Garden-Fresh Corn Salad

The Fourth of July is Thursday and the neighborhood is already rehearsing — fireworks going off every night, the kind of amateur pyrotechnics that make the dog next door hysterical and make me grateful that we do not have a dog. I am not much for the Fourth. I am an Irving Rosen Democrat, which means I love this country the way Irving loved it: critically, carefully, with the full awareness that America promised his parents a new life and mostly delivered, and that the promise is imperfect, and that loving an imperfect country is no different from loving an imperfect person, which is to say it's the only kind of loving there is.

I made corn on the cob — local corn, the first of the season, boiled for exactly four minutes and served with butter and salt and nothing else, because corn does not need improvement, corn needs to be left alone to be what it is, which is one of the few genuinely perfect foods. I made coleslaw, too — my version, which is sharper than most, with apple cider vinegar and a little mustard seed, the way my father's mother made it. Marvin ate two ears of corn and butter ran down his chin and he smiled and I wiped his chin and thought: this man. This ridiculous, wonderful, disappearing man.

Ethan and Sophie came to stay for three days while David and Jennifer take a brief trip — their first time away since Noah was born. Noah went to Jennifer's mother in Connecticut. Having Ethan and Sophie in the house is like hosting a very small, very opinionated theater troupe. They have routines and demands and bedtime negotiations that would challenge a labor arbitrator. I love every minute. Ethan "helped" me make the coleslaw by shredding cabbage with the enthusiasm of a person who has just discovered the mechanical advantage of a box grater. Sophie supervised from her chair, eating crackers and issuing commentary. This is the chain in practice: children in the kitchen, learning without knowing they're learning.

After that afternoon of watching butter run down Marvin’s chin and listening to Ethan attack a cabbage with the single-minded focus of a small person who has just discovered physics, I found myself wanting one more way to honor the corn — something that kept it front and center but gave it a little company, the way a good summer gathering should. This Garden-Fresh Corn Salad does exactly that: it lets the corn be the star while the other vegetables play a cheerful supporting role, and it is the kind of thing you can make with a child “helping” and still have it come out beautifully.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 ears fresh corn, husked
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
1/2 cup cucumber, seeded and diced
1/3 cup fresh basil leaves, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Cook the corn. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the husked ears of corn and cook for 4–5 minutes, just until tender. Transfer to a cutting board and let cool for 10 minutes.
Cut the kernels. Stand each ear upright on the cutting board and slice the kernels off the cob with a sharp knife, cutting downward in strips. Transfer kernels to a large mixing bowl.
Add the vegetables. Add the halved cherry tomatoes, diced red onion, cucumber, and sliced basil to the bowl with the corn.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, apple cider vinegar, honey, salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using until well combined.
Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the corn and vegetable mixture and toss gently to coat everything evenly.
Rest and serve. Let the salad sit for at least 5 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to come together. Serve at room temperature or lightly chilled. Salad keeps well covered in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Garden-Fresh Corn Salad — The Corn Needs No Improvement, But the Salad Doesn’t Hurt