The Dinner Files

But not just any sausage and not just any polenta. There was, yet again, sweet corn in our farm box last night. I could barely look at it. So I husked it, cut it off the cob, and stirred the kernels into a pot of polenta. I highly recommend this use for corn you don’t feel like eating but need to consume.

More interesting–to me anyway–was the sausage, pepper, onion combo I whipped up. There were some sort of sad-sack red peppers in the farm box too, so I roasted and peeled them before sauteeing them with some sliced onions and garlic in the fat rendered from cooking some sweet italian sausage and kielbasa from the sausage making party (I guess that’s what you’d have to call it) my friend and neighbor had last winter. We each brought ingredients for a variety of sausage, helped each other stuff them, and then had a great exchange. My totally awesome garlicky Toulouse-style sausage and the lovely spicy chorizo are long gone, but I put some of the other varieties in the freezer. They went very well with the polenta.

I got a little kicky in the kitchen last night. I threw some fresh sweet corn kernels (along with a giant dollop of ricotta and a handful of grated parmesan) into the pot of polenta. Assessment? Yum.

I topped the whole thing with half-moons of zucchini sautéed in olive oil with onion and garlic and a few pine nuts thrown in at the end for good measure. Pretty, easy, and everyone cleaned their plates. A bit of diced tomato on top wouldn’t have been out of place.

I had coffee with a friend yesterday. She, too, is part of the food world–writing away and developing recipes and whatnot. We spent a moment–just a moment, mind you!–bemoaning the fresh, simple, ingredient-driven, Italy/Southern France-inspired cuisine that dominates our fair city of San Francisco. It’s all great, of course, but once in awhile you want someone to dazzle you with something you’ve never seen before, and I don’t mean yet another variety of Mediterranean green. I want something weird. Something not a variety of something else. Something I’ve never dreamed of. Something amazing.

And yet, between the two of us, I don’t think you could find more “simply prepared asparagus and peas” (as she so deftly put it) if you tried.

And after all my yackety-yack, what did I cook? Well, see for yourself:

Yep, those are some late-spring, early-summer vegetables. Simply “braised” in olive oil and water (water! of all things simple!) with some fresh herbs (let’s not get too cliché… oh wait, it’s way too late for that) and served on polenta. What is it? 1985? But you know, it was just right for a Thursday on a sunny day that had turned into a clear-but-windy night in San Francisco. It was also fast. It’s such a crowd-pleaser I already posted the recipe (such as it is) over at local foods.

p.s. The carrot cupcakes were a hit (although they had a bit of that metallic thing chemically-risen baked goods can get–I’ll play with the proportions a bit). Cooking with 16 4- and 5-year olds is insane. They really like to stir. A lot. Next time I’m just bringing bowls of flour and water for them to work on. They also like to stick their fingers in their noses and mouths. A lot. More than once did I say “Calum/Serafina/Shai/Jacob/Vaughn, go wash your hands” and then 30 seconds later look over and say it all over again.