My friends Molly and Phil have a faux-Thanksgiving every year at their home in Houston. About a dozen of us gather for this potluck affair the weekend before that wonderful Thursday, and each of us brings a dish or two, perhaps more than that, depending on how inspired we feel. I’ve never hosted on Thanksgiving day, so it’s nice to feel like I can take part in the best meal of the year—even if it comes a few days early.

What I love about Thanksgiving is that even if the guest list changes and the potluck dishes are a little different, a variation on the same flavors always comes out: the salty taste of stock and celery in stuffing; the rich taste of gravy over turkey and smooth creamy potatoes; the tart, sweet bites of cranberry chutney coupled with some version of roasted, creamed or spiced vegetable.

Since the bird gets done on Molly’s end, us guests have the opportunity to focus on the side dishes that make the table so colorful. I make the same thing every year: cranberry chutney, jalapeño cornbread and creamed spinach. I love how a smear of tangy chutney can cut the richness of the meal, perking it up a bit, too. I love the taste of cheddar cheese baked into bread, and I think I’ll keep these spicy cornbread muffins even when we move away from Texas. Finally, creamed spinach is my ultimate favorite. I would eat that for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I could. The taste of caramelized onions deep inside and the slight hint of nutmeg in cream sauce make this dish totally unforgettable.

The chutney recipe comes from a family tradition, passed down from my Grandmother’s kitchen. She found it in one of those Pillsbury advertisements, an entire little booklet of recipes dedicated to promoting the brand. The little palimpsest is nearly 50 years old, covered with splashes and encrusted crumbs spanning the decades. (Watch me make this for Christmas, too…) The cornbread was a more recent discovery for me, and I’ve made several batches since coming to Houston. I love the combination of sweet, crispy corn meal with sharp cheddar and a little bit of jalapeño kick. The recipe I used this year (from my last ever Gourmet) calls for real corn kernels, which lent a welcome texture to the golden bread.

And finally, my favorite, creamed spinach. This recipe comes from none other than the goddess of easy, elegant recipes, Ina Garten. I’m sure there are some foodies out there who assume that because her recipes are so straightforward, they’re not heavy on the culinary clout. Well I’m here to tell you that this is absolute malarkey, and that anybody who doesn’t have her books is missing out. I’ve never had a bum recipe from the Barefoot Contessa—which is more than I can say about virtually any other source out there. This creamed spinach recipe—actually a spinach gratin—comes from her book Parties, and is a no-fail crowd pleaser.

So that, friends, would be my contribution if you invited me over for a communally cooked Thanksgiving meal. I love the stuffing, the potatoes, the turkey and all that, but this trio of dishes is my idea of sides at their most complimentary. All told, whipping these up can be done in less than 2 hours, leaving you plenty of time to bake a pie… or roast a turkey… or, depending on your responsibilities, take a pre-dinner nap.

Cranberry Chutney

½ c apricot preserves
½ c firmly packed brown sugar
¼ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp ginger
¼ tsp cloves
12 oz bag of fresh cranberries (thawed if frozen)
2 medium pears, peeled and cubed
1 medium apple, peeled and cubed
½ c raisins
½ c coarsely chopped, toasted walnuts

Combine the preserves, sugar and spices in a medium saucepan.

Bring mixture to a boil and cook until sugar dissolves, stirring occasionally.

Add cranberries, pear, apple and raisins and cook over medium hear for 25 minutes, or until mixture is thick and cranberries have all popped. (Stir occasionally.)

Take chutney off the heat and stir in walnuts. Cool slightly and store in glass jars, up to 3 weeks.

Cheddar and Jalapeño Corn Muffins

Nonstick cooking spray
5 T unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 c cornmeal—preferably stone ground
1 t salt
1 t baking powder
½ t baking soda
¾ c corn (thawed if frozen)
1 ¼ c well-shaken buttermilk
1 large egg
1 ¾ c grated, sharp Cheddar, plus ¼ c for garnish
1 jalapeño, finely chopped, with seeds

Preheat oven to 425 degrees, with rack in the middle. Coat muffin cups with spray.

Whisk together cornmeal, salt, baking powder and baking soda in a large bowl.

