I fell in love with Connecticut maple syrup at my cousin’s house in Litchfield. As I walked through the conifers and sugar maples peppering their acreage near the Berkshires, a few maple taps caught my eye.
Their neighbors at Brookside Farm had tapped a few of their trees to make maple syrup. After I sampled their maple syrup, the Log Cabin maple syrup on the grocery store shelves became an afterthought.
My husband loves anything truffle. Truffle butter, truffle salt, truffle eggs, and my truffle potato salad. He also doesn’t discriminate with his truffles. He loves all truffles equally, even gleefully claiming that he would bath in anything truffle. Two of our favorite people, Marina and Dave, used to live on the same block as Urbani Truffles in New York City. When we visited one December, during white truffle season, we made the oh-so-easy pilgrimage to Urbani. We opened the doors and were immersed in truffle. Everything smelled of truffle. I think my husband’s glasses fogged over with truffle shavings. It was his food heaven.
This creamed corn is a perfect side dish for a picnic or backyard cookout or BBQ. I struggle to find side dishes for BBQ chicken or pulled pork, aside from the traditional baked beans and coleslaw. Why not try creamed corn? Or why not serve the creamed corn alongside grilled head on shrimp? The flavors are reminiscent of shrimp and grits without the tedious “tending to the grits”. When you find the perfect square of grass to spread your picnic blanket on, I hope this creamed corn is in your picnic basket.
For my grandmother’s 102nd birthday, we did a steakhouse themed birthday dinner. (Anyone who makes it to 102 deserves a steakhouse dinner.) But, the creamed spinach was just eh. I resigned myself to enjoy creamed spinach when at a restaurant. Until, I received a LOT of beautiful spinach in my weekly CSA box.
Buy fresh turkey from grocery store (with three children in tow). Buy fresh chestnuts. Roast fresh chestnuts. Peel fresh chestnuts (with three children running around the kitchen with assorted rackets and balls). Make chestnut stuffing (while hoping children have found cartoons on TV to watch). Make cranberry dressing. Clean house for guests. Set table with china. Serve Thanksgiving lunch. Put up all food and clean all china (hoping everyone is in a tryptophan induced nap instead of having a shaving cream war in the bathroom). I really don’t know how my mom managed to host Thanksgiving…but she did for years without much complaint.
Over the years, I’ve made several versions of potato salad…warm, cold, and with different flavored mayonnaises and even homemade mayonnaise. None of these have rivaled the Italian potato salad of my childhood…until I found myself in a vacation rental in Rehoboth beach with my inlaws and this recipe was born.
