With a little bit of a chill in the air this morning (it’s the first time I’ve seen temperatures in the 40s in a while) the ride to the market on the Greenway was a little lonely and the market seemed a bit quiet compared to previous weeks. Still, we were able to find some colorful produce. As we’ll be heading to Michigan on Wednesday Tom was conscious not to overbuy; my only requirement was that we get something purple. And we did:

Just as we were about to leave, I spotted a bouquet of gorgeous dahlias at the market manager’s table and headed back to get one for our place. It was very difficult to choose from the many cheerful clusters Va Vang’s farm had put together! With my own bouquet peeking from my tiny backpack on the ride home, the ride wasn’t so lonely–many a passerby offered a smile or a thumbs up. The sun is out and it’s going to be a great day.

Le Petit Dej Breakfast Tray by Peter White, $92 at A+R Store

image: A+R Store

My family is not Greek, but one of my favorite dishes my mom made when I was  growing up was moussaka – I’m not sure where or why she got the recipe. The version she made was roughly the Greek one, layered and and served warm (but there are many different versions). I wasn’t striving for authenticity with my own version, just trying to satisfy a craving. It’s a great dish for a lazy day of cooking; roasting the vegetables separately might seem picky and is certainly not traditional, but it gives the dish deep flavor.

Zucchini and Eggplant

Part of the reason for my making this dish was to use up the zucchini and eggplant that were lingering from last week’s trip to the farmers market. I would have preferred to use more eggplant, but I just used what I had: about two pounds of zucchini and one pound of eggplant. I sliced the vegetables about a quarter inch thick on the mandoline, tossed them with about a teaspoon of salt each and set them in separate colanders to exude some moisture. After about an hour, I wrapped the veggies in a thin towel and squeezed even more moisture out. I then tossed the sliced vegetables with olive oil and pepper (already plenty of salt on them) arranged them in a single layer on sheet pans (keep the vegetables separate throughout this process) and roasted them for about 30 minutes at 400ºF, flipping them halfway through, until they were deep brown in spots, almost starting to burn. I spread the zucchini evenly across the bottom of an eight inch square baking dish and set the eggplant aside.

These will form layers one and three of the assembled dish.

Tomato-Lamb Sauce

While the vegetables were roasting I sauteed a diced medium onion in olive oil until it softened, then stirred in a pound of ground lamb, a teaspoon of salt, and a dash each of ground cinnamon, allspice and cumin. I let that cook until the lamb was no longer pink, stirring frequently to break up the chunks of lamb, then added about a fourteen ounce can’s worth of tomato sauce (I actually used tomatoes I canned last year mixed with tomato juice left over from a canning project this morning). I let this reduce until little loose liquid remained, then poured it on top of the zucchini in the baking dish.

This is layer two; arrange the roasted eggplant slices atop the tomato sauce for layer three.

Béchamel

The last layer is simply a béchamel sauce; I sauteed two minced shallots in four tablespoons of butter until the shallots were translucent, then stirred in four tablespoons of flour and cooked it long enough for the roux to acquire some color, stirring all the time. I then slowly whisked in two cups of skim milk and added a teaspoon of salt and a dash of nutmeg. I let it boil a few minutes to thicken, and then poured it over the top of the baking dish to form the fourth and final layer.

I baked at 400ºF for thirty minutes, until the béchamel starts to brown. Allow the pan to cool for 10-15 minutes before cutting it so it can set up. Cut into squares and serve warm.

And sometimes you don’t. An idea for dinner, that is. It sounds odd, coming when the fields of the midwest are at their most bountiful, producing innumerable varieties of colorful, ripe produce. Mother Nature is providing to her fullest.

But Mother Nature threw us a curveball this week, in the form of 90ºF+ day after 90ºF+ day. Consequently, the Magic Chef, usually my ally in turning the weekly farmers market haul into various kinds of delicious, has become my bitter enemy and I avoid turning him on at all costs. Indeed, I absolutely refuse to give the Magic Chef the time of day. But there are still the vegetables sitting in the crisper drawer, begging for some transformation that I feel powerless to effect as Martha and I stew in our air-conditioningless apartment.

