Vegan Corn Chowder

Lucy Margaret Cole arrived on Wednesday at 2:14 in the afternoon, seven pounds, four ounces, in Portland, Maine, where the only person not in the room was me. Sarah called Helen. Helen called me. I was in the garden, kneeling in the dirt with a trowel in my hand and dirt under my fingernails, and Helen came out the back door and said, "It's a girl. Lucy. Everyone's fine." And I sat back on my heels in the garden and looked at the sky and thought: six. Six grandchildren. And this one is named Lucy, which was Helen's aunt's name, the one who lived on the Maine coast and taught Helen about clam chowder and the ocean and the particular joy of living near water that's too cold to swim in.

We drove to Portland on Thursday. Four hours, which Helen used to knit the last three inches of whatever she'd been making — it was a blanket, yellow, small, finished in the car and still warm from her hands when she put it in the baby's bassinet. Sarah looked like Sarah always looks after something monumental: tired, radiant, slightly annoyed that her body had done something so extreme without her explicit permission. Tom looked like a man who had witnessed a miracle and was still processing the invoice.

I held Lucy. She was smaller than James had been — lighter, more delicate, with Sarah's nose and Tom's forehead and an expression that suggested she was reserving judgment on all of us. I held her carefully, the way I hold all babies, with the awareness that my hands are too big and too rough for something so new. Helen says I hold babies like I'm holding live grenades. I say live grenades and newborns have something in common: one wrong move and everything changes.

"She looks like your mother," I said to Sarah. I meant Helen. I meant my Helen, my wife, who was standing beside me with tears on her face and her hand on the blanket she'd made. But I also meant the other Helen — my mother, who died nineteen years ago and who Sarah resembles in ways that catch me off guard sometimes, in the tilt of her head, in the way she laughs, in the stubborn set of her jaw when she's decided something.

Sarah cried. I did not. Bergstroms. But it was close.

We stopped at a diner on the drive home. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of clam chowder. Helen had the same. We ate without talking much, full of the particular exhaustion that comes from driving four hours to hold a baby for twenty minutes and driving four hours home. The chowder was mediocre. The sandwich was adequate. The day was perfect. You don't need the food to be perfect when the day already is.

The chowder at that diner was mediocre. I said so. Helen agreed. But when we got home, I kept thinking about it — not the chowder we had, but the chowder we deserved on a day like that. Helen’s Aunt Lucy would have been appalled at what they served us, and she would have been right. So the next weekend, I made this corn chowder at home — creamy, honest, the kind of bowl you eat slowly while telling your wife for the fourth time how small the baby’s fingers were. It’s not clam chowder, but it’s close enough in spirit, and it’s better than anything that diner put in front of us.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 ears fresh corn, kernels cut from cob (about 5 cups), cobs reserved
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced into 1/2-inch cubes
4 cups vegetable broth
1 cup full-fat coconut milk
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh chives, chopped, for garnish
Crusty bread, for serving

Instructions

Make the corn stock. Place the reserved corn cobs in a pot with 4 cups of vegetable broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Remove cobs and discard. Set the enriched broth aside.
Sauté the aromatics. In a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook for 1 minute more.
Build the chowder base. Add the diced potatoes, smoked paprika, thyme, and bay leaf. Pour in the corn-enriched broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cook until potatoes are fork-tender, about 12 to 15 minutes.
Add the corn. Stir in 3/4 of the corn kernels and cook for 5 minutes until tender.
Blend for creaminess. Remove the bay leaf. Transfer about 2 cups of the chowder to a blender and blend until smooth. Return the blended mixture to the pot. Stir in the coconut milk, remaining corn kernels, and apple cider vinegar.
Season and serve. Warm the chowder through over low heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Ladle into bowls and top with chopped chives. Serve with crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Vegan Corn Chowder — The Bowl We Needed on the Drive Home from Lucy