Local Surprises

My infatuation with farmers’ market-going began in high school, when I would relish Saturday mornings, waking up at a ridiculously early hour and hopping in the car with my step-dad. We’d head to Minneapolis and roam the rows of stalls at the farmers’ market, some selling the produce you’d expect at a Midwestern market; others pushing their hand-crafted cheeses, honey, eggs or meats; and even a few providing exotic (to me) vegetables key to Hmong cooking, all in the shadows of the beautiful Basilica. We’d grab a couple cups of steaming coffee (I’ve been a coffee drinker for a long time; I don’t really believe the stunt-your-growth theory, but I do measure a mere 5’4″, so you be the judge) and do a reconnaissance sweep of the market, keeping an eye on the tastiest morsels, familiar purveyors and most beautiful flowers. Before our second lap, we’d each devour a grilled breakfast sausage—peppery and succulent, nestled in a good quality hot dog bun and striped with ketchup and mustard. Thus fueled, we’d gather armloads of tomatoes, corn, fresh fruit and flowers “for your mother,” as my step-dad would always say.

I’d hit up the Evanston Farmers’ Market every now and again in college, but I mostly looked forward to revisiting the Minneapolis market when I’d be home for a weekend visit or, even better, an entire summer in Minnesota. I didn’t fall into a regular market routine again until I moved to D.C. after college. I was immediately smitten with the Dupont Circle market, conveniently located smack dab in between Kevin’s apartment and mine our first year in D.C. It was a miniature market, in comparison to the bustling market in Minneapolis, but it was charming. And I loved that the warmer climate brought an earlier arrival of peaches, tomatoes and other typically late summer delicacies.

(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & the recipe.)

Back in Chicago two years later, I began to explore the markets that pop up around the city all summer long. There are the markets in the Loop, one of which I’d wander through during my lunch hour the summer I worked at the Daley Center, and another of which I’d wake up early to visit before arriving for work the semester I worked (“externed,” it’s called) for a judge in the Northern District of Illinois. There are also markets in many of the Chicago neighborhoods, including my old one and my new one. The grand-daddy of them all sets up shop in Lincoln Park on Wednesdays and Saturdays—you might remember it from an episode of last season’s Top Chef.

This little trip down farmers’-market-memory lane is all to say that I’m afraid I’ve always taken a rather tunnel vision approach to farmers’ market shopping. I become transfixed by the big ticket items: asparagus and strawberries in the spring; corn, tomatoes and peaches as summer hits its stride; apples and squashes when the leaves start to turn come autumn. But lately, I’ve been noticing all kinds of other treasures, things I had no idea grew in Illinois or thereabouts. Things like hot peppers (can something so fire-y really thrive in a place that spends half the year hovering around 32 degrees?), okra (surely we are on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line for that kind of thing?), melons (too tropical, no?). And also tomatillos. Actually, I was downright shocked to see the little green spheres, sheathed in their papery skins, last weekend at the Wicker Park market. I’m not really sure where I thought tomatillos grew, but I suppose not right here in the Midwest. Nevertheless, I swooped up two little baskets and began to scheme about what I’d do with them.

In the end, I paired them with another get from the same market, one that’s inarguably indigenous to this area: fresh sweet corn. I grilled both the corn and tomatillos, along with a quartered poblano pepper. Once charred, I stripped the cobs of their kernels, minced up the pepper and stirred both into a bowl full of the grilled tomatillos. Next, I drizzled the whole thing with a simple dressing of lime juice, olive oil, cilantro and sea salt: fresh, simple, smoky. It made a lovely addition to last Wednesday’s birthday fiesta—and was a great way to marry one of my farmers’ market standbys (corn) with a newfound treat (tomatillos). It was also a reminder to keep my eyes open at the markets, scanning for ingredients I might not expect to find there.

Grilled Tomatillo-and-Corn Salad

10-12 tomatillos, husks removed, washed and halved
3 ears corn, husks and silks removed
1 poblano pepper, quartered and seeded
1 tablespoon plus two teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon lime juice
2 teaspoons cilantro, minced, plus more for garnish
1/4 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt, divided
1/8 teaspoon fresh-cracked black pepper

Prepare a grill or grill pan. Brush the halved tomatillos with 1 teaspoon olive oil and the quartered poblano with another 1 teaspoon olive oil. Sprinkle the tomatillos and poblano with 1/8 teaspoon of salt and pepper.

Grill the tomatillos (cut side down) for 4 to 6 minutes, until the cut sides have begun to char and the tomatillos have softened. At the same time, grill the corn, rotating the corn 90 degrees every 2 minutes (8 minutes total). Also at the same time, grill the quartered poblano, 4 to 6 minutes, turning once. Once grilled, allow the tomatillos, corn and poblano to cool slightly.

Meanwhile, whisk together the remaining oil, lime juice, cilantro and salt in the bottom of a medium bowl. Set aside.

Once cooled slightly, shave the kernels off the grilled corn; slice the halved, grilled tomatillos in half (to create quarters); and mince the grilled poblano. Place the chopped vegetables in a the medium bowl with the dressing at the bottom. Stir to combine. Garnish with additional cilantro leaves.

Serve warm, at room temperature or chilled.