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Blueberry, Corn and Avocado Chopped Salad — The Corn That Carries the Season

New Year 2040, and the decade turns. I'm not usually given to decade-marking but this one feels different — the 2030s contained so much that the 2040s already feel like a different country. Danny died in 2032. I bought the adjacent twenty acres in 2033. The house was built in 2035. River took his first deer alone in 2035. Tommy was born in 2035. The practical guide was published in 2039. The decade between fifty and sixty is supposed to be when things slow down. I'm not sure mine got that message.

River came home for winter break and we spent four days cooking together, the way we do, working through the root cellar and the freezer, making the kind of meals that only happen in January when you have time and cold outside and everything you need inside. He talked about OSU with the steady enthusiasm of someone who is exactly where they should be. His soil science professor — the one who'd asked about the curriculum — had become a mentor. He's doing a research project with her in the spring about Indigenous land management practices and soil health. He said the project was his and Lucia's idea jointly and the professor had said yes immediately.

We made a traditional hominy stew on New Year's Day — slow and rich, with venison and dried beans and the last of the dried summer corn — and ate it with Tommy on Kai's knee across the table. Tommy put a piece of venison in his mouth, chewed, and said "this is the same as the other one" with a critical air. I asked which other one. He said "the soup I made." Kai said he'd added salt. Tommy seemed satisfied that this explained the resemblance.

Corn is the thread that runs through all of it — the dried summer corn in the New Year’s hominy stew, the soil science River is studying at OSU, the way Tommy pronounced the venison familiar because he once added salt to something similar. When the root cellar and the slow cooking finally give way to something lighter, this salad is what I reach for: blueberries and corn and avocado, each one carrying a different kind of sweetness, all of them together feeling like a bridge between the heavy warmth of January cooking and the season that will eventually return.

Blueberry, Corn and Avocado Chopped Salad

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 cups fresh or thawed frozen corn kernels (about 3 ears if fresh)
  • 1 cup fresh blueberries
  • 2 medium avocados, pitted, peeled, and diced
  • 1/2 small red onion, finely diced
  • 1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
  • 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
  • 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
  • 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon honey or maple syrup
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

  1. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, olive oil, honey, salt, and black pepper until well combined. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
  2. Combine the base. In a large bowl, combine the corn kernels, blueberries, diced red onion, and jalapeño if using. Toss gently to distribute evenly.
  3. Add the avocado. Add the diced avocado to the bowl. Drizzle the dressing over the salad and fold gently so the avocado holds its shape and doesn’t turn to mash.
  4. Finish and serve. Scatter the chopped cilantro over the top. Taste one more time for salt and lime, adjust as needed, and serve immediately while the avocado is fresh and bright.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 265 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 210mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 401 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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