I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
Obviously, I’m easily distracted by recipes. When I start looking for inspiration around a general idea of a dish, I end up wanting to try every version of that dish I discover along the way. Sometimes it takes a couple of tries to get it right or to end up with what I thought I wanted in the first place. Most recently, this happened because of corn. Our last two deliveries from our CSA included corn, and since it is officially fall, I started thinking about corn soups and chowders. At first, I got carried off in the direction of a pureed corn and potato soup with roasted peppers and cotija cheese for garnish. It was a perfectly great soup, but as soon as I sat down to a bowl of it, I realized a chunky chowder was what I was really craving. So, when corn appeared in our box again with the next delivery, my recipe search was more focused. What got my attention this time wasn’t really a soup recipe at all but some cute, little cracker-like biscuits. I have a file full of those perforated recipe cards that always appear in Living magazine. In September 2002, the recipe cards included Grilled Striped Bass to be topped with a Corn and Clam Chowder Sauce and served with Oyster Biscuits. Those biscuits are thin, homemade recreations of the type of crackers usually paired with clam chowder. And, the chunky Corn and Clam Chowder Sauce from that recipe card could easily be made into a soup by adding some milk. I knew I was on the right path.
The biscuits come together easily, and you can make them in a food processor or by hand. Since it’s such a small amount of dough, I made it by hand and skipped having to wash the parts of the food processor. Flour, salt, baking powder, ground cumin, and ground coriander were combined in a bowl. I worked in two tablespoons of butter by hand until the mixture was crumbly. A half-cup of milk was added and stirred to form the dough. The dough was kneaded briefly on a floured surface and then rolled to a quarter-inch thickness. One and a half-inch biscuits were cut and placed on a baking sheet. I brushed the biscuit tops with water and sprinkled with salt and pepper before baking at 350 degrees F for about 20 minutes. As the biscuits cooled, I started on the chowder. First, the clams were steamed in white wine to which I added a big pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. When the clams opened, they were removed to a plate, the wine was strained into a cup and set aside, and the pan was rinsed and placed back on the stove. Next, butter was melted in the pan, and shallots and celery were cooked for a few minutes before chunks of potatoes were added with a bay leaf. The reserved wine was added along with a half-cup of water since I needed a little more liquid to form a soup rather than a sauce. I left the potatoes to cook for about ten minutes. Then, two cups of corn kernels were added along with one and a half cups of milk and one cup of cream. The soup was left to simmer until the corn was tender. The clams were returned to the pot to warm through before serving.
This time I got it right. The chunky potatoes and sweet kernels of corn with the clams were what I wanted all along. And, the little, barely puffed, cracker-like biscuits were perfect on the side. I guess I don’t mind meandering around various recipes as long as a craving is eventually satisfied.
I’m not sure that this is a chowder. It might be a mix of Manhattan chowder, bouillabaisse, cioppino, and maybe chili if that’s even possible. But, that’s not what’s important here. This was one of those recipes that had me doing a happy dance in the kitchen as I tasted while I cooked. It's from the March 2011 issue of Food and Wine. A soup base was built from torn pieces of ancho chiles, onion, garlic, and fennel seeds that simmered in white wine before crushed tomatoes were added. Long before any seafood made its way into the soup, it already tasted like it was intended to be there. The flavor from the fennel seeds was like a splash of Pernod in bouillabaisse. The soup base was pureed and then potatoes, red onion, chopped fennel bulb, and corn formed the building blocks of the chowder before shrimp, halibut, and clams were added. The aroma from the stove was already fantastic from the earthy chiles, aromatics, and fennel, and then some smoked paprika made it even better. There was a lot going on in this soup, but all of those flavors were mingling very harmoniously. I was pretty sure I had a winner of a meal on my hands, and soon enough, that suspicion was confirmed. I should explain that Kurt doesn’t always freely offer his opinion of meals. Usually, I have to ask, and usually, his answer is that “it’s good” or “it’s fine.” Clearly, I have a more emotional attachment to food to say the least. This time, with no prompting whatsoever, he proclaimed his delight, saying something like “now this is great flavor,” and coming from him, that’s extremely high praise.
