There’s a running joke in chef circles: to score a star, hat or whatever manner of legitimacy food critics dish out, put burnt stuff on the menu.
I don’t mean burnished-edged lasagne, or “burnt” butter sauce (which is really just caramelised). Nor your burnt ego when you catch a whiff of something singed and wonder “who left the oven on?” only to look in the kitchen and realise (spoiler alert) it was you.
I mean, of course, carefully charred asparagus on a barbecue, or the satisfying tiger-stripes of a sizzled steak. Beyond the beauty of artfully singed bits, charring also builds complexity in simple ingredients – think peaches on the grill or damper over coals. This technique imparts a pleasingly bitter, toffee-like flavour with smoky aromatics – which has a primal, elemental impact when we take that first bite.
The skill is knowing when your ingredients have kissed the flame enough to have the desired effect, without charring to a crisp. A watched bit never burns, and remember: you control the heat; the heat does not control you.
The key with chargrilling is in the preheat. Make sure your barbecue or pan is searingly hot – smoking, in fact. This means that whatever ingredient you pop on its surface will sear right away rather than schvitz and stew. I often check if a pan is hot enough by sprinkling some salt flakes on its surface – once the flakes start to heat up and “pop” like popcorn, it’s good to go.
Sweet vegetables, including corn and spring onions, are prime candidates for charring. They work particularly well when the brooding, bitter and smoky bits are served with the fresh, sweet flavours of unsullied sections, brought together with something rich and creamy. The interplay works wonders. It’s why baba ganoush, made by charring the exterior of an eggplant until the innards are practically liquified, always sings once you’ve added tahini and olive oil.
Creamed corn, charred corn slices, charred lemon and spring onion oil – recipe
Another dish that exemplifies this balance can be found in one of Melbourne’s hottest (pun always intended!) wine bars: Embla. It’s the kind of place where the chefs wear black T-shirts in an open galley kitchen with a fiery centrepiece within which many of the dishes are forged. Dave Verheul, head black T-shirt wearer and fire-breather, has had his “creamed corn with creme fraiche, oregano and dried citrus” on the menu seasonally for years; it’s a dish I still regularly think about as the weather warms and corn crops up.
I’ve riffed on Dave’s genius combo to create a weekday version that’s somewhere between dip, creamed corn and chowder. The oil of charred spring onion and burnt lemon is easy to make on a barbecue or griddle pan, and any leftovers can be stored in the fridge for a couple of weeks.
To slice the raw kernels off the cob without them flying everywhere, invert a small bowl inside a larger one, stand the cob upright on top of the inverted bowl and use a sharp paring knife to slice off the kernels.
Soaking the corn husks before chargrilling keeps them from burning on impact and creates its own natural baking paper en papillote (an in-envelope steaming method as it’s known in French cuisine) within which the corn can steam and then char. After they’ve soaked, pull back the husks and rub your fingers over the cobs to slip off the silks. If you’re in a hurry, pop the corn, husk and all, into the microwave for one minute, then slice off the tip and base and squeeze out the cob (the silks will remain on the husk). You can then char the corn directly on the griddle with the lightest lick of oil.
To minimise kitchen waste, you could even keep the microwaved husks and silks to make a veg stock. Pop them in a pot with one litre of boiling water and boil away until the water has reduced by three-quarters, leaving a cup of corny stock. Strain, then refrigerate or freeze to use for a future corn-y soup.
When your dish is done and dusted, serve with crusty bread and encourage your household to help themselves to a bowl of corniness each, and then dig in with their bready trenchers, sans double-dipping. And, like another trope of restaurants today: this dish is designed to share.
Serves 4-6 as a dippy meal
1 tbsp neutral oil (20ml) – I like grapeseed or rice bran
50g butter
2-3 cloves garlic, finely sliced
1 bunch spring onions (about 12 stalks), white and light green parts finely sliced, dark green stalks kept whole for the spring onion oil (see below)
8-9 cobs of corn, husk and silk removed
125ml vegetable stock, plus extra
100ml pouring cream
Chilli crisp oil (I like Umami Papi), finely sliced spring onion and crusty bread, to serve
Creme fraiche, to serve (optional but excellent)
For the charred lemon and spring onion oil
2 lemons, halved through the “equator”
12 spring onion stalks, dark green parts (from above)
250ml neutral oil (1 cup)
Heat a frying pan (with a lid) over medium heat. Add the oil, butter, garlic and spring onion whites and light greens, and sweat, covered, for five to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally until the spring onion is super soft and translucent. Allow to cool slightly.
Slice the kernels from six corn cobs. In a blender, add half the corn kernels and the spring onion mixture, and blitz until smooth. Set aside the remaining whole corn kernels and wash the blender. You’ll need it again later.
Soak the remaining corn cobs in well-salted water. If needed, place a plate or plastic bottle on top to fully submerge them.
To make the creamed corn, in a large pot add the blitzed corn and spring onion mixture, vegetable stock, cream and remaining whole corn kernels. Bring to a simmer and cook on a medium heat for 20 to 30 minutes, partially covered.
While the creamed corn is simmering, make the charred lemon and spring onion oil. Place a griddle pan over high heat. Add the lemons, cut side down, and cook for five minutes until blackened, then remove and set aside to cool (leave the pan on the heat). Add the spring onion stalks to the still-hot pan and leave to wilt and char for two minutes. Remove the spring onion stalks and set aside (leave the pan on the heat).
In the pan add the soaked corn cobs. Grill, turning occasionally, for about 20 minutes. You’ll know the corn is ready to turn when the husks turn vibrant green and the kernels underneath begin to char. (If you’re in a hurry, pull back the husks and tie these off to create handles to make the turning easier. Lightly oil the corn to prevent them from drying out, and grill for about seven to 10 minutes, turning occasionally.) Set aside and allow to cool, then carefully slice off the kernels into long “slices”.
Continue with the charred lemon and spring onion oil. In a blender, add the charred spring onion stalks, neutral oil, a pinch of salt, and squeeze in the juice from the cooled charred lemons. Blitz for five minutes, occasionally scraping down the sides of the blender to break down the spring onion and heat up the oil a little (this will help infuse the oil). Strain through a sieve lined with clean muslin or kitchen cloth (don’t squeeze, as this will make the oil cloudy). Decant into a very clean jar.
By now, the simmering creamed corn should be nearly done. If needed, add a splash of vegetable stock to loosen the mixture. When the kernels are tender and the mixture is a vibrant yellow, turn off the heat and season with salt and freshly ground pepper.
Pour the creamed corn into a serving bowl, top with the grilled corn kernels, drizzle over the lemon and spring onion oil, some chilli crisp oil and creme fraiche (if using). Garnish with some finely sliced spring onion and another crack of pepper. Serve with crusty bread.
