Devour this

Why Corn was Born

I recently attended four bikram yoga classes in one week.  On the fourth day, I decided to treat myself.  After one and a half grueling, slippery hours, I headed to Shake Shack in Madison Square Park.  Having heard about the place for years, I mustered up the patience I'd just gleaned from my bendy practice and joined the massive Thursday evening line.  (Note: I apologize for the pictures -- camera phone.)

I wasn't kidding.  That line was crazy.  But people seemed plenty content to sip from plastic cups of beer and wine and socialize amongst themselves.  Me, I had focus.  I was there for one reason and one reason only.  Sweet corn frozen custard.  A dear friend shared this bit of information with me while we danced away at Farm Aid a couple of weeks ago.  I didn't forget her words.  "Thursday evening.  Sweet corn frozen custard."

After ordering (I also threw in a Shackburger for the heck of it), I took my clunky buzzer and loitered around the pick-up windows. I saw this guy dumping a plastic tub of gloopy cheese into a big metal vat.  The whole operation wasn't as glamorous as what I'd been expecting from Danny Meyer.

Then again, what do I know?  The employees seemed to know what they were doing in there and  it's pretty decent of Meyer to allow you to peer through the huge windows right into the heart of the action. What came out was quite stellar. I was expecting to see kernels of icy corn in my custard, but the texture was uniformly creamy with a hint of graininess.  There was no denying the unmistakable earthy, summery sweet corn flavor.  'Not sure how much longer this flavor will be around, but if I were you, I'd get there this Thursday just to be safe.

Camp Food

I don't know many better tasting items than potatoes cooked in a cast iron pan over a campfire's open flame.  All the burned bits that stick to the bottom until you scrape them up with the edge of your metal spatula and flip them onto a plate of buttery eggs and flame-grilled baguette toast...

I know what you're thinking.  Those are mighty big portions for breakfast.  Hey, we're camping.  We're walking 2.5 miles into the woods looking for a hidden lake that ended up looking like this:

We needed those calories.

Mid-day snack: veggie bologna fried in the same heavy pan (no carcinogen worries here!), over a later day fire, topped with luscious late summer tomatoes between slices of crusty whole grain toast.  Don't mind the black corners.  We didn't.

Gilbert Lake State Park treated us well.  And we treated ourselves to good camp food. Sadly, I didn't take pictures of our pièce de résistance -- cedar-plank grilled wild salmon with a honey dijon glaze, marscarpone and chive mashed potatoes (OK, I made those at home and just warmed them over the fire; it still counts!) from a fantastic recipe in a fantastic book, grilled asparagus spears, and flame roasted corn on the cob.  I vote to eat by lantern over candlelight any night of the week.

We gave our pup Mia some leftovers (not frequently done).  Now tell me this dog isn't one happy camper.