Whisk together corn, jalapeño, buttermilk, egg and melted butter in another bowl, then stir into flour mixture until just combined. Add 1 ¾ c cheese.

Divide batter among muffin cups and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake until puffed and golden, about 20 minutes.

Creamed Spinach (or Spinach Gratin)

4 T unsalted butter
4 c chopped, yellow onion (2 large)
¼ c flour
¼ t grated nutmeg
1 c heavy cream
2 c whole milk
3 lb frozen spinach, defrosted and chopped (5 10oz bags)
1 c freshly grated Parmesan cheese (for simple creamed spinach, only ½ c is needed)
1 T kosher salt
½ t freshly ground black pepper
½ c grated Gruyere cheese (for gratin only)

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
(Only if making gratin—you will not need the stove for creamed spinach.)

Melt butter in a heavy bottomed sauté pan over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent, about 15 minutes.

Add the flour and nutmeg and stir constantly for another 2 minutes.

Add cream and milk and cook until thickened, about 10 minutes.

Extract as much liquid as possible from the spinach (I do this by cutting a hole in the side of the package and squeezing it over the sink) and add spinach to the sauce.

Add ½ c of the Parmesan cheese and mix well, seasoning with salt and pepper.

To make gratin: Transfer spinach to a baking dish and sprinkle the remaining ½ cup Parmesan and the Gruyere on top. Bake for 20 minutes until hot and bubbly.

In summers past, it has come with a pinch of sea salt, some parsley, butter and lemon zest. Or grilled with some spiced butter. This summer, I can’t stop making spicy corn salad, which has an incredible balance in its consistency and flavors. It’s wonderful how silky avocado seems beside kernels and cherry tomatoes. If you mix it up thoroughly, the avocado acts like a dressing, which is different from how this recipe is intended, but not at all inferior. In my case, the discovery was a happy accident, and one well worth repeating—although the end result is not as pretty as when the avocado is managed with a gentler touch.

I was first inspired to create this after eating a tomato ‘ceviche,’ at Backstreet Cafe in Houston. The name seemed odd, given how often tomatoes are served raw, but the dish was spot-on: spicy, crunchy, smooth, salty and slightly sweet. I’m always so happy to find recipes that highlight the best of summer while requiring minimal effort—maybe I should call this one corn ceviche and be bold enough to serve the kernels raw.

Spicy Corn Salad

Serves 4

4 ears of fresh corn, kernels sliced from the cob
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
½ cup cilantro, chopped
1 jalepeno, diced
2 green onions, chopped
1 small avocado
1 T olive oil
juice of 2 limes, divided
salt and pepper

Sauté corn in olive oil until just softened, about 2 minutes.
In a large bowl, toss corn, tomatoes, cilantro and green onions and a bit of lime juice (this can be done ahead).
Just before serving, slice avocado into 1” pieces and gently toss into salad, adding remaining lime juice to prevent browning.
Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Grill corn, turning often until browned on all sides, about 6 minutes.

In the meantime, melt butter (about 1 tbsp for every 2 ears). Add a pinch of spice, to suit your taste.*

Pour warm butter over corn and serve immediately.

[You could also cut the kernels into a large serving bowl, pour butter over them, and serve with a spoon.]

*For example, you might try toasting:

1 tbsp each coriander, fennel and cumin seeds coriander seeds
½ tsp each cardamom seeds and whole cloves
2-4 dried red chilies (like cayenne)

blending them, then adding

1tbsp ground tumeric
and some ground cinnamon.

Use about 1 tsp of spice mix for each tablespoon of butter.

Though it factors prominently into Michael Pollan' s account of “The Omnivore' s Dilemma,”corn is fast becoming one of my absolute favorite summertime staples—that is, when I avoid it as a super-manipulated, non-perishable additive to my cottage cheese or crackers. I' m reading Pollan' s exquisitely wrought (and terrifying) account of America' s love affair with corn, and it' s scaring me to realize how insidiously the stuff is sneaked into us via the unlikeliest of comestibles.

So it seems strange today to extol the virtues of corn, but really, I think it deserves a break. At least all of us maize-eaters who want to just enjoy the taste of it in its purest form—straight from the kernel and into our meals. Other than gnawing it raw from the cob (which oh do I love!) sweet, in-season corn is well accompanied by some butter, some herbs, some salt and a dash of lemon.

