

8 ripe tomatoes

2 ears of corn

½ pound green beans, washed, trimmed and cut into 1-inch lengths

½ pound butter beans, shelled (I used frozen)

Water

Salt and pepper to taste

 
1.       In a soup pot over medium heat, melt butter and add onion. Add a pinch of salt and stir until onions are softened.
2.       Meanwhile, put a pot of water on to boil and have ready a bowl of ice water in order to peel and seed the tomatoes. Have a third bowl ready with a mesh strainer placed over it. Cut an X into the bottom of each tomato and place in the boiling water, being careful not to crowd the pot. After a minute or two, place the tomatoes in the ice water. Repeat until all tomatoes have been blanched. Using a sharp paring knife, peel the tomatoes, then slice in half ,and over the bowl with the mesh strainer, squeeze out the seeds. Use your knife and fingers to finesse the remaining seeds out of the tomato flesh. Chop the remaining tomato flesh into ½ inch dice and place in soup pot with onion. Add the strained tomato juice to the soup pot and discard the seeds.
3.       For the corn, when shucking the corn, be sure to remove all visible silks. Place the cob horizontally on the cutting board and working on each side, shave the kernels off the cob. Rotate cob to get all the kernels off the cob. Stand the cob upright and use the back of the knife to scrape the remaining corn juice off the cob. Place corn in soup pot. Use your hands to snap the cobs into 2 pieces and add to soup pot.
4.       Add green beans and butter beans to soup pot, followed by enough water to cover, usually about 1 cup or more. Cook for 30 minutes. Remove the corn cobs from the soup. Taste the soup for seasoning and adjust. Butter may be added to each serving for additional richness. Store leftovers in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

Text and images copyright 2012, Lucy Mercer.

 For more ways to use up the last of the summer tomatoes, see:

Pasta with Fresh Tomato Sauce

Incredible roasted vegetables (Briami)
Tomato Gravy & Biscuits

Tomato Gravy & Biscuits



Tomato gravy & biscuits by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books



 Before the tomatoes fade for another summer, do yourself a favor and make tomato gravy and biscuits for yourself and your family. This isn't the kind of "gravy" or "sauce" that you serve with pasta, just a creamy white gravy with chopped tomatoes, cooked up in a cast iron skillet and served over split buttermilk biscuits. 

My mother was a fine cook, but I did not grow up with this dish. I discovered it through other cooks and writers. Scott Peacock and Edna Lewis write about it in "Gift of Southern Cooking," and if I remember correctly, serve the gravy with fried chicken.

Cooks can spend a lifetime perfecting their biscuit recipes, and I've tried quite a few, but I always go back to the recipe on the back of the bag of White Lily self-rising flour, using whole fat buttermilk, when I can find it, and brushing the tops of the biscuits with melted butter.

This recipe can be made with bacon fat instead of butter. I usually serve bacon alongside and keep the butter in the gravy. 

Farmers' market heirloom tomatoes by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Tomato Gravy

2 tbsp. butter

1/2 cup onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

salt and freshly ground pepper

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

3 ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped

1 cup milk

1. In a heavy skillet, melt butter and saute onion until softened. Add garlic, salt and pepper and cook for another minute.

2. Sprinkle the flour over and cook, stirring well for another couple minutes.

3. Stir in the chopped tomato and cook for five more minutes. Slowly add the milk and bring to a simmer. Taste for seasoning, adjust. Serve warm with split buttermilk biscuits and a side of bacon.

Text & images copyright 2010, Lucy Mercer.

Food of the (Greek) Gods: Briami

Tomatoes by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

The conventional summertime cooking wisdom is to avoid heating the kitchen, instead creating salads and sandwiches that require little or no actual cooking, such as last week’s Salon Kitchen Challenge for light tomatoes. That approach leads to some fine eating, but every cook knows that the glorious tomatoes of summer sometimes need heat to turn them from nominal to nom nom phenomenal.

Enter briami, Greek roasted vegetables, a concoction of tomatoes, onions, zucchini and potatoes smothered in boo-koos of olive oil, garlic and herbs, then set in the oven to roast to umami-inducing perfection. With zukes and the sometimes addition of eggplant, this dish seems rather ratatouille-like. But that is a vegetable stew, best when the items are cooked separately then combined for a long oven braise. This dish is every bit as satisfying as ratatouille and easier to prepare - everything goes in the oven at the same time, heats up together and fills your abode with the intoxicating aroma of garlic and onion and herbs.

 

On the hottest day of the year, when it's 100+ degrees in the shade of the mimosa and the briami is in the oven, my house smells like heaven - garlic, onion, tomato and basil heaven. The smell is divine, but the best part is (naturally) eating the roasty, toasty tomatoes and vegetables, Parmesan bits and herbs. The tomatoes roast and concentrate and mingle with the oil to create a kind of sauce for the other vegetables.


This dish has many fans and I think it’s because of the combination of potatoes and fresh tomatoes, taken interplanetary with melted cheese and herbs. I use basil, but you could also employ oregano and thyme, and other tomato-friendly herbs from the garden. I'm a fan of lovage, when I can find it, which some describe as having a celery kind of taste.

The recipe is adapted from my friend Evelyn who lives in Athens, Greece, and publishes her recipes at Recipezaar. She uses Greek cheeses like kefalograviera or myzithra, but recommends Parmesan as a substitute.

