Hearty Quinoa & Corn Chowder
My grandmother lived in the Appalachian Mountains and always served straight-from-the-garden corn and beans. I updated her dish with quinoa and herbs.
My grandmother lived in the Appalachian Mountains and always served straight-from-the-garden corn and beans. I updated her dish with quinoa and herbs.
- 2 garlic cloves minced
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon butter
- 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
- 1-1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1/2 teaspoon pepper
- 1 medium onion chopped
- 2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
- 2 cups heavy whipping cream
- 1 cup quinoa rinsed
- 1 can (15 ounces) pinto beans rinsed and drained
- 4 cups vegetable stock
- 1/2 teaspoon minced fresh thyme
- 3 medium sweet red peppers
- 6 medium ears sweet corn kernels removed (about 4 cups) or 2 packages (10 ounces) frozen
- Carbohydrate 19.95498096477 g
- Cholesterol 25.6645089295058 mg
- Fat 8.50012543346198 g
- Fiber 1.78577339630964 g
- Protein 3.23706688280026 g
- Saturated Fat 4.62928036620503 g
- Serving Size 1 1 servings (3/4 cup each). (467g)
- Sodium 1663.80484591568 mg
- Sugar 18.1692075684604 g
- Trans Fat 0.527942969228581 g
- Calories 168 calories
Step-by-step
- Broil peppers 4 in. from the heat until skins blister, about 5 minutes. With tongs, rotate peppers a quarter turn. Broil and rotate until all sides are blistered and blackened. Immediately place peppers in a large bowl; cover and let stand for 20 minutes.
- Peel off and discard charred skin. Remove stems and seeds. Finely chop peppers.
- Meanwhile, in a Dutch oven, cook and stir quinoa over medium-high heat for 3-5 minutes or until lightly toasted; remove from the pan.
- In the same pan, heat butter and oil over medium-high heat. Add onion; cook and stir until tender. Add garlic; cook 1 minute longer. Stir in flour until blended. Gradually whisk in stock and cream.
- Add the corn, beans, roasted peppers and quinoa; bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, for 15-20 minutes or until quinoa is tender, stirring occasionally. Stir in the remaining ingredients.
A Taste of Home: My Grandma's Updated Corn Chowder
This recipe isn't just a bowl of soup; it's a journey back to my childhood, to the warm embrace of my grandmother's Appalachian kitchen. Grandma’s garden was her pride and joy, overflowing with vibrant vegetables—corn, beans, tomatoes, the whole shebang. Her corn and bean dishes were legendary, simple yet bursting with flavor, a testament to the magic of fresh, seasonal ingredients. She didn’t need fancy recipes or exotic spices; she let the garden's bounty speak for itself.
As I grew older and moved away, I found myself craving those simple, wholesome meals. This hearty quinoa and corn chowder is my modern take on one of her classics. I've kept the essence of her recipe—the sweetness of the corn, the heartiness of the beans—but I've added a twist with quinoa, giving it a boost of protein and a slightly nutty flavor. The roasted red peppers add a smoky depth, perfectly complementing the sweetness of the corn. The whole dish is a symphony of textures and tastes, a comforting hug in a bowl.
Why this recipe works: The beauty of this chowder lies in its simplicity and adaptability. You can easily adjust it to your liking. Want more spice? Add a pinch of cayenne pepper. Prefer a creamier texture? Use more heavy cream. Don’t have fresh corn? Frozen corn works just as well. The recipe is flexible, letting you tailor it to your pantry and preferences.
Beyond the recipe: This chowder isn't just about the ingredients; it’s about the memories, the stories, the love woven into each spoonful. It's a dish that transports me back to those warm summer evenings spent with Grandma, the scent of her garden filling the air, the laughter echoing around the table. It’s a reminder of simpler times, of the importance of family, and the power of food to connect us across generations.
Making this chowder is more than just cooking; it’s an act of remembrance, a way to keep those precious memories alive. It's a recipe passed down, updated, and shared – a culinary love letter to my grandmother and a testament to the enduring power of family traditions.
I encourage you to try this recipe. Let it warm your soul as it warmed mine. Share it with your loved ones. Make your own memories around the table, passing on the legacy of delicious, simple food that nourishes both the body and the heart.
This is more than just a recipe; it’s a story. A story of family, love, and the enduring magic of a home-cooked meal. So grab your ingredients, put on some music, and let the aromas of this hearty chowder fill your kitchen with warmth and the comforting scent of home.
