Summer Vegetarian Recipes — Mama’s Cast-Iron Corn Fritters From the Johns Island Stand

August in Charleston is a test of character. The heat is not weather; it is a philosophical position. It demands that you either surrender to slowness or suffer the consequences of pretending the air isn't trying to drown you. I have surrendered. I walk to the library before seven AM, when the air is merely warm instead of hostile, and I walk home after five, when the shadows have begun their slow conquest of the sidewalks. In between, I live in the air-conditioned cathedral of the library and am grateful for the technology that makes Southern civilization possible.

The summer reading program ends this week. Final count: 341 children completed the challenge. We will celebrate with an ice cream social on Saturday, which I will attend in my official capacity as branch manager and my unofficial capacity as a woman who will eat any ice cream placed in her vicinity. The children will receive certificates and book prizes, and some of them will not care and some of them will carry those certificates home like trophies, and those are the ones I do this for — the ones for whom a piece of paper that says "I read 20 books this summer" is the most important document they will receive all year.

James is wrapping up his summer at the bookstore. He told me last night that Mr. Haworth offered him a part-time position during the school year — weekends and one afternoon. He wants to take it. Robert, predictably, thinks it will interfere with schoolwork. I, equally predictably, think a teenager who wants to work in a bookstore instead of staring at his phone is a miracle that should not be questioned. We will discuss it further. Discussion, in the Blackwood household, is a euphemism for the slow, dignified process by which Robert comes around to my position.

Carrie has been packing for the new school year at Ashley Hall, which for Carrie means organizing notebooks by color and labeling folders with the kind of precision I bring to library cataloguing. She is starting high school in two weeks. Fourteen years old in December. She asked me this week what high school was like for me, and I told her the truth: I was the preacher's daughter, the bookworm, the girl who won every essay contest and attended every after-school study session because the library was more interesting than the alternative, which was going home and being told that writing stories was impractical. She said, "That's sad, Mom." I said, "It was also the making of me."

I made corn fritters this week — Mama's recipe, using fresh corn cut off the cob, flour, egg, a little sugar, fried in a cast-iron skillet until golden. They are the simplest thing and the best thing, which is a principle that applies to food and to life and to the answers I give when my children ask me questions. The corn was from the Johns Island farm stand, which is the only place I buy corn because their corn tastes like what corn tasted like before agriculture became an industry. Carrie ate six fritters and declared them "acceptable," which is the highest praise a teenager can offer and which I accepted with the gravity it deserved.

With 341 children finishing their reading challenge and Carrie heading into high school in two weeks, this felt like the week that asked for something uncomplicated and true — the kind of food that doesn’t negotiate with you. Mama’s corn fritters are that food. They require nothing more than what the Johns Island farm stand already gave me, and they reward you so far out of proportion to the effort involved that they feel like a small argument for optimism. If Carrie is going to carry a certificate home like a trophy and call six fritters “acceptable,” I will take every bit of that as the gift it is.

Summer Corn Fritters (Mama’s Cast-Iron Recipe)

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4 (about 12 fritters)

Ingredients

• 3 ears fresh corn, kernels cut from the cob (about 2 cups)
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup fine cornmeal
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/3 cup whole milk
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
• 2 tablespoons thinly sliced scallions (optional)
• Vegetable oil or additional butter, for frying
• Sour cream or honey, for serving

Instructions

1. Cut the corn. Stand each ear upright in a wide bowl and use a sharp knife to slice the kernels cleanly from the cob, cutting close to the core. You want about 2 cups of fresh kernels. Scrape the back of the blade down the cob to release the milky corn juice into the bowl — this adds sweetness to the batter.
2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt, pepper, and sugar until evenly combined.
3. Add the wet ingredients. Add the beaten eggs, milk, and melted butter to the dry ingredients. Stir until just combined — a few lumps are fine. Fold in the corn kernels and scallions if using. The batter will be thick.
4. Heat the skillet. Place a cast-iron skillet over medium heat and add enough vegetable oil or butter to coat the bottom generously, about 2 tablespoons. Heat until the oil shimmers and a drop of batter sizzles on contact.
5. Fry the fritters. Drop heaping tablespoons of batter into the skillet, gently pressing each one into a 2 1/2-inch round. Work in batches of 3 to 4, leaving room between each fritter. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes per side, until deeply golden and cooked through. Adjust heat as needed — cast iron holds heat, so turn it down slightly between batches if the fritters are browning too fast.
6. Drain and serve. Transfer finished fritters to a paper towel-lined plate. Add a little more oil between batches as needed. Serve warm, with sour cream or a drizzle of honey alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 340mg