taste of texas

I was fortunate enough this August to get shipped off to Houston, Texas for a location shoot; though only scheduled to be down there for a day or so, I managed to convince The Powers That Be to let me squeeze in a few vacation days, so I could head out to Austin and catch up with some of my favorite people in the whole wide world. While I was there, we paid a visit to the Austin farmer's market, a scene of sights, smells, and sounds unparalleled in my experience. once I got past the terrifying gypsy fiddling of a 9-year-old girl (for atmosphere, one would assume), the experience took my breath away.

Though I am no stranger to farmer's markets, I was unprepared for the sights--thousands of peppers, piled lushly and exuding that nearly radioactive glow that only chilis have; baskets upon baskets of fresh hazelnuts; bundles of garlic and fresh tomatoes that practically screamed to be eaten. Most remarkable to my eye, however, was the color that permeated the scene: everywhere I looked, the market was suffused with a brilliant shade of red that i rather suspect can only exist under a Texas sky. It was practically in the air; you could almost taste it.

photos don't do it justice, but I had to try.

hitting summer's snooze button

One last plate piled with tomatoes, a few more leaves from our balcony basil plant...Before it turns to October, to baked squash and roasted cauliflower—nothing against roasted cauliflower, seriously, I love the stuff—one more night of tomatoes. They were luscious with a few slices of fresh mozzarella, coarse ground pepper, good olive oil, and a splash of balsamic.

I also served up the last of this summer's sweet corn chowder. You could still make this—there's still corn at the farmer's market. Or file for next August. I adapted the recipe from Leite's Culinaria for a dinner party and froze the leftovers.


I used turkey bacon because some of our guests don't eat pork, but I'm sure bacon or guincale would be fabulous. I didn't have enough chicken stock to double the recipe, so I also made a quick corncob stock by boiling the cobs in water for about ten minutes. I used local Ronnybrook 2% milk, though cream would be good. Finally—and this is important—I did not cook the corn kernels with the potatoes. Good sweet corn needs almost no cooking. I added half the raw kernels to the potato mixture, letting them sit a minute with the burner off before whizzing them up with my immersion blender, then added the rest of the corn. The soup is quite sweet, and delicious with a salad of bitter lettuces if you've had enough of tomatoes by this point. I don't blame you. But just think how you'll feel in December...