I stumbled into this process last summer, after my dear friend Emily, a most graceful cook, gifted me her only copy of her favorite book: “Vegetable Harvest”by Patricia Wells. Can you imagine that? Her only copy! Naturally I felt compelled to put it to good use, which was all too easy, especially for such a ravenous vegetable-lover. This book embodies the best of French cooking: the thrill of simple, fresh ingredients treated with dignity and respect—and not too many accompaniments.

Even though we all know great food is best approached simply, it can still be nice to refer to an expert from time to time. Ms. Wells does not disappoint. Her recipes are worth investigating, basic though they may seem. She uses herbs flawlessly and suggests pairings so clean and sweet on the tongue, you wonder how you didn' t think of them yourself. Read: lemon zest with corn. Really, it is a golden combination.

This is a great salad for parties, because it can LITERALLY be thrown together (with some heat) at the very last minute. Once you' ve done your mise en place, it takes less than five minutes to prepare. I' ve also made it a bit in advance and kept it warm in the oven before serving. Cold corn salad leftovers are spectacular, and un-adorned kernels are well suited for pancakes. Few things embody summer so perfectly as a sweet ear of corn. I wish they would stay this way forever, naked and honest… so unlike the cobs that get hydrogenated or turned into some mysterious ingredient ending in ‘-ose.’

Fresh Corn Salad

(adapted from P.Wells)

Serves 4.

4 ears of fresh corn

3 tbsp local, unsalted butter

1 bunch parsley (or cilantro)

1 large organic lemon

1 tbsp sea salt

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Slice corn kernels into a large bowl.

Finely chop herbs and set aside.

Zest 2 tbsp worth of lemon rind and add to sea salt. Set aside.

Melt butter into large sauce pan on medium heat. When corn is warm and butter has been melted and spread throughout, sprinkle with salt, stirring to mix thoroughly. Transfer to serving plate and stir in herbs. Serve immediately.

Buckets of rain / Buckets of tears / Got all them buckets comin’ out of my ears. / Buckets of moonbeams in my hand, / I got all the love, honey baby, / You can stand.

I been meek / And hard like an oak / I seen pretty people disappear like smoke. / Friends will arrive, friends will disappear, / If you want me, honey baby, / I’ll be here.

Like your smile / And your fingertips / Like the way that you move your lips. / I like the cool way you look at me, / Everything about you is bringing me / Misery.

Little red wagon / Little red bike / I ain’t no monkey but I know what I like. / I like the way you love me strong and slow, / I’m takin’ you with me, honey baby, / When I go.

Life is sad / Life is a bust / All ya can do is do what you must. / You do what you must do and ya do it well, / I’ll do it for you, honey baby, / Can’t you tell?

There are few things better than cooking for a party that ends with a booming display of fireworks and the requisite swelling of pride and patriotism. That said, making use of leftovers in the following day is equally pleasing in its own humble way. I guess it works best when the house is full of people you love: a visiting fiancé who has to leave that very afternoon, a sister who took the train in from New York instead of going to some schmancy party on Long Island, a mom and pop with summer time to spare, and a dear old family friend named Olga, who eats anything, as long as it' s not green.

We spent a sunny afternoon in preparation for the 4th of July party, chopping, mixing, marinating and the like. At around 3 pm, Christopher and I took brown paper bags out to the dock and shucked upwards of twenty ears for a corn salad, doing our best to keep the shaking dog and her lake-water-dewiness at bay. Next, we hauled our gilded logs and their empty husks to the picnic bench on the porch and sheared the kernels into bowls, though they were worthy of a much larger vessel. (Got all them buckets comin' out of my ears / buckets of corn kernels in my hands.)

There was truly an abundance of corn: corn so sweet you could literally gnaw it raw from the ear, which we did for respite from the shucking and hair pulling. It' s amazing to me that each kernel has its own fine strand—the vehicle for its pollination. Despite my fascination with maize-mating, it can be quite tedious to pull every one of those fine little hairs from the tight rows of plumped up kernels, especially when you' re dealing with a couple dozen cobs.