While the Magic Chef has betrayed me with his apartment-heating ways, a steadfast friend – one that stands by me in hot and cold – stepped to the fore: my Benrinner Mandoline. Even though I spend a lot of time cooking, I am really not much of a kitchen gadget person – you’ll rarely see me endorsing gear on this blog. That said, everybody should have a mandoline. Its uses are many, not least among them when you’re completely out of ideas for dinner you can pull out all your vegetables and just start slicing. Shredded purple cabbage? Beautiful! Fine julienne of carrots? Not if I don’t get to do radishes too! Green peppers? Well, I don’t really like them raw, but slice them thin enough and who can tell the difference? As my salad bowl began to fill, an idea started to form in my mind.

A purple cabbage, a half onion, a green pepper, several carrots, a couple of radishes and an ear of corn later I decided this was going to be a vaguely Asian salad, so I set about putting together a dressing of garlic, ginger, peanut sauce (in fact left over ají de mani from last week), soy sauce, rice wine vinegar and olive oil. Six tomatoes withering in the heat on the counter made a natural vessel for the salad, just as their pulp was a nice addition to the vegetable roster. To top it off, I happened to have some five-spice pork aspic sitting in the fridge from bánh mì – the kind of thing you save because you should but have no idea what you’re going to do with.

And that’s the great thing about no ideas – sometimes they turn into something else.

Another week, another trip to the farmers market, another six ears of sweet corn. Maybe you’re one of those stolid types that needn’t go beyond the perfection of an ear of fresh corn, boiled and slathered in butter, salt and pepper, but after a few weeks of that routine I’m ready for a change of pace. Now you might suggest I go a week without buying corn, but with a season that lasts only six or so short weeks and a longing that builds up over an entire year, that would just be wrong. But where to find fresh ideas for consuming fresh corn – that was the question.

As a Midwesterner, corn forms a small part of my cultural DNA, but there are other foods that equal or surpass it in significance. For the indigenous people of Mexico, corn played (and continues to play) a much more central role, taking on religious significance. Who better to turn to for corn advice, then? Tamales are one of the more famous corn-based foods of Mexico, but the tamales most of us are familiar with used dried corn. In the state of Michoacán, however, they make uchepos, which are made like tamales but use the husks and kernels of fresh corn. These sweet tamales, complemented by a spicy salsa, are the perfect answer to the midsummer sweet corn doldrums.

Uchepos

Adapted from Diana Kennedy, The Art of Mexican Cooking: Traditional Mexican Cooking for Aficionados (New York: Clarkson Potter, 2008).

• Husks from 5 ears of corn
• Kernels from 5 ears of corn (about 5 cups)
• 2 T sugar
• 2 T unsalted butter, softened
• 2 T sour cream (original recipe calls for natas, creme fraîche or thick cream, but I used what I had)
• 1 t sea salt

The easiest way to prepare the corn for this recipe is to cut through the unhusked corn at its thickest part – just above the base – and then carefully roll off the husks in sheets. This also gives you a nice flat base to stand the corn up as you slice off the kernels.

Line a steamer basket with any husks that are too small to roll uchepos from; set steamer over low heat.

Process half the corn in a food processor until reduced to a pulp. Add the rest of the corn and process until corn forms a loose puree. Add sugar, butter and cream and process to combine. Transfer to medium bowl and stir in salt.

Taking one husk at a time, place a heaping tablespoon of corn mixture near the center.

Fold the sides of the husk together so they overlap and enclose the filling.

Fold the thin, tapered end of this cone up over the uchepo to close the bottom. The top will remain open.

Lay horizontally in lined steamer basket.

Continue doing folding uchepos until a layer covers the bottom of the steamer basket. Place in steamer and cook ten minutes, until just beginning to firm up. Remove steamer basket and fold the remainder of the uchepos, adding them in horizontal layers. When all the uchepos are prepared, place a towel over top of them inside the steamer, then cover the steamer with plastic wrap and place the lid on top. Steam 1 ½ to 1 ¾ hours, until the filling is pretty firm.

Serve uchepos hot with salsa and sour cream.