Quinoa With Corn, Mint, And Scallions, Or, Think of The Peasants Linda!

Medically reviewed by Christiana George Updated Date: June 8, 2023

I pride myself on how cleanly I can eat corn on the cob. In one miraculous maneuver (if I do say so myself), my head moving left to right like a typewriter, I consume the entire thing without leaving a single kernel behind. They are so detached so neatly that all that remains are long, empty furrows.

It’s a strange thing to be proud of, no? I learned this skill from my mom, the Queen of Economy, who never wasted so much as a single kernel of corn. She instilled this mindset in my sister and me to an almost obsessive degree. Case in point: at the end of dinner, a quick examination of the bowls would reveal three—mine, my mom’s, and my sister’s—to be completely spotless. Not a single grain of rice, a single grain of rice, left to speak of. My dad’s, on the other hand, is usually coated with a thin layer of the stuff, stained with residue from the meal. Oh Dad.

Like the children in Africa, us Chinese have our nongming, peasant class, to think of: every grain of rice left behind represents wasted toil on the part of the rice farmer. Of course, my dad comes from a family of rice farmers and he clearly isn’t heartbroken over the squandered rice. My mom has a retort to that though—his family had pigs to feed.

Anyway, whenever I use corn in recipes, I think about how my mom would have a fit seeing how much of the cob I waste when sawing off the kernels. All that wasted sustenance, Linda!

It’s a good thing I keep my cooking to a minimum when I’m visiting.

Today’s recipe is healthy and delicious, and comes with a huge serving of corn, which, when in season, glows, lovely and diffuse. I love eating it raw, and I think you will too, especially if you can get it fresh. While quinoa isn’t the most dazzling base for a summer side, this quinoa is light and fluffy, effervescent even, AND comes dressed in lemony butter. I’m sure you can imagine just what an effect lemony butter can have. Finally, the fresh mint and fresh scallion insert themselves—in their own unique ways—quite winningly, adding refreshing and ever-so-pungent notes (respectively) to the dish. All in all, I highly recommend making this as a counterbalance to a hefty platterful of meat.

QUINOA WITH CORN, MINT, AND SCALLIONS

Adapted from Gourmet

Serves 8

Ingredients:

4 ears corn, shucked
Zest from 1 lemon
Juice from 1 lemon
1/2 stick butter (1/4 cup), melted
1 Tbsp mild honey
Salt & pepper to taste
2 cups quinoa
4 scallions, chopped
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint

Directions:

Since it’s the season, simply cut the corn kernels off the cob with a heavy knife. Otherwise, put corn in a 5- to 6-quart wide pot, add water to cover, and bring to a boil, covered. Remove from heat and let stand, still covered, for 5 minutes. Transfer corn with tongs to a cutting board. When cool enough to handle, cut kernels off cobs with a knife.

In a (very) large bowl, whisk the lemon juice and zest, butter, honey, and salt/pepper until combined.

Cook the quinoa in a 4- to 5-quart pot of boiling salted water, uncovered, until almost tender, about 10 minutes. Drain in sieve, then set sieve over same pot with 1 inch of simmering water (water should not touch bottom of sieve). Cover quinoa with a folded kitchen towel, then cover sieve with a lid and steam until quinoa is tender, fluffy, and dry, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand (still covered) 5 minutes.
Add quinoa to dressing and toss until dressing is absorbed. Then toss in scallions, mint, and more salt and pepper if needed.

Note: Unless you’re planning on feeding a crowd, I would highly recommend halving this recipe. It makes a lot more than you’d think.

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Citrus Pomegranate Mint Tea

Beverages

Christiana George

Updated Date:
June 8, 2023

I’m not usually a fan of juices. The frugal side of me finds them terribly wasteful—all that fiber being squeezed away, especially when fruit comes at such a high cost in these parts. And I’m still a little scarred from that Kelly Wearstler interview in Bon Appetit awhile ago, where she basically admitted to being on a liquid diet for about 90% of her day. Shudder. The thought of subsisting off plankton water and Superfood juice sounds horribly depressing. (But then again, I’m not an interior, architecture, and fashion maven with a small empire under my feet. There can’t be too much to be depressed about when one’s life is described that way.)

Despite my ambivalence, I haven’t been able to get a certain citrus punch out of my head. It was, without exaggeration, one of the most refreshing beverages I’ve ever drunk. I’ve been yearning for something as rejuvenating ever since, so it only seemed right to take advantage of citrus season and try my hand at concocting my own version.

My notes below.

1. Satsuma orange juice is, hands down, my favorite. It’s sweet and festive and smells so good! And it’s practically opaque! Like liquid sunshine, truly. But a piece of my heart breaks every time I juice one; it just goes against my better judgment, you know? They’re meant to be eaten! Nature couldn’t have engineered a better snack fruit. The waste, oh, the waste!

2. Blood orange juice is kind of bossy. You know how it’s got a slightly woody taste? Yeah, that tends to take over whatever you mix it with. Its color also dominates, which is fine most of the time because blood orange juice is beautiful, but not when it obscures the aforementioned sunshine.

3. Cara cara oranges look pretty, but their juice comes out tasting and looking an awful lot like regular orange juice. The two are pretty interchangeable in my mind, although cara caras are such a pleasure to eat because of their lovely salmon hue.

4. Yuzus are a bitch to juice. Have you seen a yuzu? (If not, picture below.) It’s like the sumo wrestler of the citrus world, all thick skin and padding. It’s also got thick, well-developed, er, walls (sorry, didn’t have time to brush up on my citrus anatomy), requiring some serious muscle action to extract a disappointingly scant amount of juice. But, like the way it smells—floral and extremely fragrant—its juice tastes pretty spectacular. It’s one of my dad’s favorite fruits.

I also introduced some ruby red grapefruits, honey tangerines, lemon, and sweet lime into the mix. Nothing to note, except grapefruit juice is awfully watery. I would’ve loved to get my hands on some kumquats, but Whole Foods didn’t have any in stock, sadly. I wouldn’t juice them anyway – the skin is part and parcel of the whole kumquat experience.

As far as mixes go, I realized the complexity of each type of citrus would be drowned out if I didn’t curate my selection. So I decided to stick to just two types, cara cara (or navel) and satsuma. They’re quite complementary.

In the end though, I wanted something more than just a fancy fruit juice. I wanted a restorative counterpart that would coax me into a zen-like calm. That’s where the green tea comes in. It adds a touch of earnestness to the drink that turns it into a balm that chases away all wintry blues.

CITRUS POMEGRANATE MINT TEA

Makes 1 drink
Adapted from Martha Stewart

The measurements listed below are rough, as so much of the drink depends on the strength of the tea and how sweet you usually like your drinks. I would go easy on the sugar, though. It’s meant to be refreshing, not a Starbucks beverage. Also, for the green tea, I used a loose-leaf jasmine that I infused to the strength I usually like to drink it.

Ingredients:

5 fresh mint leaves
A pinch or two of sugar
1/2 cup or so fresh citrus juice (I like a mixture of about half tangerine juice and half cara cara)
1 Tbsp pomegranate molasses
Ice
1/2 cup or more green tea, chilled

Directions:

Muddle mint and sugar in the bottom of a tall glass until mint breaks into tiny pieces. Add juice and molasses; stir to combine. Fill glass halfway with ice and top with green tea. Stir before serving.