Briami by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Briami (Greek Roasted Vegetables)

 serves 4 as a side dish, two as a main 

4 medium tomatoes, diced into 1-inch pieces

2 zucchini, peeled and diced into 1-inch pieces

1 medium onion, peeled and diced into 1-inch pieces

3 medium potatoes, peeled and diced into 1-inch pieces

½ head garlic, cloves smashed

2-ounce Parmesan cheese, cut into 1/2 inch chunks

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

¼ cup water

Herbs such as basil, thyme, oregano and lovage, roughly chopped

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 425º. Line an aluminum half-sheet pan with foil and spread out vegetables and chunks of cheese. Combine olive oil and water and herbs and then pour over all. Season with salt and pepper and toss until thoroughly coated. Place in oven and roast for at least an hour, stirring every so often, just to monitor that all is cooking evenly. Your house will smell unbelievably good at this point. If your windows are open, expect neighbors to drop by. Small children will ask what you're cooking and will probably beg a sample. Pets will be driven mad by the aroma of garlic.

The oil soaks up the flavorings and the water steams the vegetables. I served this over bow-tie pasta; couscous would be nice as well. If you must have protein, a white-fleshed fish simply prepared would be delicious, or maybe some leftover cold roast chicken or perhaps sausages on the grill.

Leftovers, should there be any, can be turned into breakfast (or lunch or supper) hash. Just chop the vegetables a bit, cook in some water in skillet (goodness knows, there should be enough oil left over). When it is warmed through, crack an egg or two into the bubbling mixture, cover and let fry until desired doneness. You will need to plow the lower 40 after such a meal, but it will be ever so worth it.

Text and images © 2010, Lucy Mercer.

This recipe is adapted from Evelyn/Athens Recipezaar.

Redneck Ratatouille

(Above: Tomatoes and Basil, Ready for Ratatouille.)

I discovered ratatouille last summer, not in some quaint out-of-the way Provencal restaurant, but in the pages of a half-dozen cookbooks in my own kitchen. It's a recipe somewhat like the alchemy of stock-making, where you need to accumulate enough stuff, in this case, summer's ripest produce, and turn it into gold.

Between the farmer's market and CSA box, I had enough eggplants, peppers, squash, tomatoes (heirloom and cherry), onions, and basil for a big pot of ratatouille. With the recipe from the Gourmet Cookbook as my guide (see last summer's post), salting and draining the eggplant, rather than roasting it, the dish turned out just fine. To cut down on the oil, I cooked the onion and squash in a small amount of water before adding them to the simmering tomato and pepper mixture. (A warning to mommies: it took for-bloody-ever to assemble and prepare all the produce, about two hours, because I was dealing with young children who were not in the proper ratatouille frame of mind.)

What makes mine Redneck Ratatouille is not that I add venison (sorry, a rather lame personal joke), but that I serve it with my version of polenta, using Dixie Mills yellow grits, cooked up with chicken broth and a tablespoon or two of butter. If I had Parmesan on hand, I would have stirred some in, too. The result? C'est magnifique! (even the cranky kids agreed!)

Summer in the CSA Box

All that's missing is a swimsuit and sunscreen! Everything that means summer to me is in this week's CSA box from Farmer's Fresh:

1. Four organic peaches. Someday soon I'll tell the story of my red clay South Carolina childhood and why I get so excited about the first peaches of the summer. (and if I'm lucky enough to find Sunny Slopes, I get all teary.)

2. A pint of blackberries (goodness knows, I have enough of these growing by my driveway, but these are certainly prettier.

3. Two cute eggplant (ratatouille will be on the menu this week!)

4. A fragrant bunch o'basil.

5. An assortment of sweet peppers.

6. Two big and a half dozen small tomatoes.

7. A storage onion and its baby cousin.

I can't wait to cook with all of this incredible produce!

A is for Abundance

(Above& Below) Cantaloupe

(Above) Sweet Corn


(Above) Lettuces

(Above) Abundance of vegetables.

The "A" in CSA stands for Abundance this week. The box was packed full of green beans, corn, lettuce, jalapenos, blueberries, a cantaloupe and herbs. I'm very excited about using the green beans in an oven braise with tomatoes. Here's the recipe, a variation of one found in "All About Braising" by Molly Stevens. Her recipe is cooked entirely stovetop and is finished in about an hour, yielding firm, but tasty beans. I like my beans cooked very soft and in the oven; it's easier to chase kids that way.

Braised Pole Beans with Tomatoes

3 tablespoons olive oil

4 cloves garlic, smashed

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1 pound green beans, preferably Romano, or pole beans

2 or 3 chopped ripe tomatoes, such as Roma, or heirloom tomatoes, if you can get them, or use one 14.5 ounce can whole peeled tomatoes

1/2 cup water, or more for braising

salt and pepper to taste

soy sauce, optional

In a large ovenproof skillet, heat oil over medium heat and saute garlic for a couple minutes. Add the oregano, green beans, tomatoes, water and seasoning. Go easy on the salt. You may want add soy sauce instead of salt. After ingredients come to a boil, put the lid on the pan and place in the oven set at 300 for a couple of hours. Check every 20 minutes or so to make sure the beans are cooking along and that the liquid is high enough - you want at least half the beans submerged in liquid.