There are multiple steps to making this so-called chowder, but there’s a perfect stopping place if you’d like to start prepping in advance. You begin by cooking chopped yellow onion, some smashed cloves of garlic, torn pieces of ancho chiles, and fennel seeds in oil in a large pot. When the onion is browned, some white wine is added and simmered until reduced by half. Canned crushed tomatoes and water are then added, the mix is brought to a boil, and it is simmered again until the vegetables are very tender. You should allow the mixture to cool slightly, and meanwhile, whole milk is added for a touch of richness. This soup base is then pureed in batches, and after pureeing, you could stop here and store the soup in the refrigerator until you’re ready to continue. Next, clams are steamed in water and then removed from their shells and chopped when cool enough to handle. The clam cooking broth is then strained, added to the pureed soup base, and that is set aside. Chopped potatoes are cooked in oil until browned, and then minced red onion, finely diced celery and fennel bulb, and thawed, frozen corn kernels are added followed by smoked paprika. After the cooking the vegetables briefly, the soup base is returned to the pot and brought to a boil. Last, shrimp, chunks of halibut, and the chopped clams are added to the soup and simmered just a few more minutes.
It’s a little unusual to find a hearty soup with big, earthy flavors and lots of spice that includes seafood, and it’s just as unlikely to see Southwestern flavors mixed with fennel seed and chopped fennel bulb. Somehow, it all worked together beautifully. The potatoes made it hearty and substantial, the anchos delivered some subtle spice, and the seafood was fresh and light among everything else. This is one for the permanent file.
My sourdough starter just turned one year old. I’m proud of everything it did in that first year, but I think it can do a lot more. Out of fear, I stuck pretty closely to the Breads from the La Brea Bakery book all year since that’s where it all started. I followed the instructions in that book for making the starter, and I’ve only used that book for baking bread. It hasn’t failed me yet. I’ve made the bagels several times, and just this morning I was branching out by adjusting that recipe to include some whole grains. But, now that a whole year has gone by, I’m ready to start attempting some other sourdough breads. When I saw these sourdough corn bread bowls at Wild Yeast, they went to the top of my list. I loved the idea of cornmeal and corn flour used with sourdough, and a bread bowl for a winter soup was perfect. I followed Susan’s instructions carefully, and everything went fine. I think it’s going to be fun to keep trying new and different sourdough recipes. For the soup, I had a hearty vegetable chowder in mind, and I found just the thing I wanted in Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.
The sourdough corn bread was a breeze to mix. I combined bread flour, corn flour, coarse corn meal, water, salt, a little butter, and sourdough starter in the bowl of a mixer and let the dough hook do the work. The dough was transferred to an oiled bowl where it fermented for two and a half hours. It was then divided into six pieces which were left to rest for 30 minutes. Then each of those pieces was placed in a soup bowl, covered, and refrigerated until I was ready to bake. I let the dough come to room temperature while the oven pre-heated. Just before sliding the little loaves into the oven, they were slashed around the tops. The oven was spritzed, and I placed the loaves directly on a baking stone. The circular slash on each loaf made a good cut line for removing the tops and turning them into soup bowls.
The soup was even easier to prepare. First, parsley, thyme, bay leaves, sliced onion, peppercorns, and juniper berries were steeped in milk that was brought to a boil. That was covered and set aside while chopped leeks, carrots, turnips, rutabaga, celery, and potatoes were cooked in melted butter. After about 10 minutes, flour was stirred into the cooked vegetables, and then water was added. That was left to simmer for 25 minutes. Last, the milk was poured through a strainer into the soup, and seasoning was checked and adjusted.
A simple meal of bread and soup with some great cheese and olives seemed like a feast. The cornmeal and corn flour brought a little sweetness to the bread, and the crunchy crust gave way to a chewy, tasty, light yellow interior. The soup was a showcase of fresh, local, winter vegetables that was thickened just enough from the flour, starch from the potatoes, and the milk. As the soup disappeared in the bowl, it was easy to drag your spoon across the inner surface and bring bits of bread through the remaining chowder. Even better than that was pulling the bowl apart and eating the whole thing.
I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.