2008 Woodie Awards
Cooking, kind of
Corn Chowder
Max George
Issue date: 4/4/08 Section: Features
I woke up mid-afternoon to a cold, damp Sunday in late March. I was hung-over and my homework inbox was overflowing. I had slept through lunch, not that my waking condition was conducive to the consumption of food anyway.
After a couple hours of Internet tangency (YouTube + Wikipedia = expanded worldly knowledge & increased possession of random factoids for deployment to impress and persuade in future settings), I decided that if I was going to be awake on this dreary Sunday afternoon, I had better get some work done.
So, I took a nap. Dilemma resolved.
When I woke up around 7 p.m., I began to think about sustenance. Another glance out the window had me considering a very specific set of dinner choices: the rainy day foods. Unmotivated to attempt any overly ambitious dish and still in possession of a very large pot, which I borrowed to cook pasta earlier in the week, I decided on cooking a soup of some kind.
In honor of the Red Sox opening the 2008 season with a win in Tokyo, I proposed we try our hands at New England Clam Chowder. My suggestion was shot down in seconds, as Ana was not excited about the clams, a seemingly essential ingredient. She would, however, love to make corn chowder, she confessed.
Now we're talking the complete opposite region of the country, the southwest. I don't know much about how they do things down there, but I did recently hear Arizona doesn't recognize Daylight Savings Time, which is marginally bodacious of them. And I was hungry. And it was promised to me that corn chowder is easy to make.
I called my dad for his recipe and discovered that, indeed, corn chowder is a pretty simple deal. My mom suggested adding jalapenos to the soup. "Be careful not to touch your eyes after cutting them," she warned. Apparently she forgot I am in college and an Iron Chef. Thanks, Mom. One uncharacteristically painless trip to 'Teeter later and I was standing over the aforementioned large pot, ready to dominate, as per usual.
After a couple hours of Internet tangency (YouTube + Wikipedia = expanded worldly knowledge & increased possession of random factoids for deployment to impress and persuade in future settings), I decided that if I was going to be awake on this dreary Sunday afternoon, I had better get some work done.
So, I took a nap. Dilemma resolved.
When I woke up around 7 p.m., I began to think about sustenance. Another glance out the window had me considering a very specific set of dinner choices: the rainy day foods. Unmotivated to attempt any overly ambitious dish and still in possession of a very large pot, which I borrowed to cook pasta earlier in the week, I decided on cooking a soup of some kind.
In honor of the Red Sox opening the 2008 season with a win in Tokyo, I proposed we try our hands at New England Clam Chowder. My suggestion was shot down in seconds, as Ana was not excited about the clams, a seemingly essential ingredient. She would, however, love to make corn chowder, she confessed.
Now we're talking the complete opposite region of the country, the southwest. I don't know much about how they do things down there, but I did recently hear Arizona doesn't recognize Daylight Savings Time, which is marginally bodacious of them. And I was hungry. And it was promised to me that corn chowder is easy to make.
I called my dad for his recipe and discovered that, indeed, corn chowder is a pretty simple deal. My mom suggested adding jalapenos to the soup. "Be careful not to touch your eyes after cutting them," she warned. Apparently she forgot I am in college and an Iron Chef. Thanks, Mom. One uncharacteristically painless trip to 'Teeter later and I was standing over the aforementioned large pot, ready to dominate, as per usual.
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