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Jalapeño Corn — The Side Dish That Belongs on Every Sunday Dinner Table

Halloween prep. Lucas, five, has decided to be a chef again this year, because he wore the costume on Halloween last year and it was a hit and because he has now seen David's Brooklyn kitchen on a family video call and he wants to be his tío David. Isabella, three, has chosen to be a princess. Specifically, "the princess who lives in the tree house," which is a princess of her own invention, and which is being executed by Jenny with glitter and green fabric and enormous patience.

Mateo at nine months is too young for a costume but Jenny has a pumpkin onesie for him anyway. Because he is Mateo and he is adorable and because Jenny is a good mother who understands that grandmothers need pumpkin onesie photos.

I made calabaza soup this week. The Puerto Rican pumpkin soup. I roasted a small calabaza on Tuesday, blended it with coconut milk, chicken broth, a little ginger, a sprinkle of cumin. I served it Sunday dinner as the first course. Eduardo ate two bowls. Miguel Jr. asked for the recipe. I wrote it down for him on an index card. Another recipe leaking, this one to West Hartford.

Lucas came over Wednesday. We made tostones. Our Wednesday tradition this fall. I have him every Wednesday after kindergarten until Jenny picks him up at 5. We cook. We talk. I let him chop soft things with a child-safe knife — plantain halves, soft cheese. He is confident. He is patient. He is becoming a cook. Miguel Jr. told me last month that Lucas asked him at dinner when he could "get a job in Abuela's kitchen." Miguel Jr. said, "Mijo, you already have a job. You work here every Wednesday." Lucas considered that a valid answer.

Mami had a hard Thursday. She did not want to eat. She asked for Abuela Consuelo. "Where is Consuelo?" I said, "Mami, Abuela is gone. She died in 1991." She said, "Oh." She was quiet for a while. She said, "I miss her." I said, "I know, Mami." She said, "Do you miss her?" I said, "Every day, Mami." She said, "She would have loved your grandchildren." I said, "Mami, the children and I talk about her all the time. She is in the recipes." Mami nodded. She took a sip of coffee. The confusion passed. By dinner she was asking about my sauce canning and whether I had saved a jar for her. I had. Wepa.

The calabaza soup was the star of Sunday dinner, but no bowl of soup survives the table alone — not in this house. I made jalapeño corn alongside it, because the heat cuts through the sweetness of the coconut milk, and because Lucas helped me strip the cobs, and because Eduardo will eat two helpings of anything that has butter and a little fire in it. It is the kind of side dish that asks almost nothing of you and gives back everything. After a week of costumes and index cards and Mami’s hard Thursday, I needed a recipe that just worked.

Jalapeño Corn

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 ears of corn, kernels cut from the cob (or 3 cups frozen corn, thawed)
  • 2 jalapeños, seeded and finely diced
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1/4 cup yellow onion, finely diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 cup sour cream
  • 1/4 cup cotija cheese, crumbled
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • Juice of 1/2 lime
  • 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (optional)

Instructions

  1. Prep the corn. If using fresh ears, stand each cob upright in a wide bowl and slice downward with a sharp knife to release the kernels. If using frozen, drain well and pat dry so the corn sears rather than steams.
  2. Sauté the aromatics. Melt butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion and jalapeño and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to color, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and stir for 30 seconds until fragrant.
  3. Cook the corn. Add the corn kernels to the skillet in an even layer. Let them sit undisturbed for 2 minutes to develop some char, then stir and cook for another 4—5 minutes until the corn is heated through and lightly caramelized in spots. Season with salt and pepper.
  4. Finish with cream and cheese. Remove the skillet from heat. Stir in the sour cream and half the cotija cheese until everything is coated and creamy. Squeeze the lime juice over the top and toss to combine.
  5. Serve. Transfer to a serving bowl or serve straight from the skillet. Top with the remaining cotija and fresh cilantro. Serve immediately alongside soup or as a stand-alone side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 379 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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