It was a labor of love, and when it was all over, it felt like a real treasure. So much corn, so many sated friends, such a display of fireworks. “America!”I shouted, and I meant it, thinking of our beloved president and, oh, the place we' ll go. But the magic truly began when all the guests left, and only the Cowles plus one remained on the dock. Christopher, ducking into the house for more beers, somehow knew to win our hearts with Blonde on Blonde. Out came a crooning Dylan, loud enough to drown out the neighbor' s bad musical selection, and leaving us to bundle together and reminisce as the fire pit glowed against the lake. We all knew we were in love—not just me.

And even though Christopher has been here so many times before, the thought of sending him off with a plain old granola breakfast or some standard eggs and bacon was beyond heartbreaking. So I took to the pint of kernels I' d saved to make a very special batch of pancakes, for a very special Sunday morning. These are summer flapjacks at their finest—put away your blueberries and give these a go.

Fresh Corn Pancakes

Adapted from Gourmet: yields about 12 pancakes

1 c all-purpose flour
4 tsp baking powder
2 tbsp Turbinado sugar (or white)
1 tsp kosher salt
3 ears of just-plucked, local corn
¾ c whole milk
2 large eggs
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled
½ c pure maple syrup, warmed in a skillet with a pad of butter

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Whisk flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a medium bowl.

Cut 2 cups worth of corn kernels. Transfer ½ c kernels to blender and puree with milk until smooth.

Strain through a sieve into a large bowl, pressing out as much liquid as possible, then discarding solids.

Whisk eggs, oil and butter into the milk. Add flour mixture with remaining corn and whisk until just combined.

Working in batches, pour dollops onto a hot, generously buttered griddle. Don' t be afraid of the butter here: add about half a tablespoon each time you start with a new batch. You want the melted butter to run around the edges of each cake, rendering it crispy and golden.

Tuna:

Coat two sides of tuna steak with olive oil mixed with grated ginger, diced jalapeño and lemon zest. Or marinate the fish with the mixture, if you have enough time or foresight.
SEAR TUNA AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE IS READY TO EAT
Coat pan in olive oil.
Wait until olive oil begins to smoke and place fish on pan.
Cook a few minutes on either side, until the tuna begins to grey toward the center—remove according to your taste. Good tuna is great rare.

Mango Relish:

(Serves 4)
Dice 2 mangos; chop ½ c cilantro; dice 1 large, red onion; diced whole jalapeño (or half, depending on your taste); mix diced ingredients together until mango softens into a jam-like consistency. Add 1 tbsp lime juice and mix well. Salt if necessary. Let cool (covered tightly) in refrigerator until dinner is ready.

Corn:

With a sharp knife, remove kernels from an ear of fresh corn. Use one ear per person.
Have ready ¼ c chopped cilantro and lemon zested sea salt (see below).
Sautee kernels in a pad of butter.
When the corn is warm (you can tell that it is finished cooking when it begins to smell like itself—don' t overcook! If your corn is nice and fresh, it will taste best al dente) remove from pan and put on a plate at room-temp. Sprinkle with lemon zested salt and mix in ¼ c cilantro.

Lemon Zested Sea Salt:

Zest a lemon or two (preferably organic, since the rinds are where all of the chemicals collect) and add it to a few tablespoons of sea salt—depending on your savory needs.

Apple Ginger Slaw (Low fat option is equally delicious):

(Serves 4 but is easily doubled, tripled, quadrupled, or adapted to fit your preferences)

½ head of green cabbage, sliced finely
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, cut into small chunks
1 carrot, same prep.
1 apple, same prep.
1 very ripe tomato, seeded and cut into chunks
1 oz or so fresh ginger root, peeled, shredded super-fine
→ Mix these ingredients together in a bowl

½ c yogurt (full or non fat, depending on what you like)
1 tbsp mayo or sour cream (I might use low-fat sour cream. But I never use low fat mayo because it is so offensive.)
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp local honey
→Whisk these wet ingredients together at the bottom of a very large bowl

Add dry ingredients to wet, 1 scoop at a time. Let this chill a bit in the refrigerator and serve it cold alongside the warm corn and tuna covered with mango relish.