Mexican Tomato and Corn Salad

Summer hit like a truck. One day the kids are in school and the house is quiet from 7:30 to 3:00, and the next day all three of them are home, all day, every day, and the noise level goes from "comfortable" to "stadium rock concert" to "is someone operating heavy machinery in the living room?" The answer is yes — Rémy found a pot and a wooden spoon and has been drumming since Monday. It's Thursday. My hearing may never recover.

Danielle is home for the summer too, which is one of the perks of being a teacher and one of the terrors of being married to a man who works all day while she manages three feral children. We have a system: she handles mornings (breakfast, sunscreen, activity planning), I handle evenings (dinner, bath time, the ritual wrestling match that is putting Rémy to bed). The afternoons are a no-man's land where anything can happen and usually does. This week: Colette cut her own hair. Not well. Danielle took her to the salon to fix it, and the stylist said, "Oh, sweetie, what happened?" and Colette said, "I wanted layers." She's seven. She wanted layers.

Luc started summer baseball — the travel team, which means tournaments on weekends in towns I've barely heard of, which means coolers packed with water bottles and sandwiches and sunscreen, which means I sit in bleachers in hundred-degree heat and sweat through my shirt and cheer for my son, which is the best and worst way to spend a Saturday simultaneously. He's getting good, though. His coach says he's got the best glove on the team. First base. Solid. Dependable. Not flashy. Just like his daddy.

I made a catfish courtbouillon this week — and before anyone says it, I know it's spelled "courtbouillon" and pronounced "COO-be-yon" and if you're not from Louisiana you're going to mispronounce it and that's fine, we forgive you, just eat it. It's a tomato-based fish stew, heavy on the catfish, thick with roux and trinity, served over rice. It's not gumbo and it's not étouffée and it's not bouillabaisse even though it sounds like it should be. It's its own thing. Cajun catfish stew. Joey made it on Fridays during Lent — not because he was particularly devout, but because Marie-Claire was, and when Marie-Claire said fish on Friday, you ate fish on Friday, and you liked it.

I used catfish from a guy at the farmers' market who farms them in a pond outside of New Roads. Farm-raised catfish doesn't have the muddy taste that wild catfish sometimes gets — it's clean, white, firm. You fry the roux first, dark but not as dark as gumbo roux, then build the sauce: tomatoes, bell pepper, onion, garlic, bay leaf, a splash of Worcestershire. The catfish goes in last, gently, because catfish falls apart if you look at it wrong. Twenty minutes of low simmering and it's done. Served over white rice with hot sauce on the table for the brave.

Rémy proclaimed it "the best soup in the world," which is what he says about every soup I make, which means either I am an extraordinary soup maker or Rémy has no frame of reference. I'll take it either way.

The courtbouillon had my full attention — roux doesn’t forgive distraction — so whatever hit the table alongside it had to handle itself, no stirring, no timing, no second pair of eyes. I threw this Mexican Tomato and Corn Salad together while the catfish was doing its last twenty minutes of low simmering, and it was exactly the kind of bright, cold contrast that a thick, rich stew like that needs in July. Farmers’ market tomatoes were already on the counter anyway, and if the corn is good, this salad is better than it has any right to be for how little work it asks of you.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 cups fresh corn kernels (from about 3 ears, or thawed frozen corn)
1 1/2 cups cherry or Roma tomatoes, quartered
1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
1 jalapeño, seeded and minced
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/3 cup cotija cheese, crumbled (optional)
1/2 avocado, diced (optional)

Instructions

Prep the corn. If using fresh ears, stand each cob upright in a wide bowl and cut the kernels downward with a sharp knife to catch them. If using frozen corn, thaw completely and pat dry with a paper towel so the salad doesn’t get watery.
Combine the vegetables. In a large bowl, add the corn, tomatoes, red onion, jalapeño, and cilantro. Toss gently to distribute evenly.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl or measuring cup, whisk together the lime juice, olive oil, cumin, salt, and black pepper until combined.
Dress the salad. Pour the dressing over the vegetable mixture and toss well to coat everything. Taste and adjust salt or lime as needed — this salad likes a little extra acid.
Finish and serve. If using cotija and avocado, fold them in just before serving to keep the avocado from browning and the cheese from dissolving. Serve immediately at room temperature, or refrigerate up to 2 hours and toss again before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Tomato and Corn Salad — The No-Babysit Side Dish That Survived Our Summer