Slow-Cooker Creamed Corn

Year four begins and the first thing I do is something I've never done: I accept the sponsorship. The BBQ supply company — SmokeHaus, based in Tempe — sends me a box of rubs, sauces, and smoking pellets in exchange for posting about their products on social media. The payment is zero dollars. The product is good — I tested their mesquite rub last weekend and it's solid, not as good as mine but close, and the pellets are high-quality. Jessica helped me set up an Instagram page: @ChefRiveraAZ. She said, "You need a social media presence if you're serious about this." I said I'm not serious about anything except feeding people. She said, "That's the brand, Marcus."

The brand. I'm a firefighter with a brand. Roberto would find this hilarious. He finds everything about the internet hilarious. Elena showed him Instagram last month and he said, "People take pictures of their food? I've been doing that for forty years. It's called 'looking at it.'"

My first post: a photo of my competition brisket from the Winter Smoke Classic, sliced, with the smoke ring visible and the bark catching the light. Caption: "Fourteen hours. Two woods. One fire. This is what patience looks like. #BBQ #PhoenixBBQ #SmokeHaus" Jessica wrote the caption. I would have written: "Brisket. Good." She's right that her version is better.

At the station, spring means the wildfire watch begins. Arizona hasn't had significant rain since October — the desert floor is dry, the grass is dead, and one spark in the wrong place sends the whole thing up. We're running brush fire drills and reviewing mutual aid protocols with the forest service. The Woodbury Fire last summer is still fresh in everyone's memory. Fire doesn't forget, and neither should we.

Diego is twenty months old and has entered what Jessica calls "the why not" phase. As in: "Diego, don't climb the bookshelf." "Why not?" "Diego, don't eat the crayon." "Why not?" "Diego, don't put your head in the toilet." "Why not?" He's fearless and curious and completely indifferent to consequences. He's Roberto at sixty compressed into a toddler body — the same stubbornness, the same refusal to be told what to do, the same appetite for everything the world has to offer. My mother says she sees the resemblance. My father says, "I was never that bad." Elena says, "You were worse."

Made street-style elote this week — grilled corn on the cob, charred over mesquite, slathered with crema, dusted with cotija and chile powder, squeezed with lime. The simplest thing I make and maybe the most perfect. Sofia ate two ears. Diego ate the cob and left the corn, because Diego does things his own way.

Look, I can’t always be standing over a mesquite fire squeezing lime on corn while Diego attempts to eat the cob whole — sometimes the slow cooker has to do the work. After a week of wildfire drills, sponsor unboxing, and explaining to a twenty-month-old why the toilet is not a hat, I wanted corn on the table with zero drama. This creamed corn is what happens when elote love meets a Tuesday night where everyone’s already tired but still hungry.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 3 hrs | Total Time: 3 hrs 10 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

6 cups frozen or fresh corn kernels (about 6 ears if cutting fresh)
1 package (8 oz) cream cheese, cubed
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, sliced
1/3 cup whole milk
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Optional garnish: chile powder, cotija cheese, fresh lime juice

Instructions

Load the slow cooker. Add the corn kernels, cubed cream cheese, sliced butter, milk, sugar, salt, pepper, and garlic powder to a 4-quart or larger slow cooker. Stir to roughly combine — the cream cheese doesn’t need to be fully mixed yet.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, stirring once halfway through. The cream cheese and butter will melt and blend into a thick, creamy sauce around the corn.
Stir and adjust. When the time is up, stir everything together until smooth and creamy. Taste and adjust salt or sugar as needed. If you want it a little thinner, splash in another tablespoon or two of milk.
Serve and garnish. Spoon into a serving bowl. For an elote-style finish, dust lightly with chile powder, crumble cotija on top, and squeeze a wedge of lime over the whole thing. Not required — but highly recommended by the Rivera household.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Creamed Corn — The Corn That Does Things Its Own Way