Elote

When life (or Woolies supermarket) gives you $1 corn cobs, might I suggest you make elote. This common Mexican street food could just be the best corn you’ve ever had. I’ve only had it in Melbourne, after queuing for one hour to sample this messy goodness at a so-hot-right-now restaurant in the city. The restaurant has prevailed beyond its hot minute, amazingly, however my vow to never pretentious-restaurant queue again meant an intensive season of home-testing corn recipes, so that I could have it whenever I desired. Thank the heavens this stuff is delicious, or else I might have been concerned about the amount of corn stuck in my teeth for several weeks (not cumulative corn bits permanently stuck – that’s gross – but fresh bits after each iteration, to be clear). Besides needing decent teeth to confront this kind of corn, elote also requires sufficient elbow room and many napkins. And best to be facing a wall – first-date food it is not.

I rarely make this comfort food wonder, being the housemate of a child who doesn’t do creamy things, and yet I have made it several times in the past few months after many years of its absence in my life. On two occasions it was for the friends and family of a certain boyfriend, who happens to be in possession of a barbecue. This excites me greatly, aside from the whole boyfriend thing, because barbecued corn really is next level.

Making food for the first time for my partner’s people, let alone meeting said people as the new girlfriend, was not something I approached lightly. No matter my age, credentials with in-laws past or how lovely and welcoming the boyfriend crew actually are, there were nerves.

I’m pretty sure it was the elote that got me in with his friends. Photos of the corn platter were taken and there were murmurs and eye-closure moments of happiness while eating. The recipe was requested (hence me typing this up!) and once again, comfort food prevailed. I was one of the gang.

Only a few nights ago I had the great pleasure of watching the boyfriend’s teen nephews looking at the platter of loaded corn warily. After explaining what the goop on top was, then decided to give it a go and proceeded to eat their corn with full-body presence in focussed silence. This made me happy, such was my need for family approval via my food (in reality they are very kind and complimentary people in any case, and I’m not just saying that because the boyfriend will read this!).

So, I hope the recipe is shared far and wide, because this corn really deserves to be shared. It’s one for the diplomatic and familial relations, I say. Pair it with barbecued fish and guacamole, and you’ve got a pretty good thing happening. And likely no leftovers.

INGREDIENTS

4 medium ears shucked corn
3 heaped tablespoons whole egg mayonnaise
1–2 limes
pinch dried chilli flakes or powder
1 heaped teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon ground cumin
50 g crumbled cotija anejo (a dry Mexican cheese) or grated Parmesan + extra, to serve
coriander, to serve (optional)
sea salt and black pepper to taste

METHOD

Parboil corn ears in a large pot for 8–10 minutes.

While boiling the ears, combine the other ingredients (except coriander) on a large plate for rolling your corn. Adjust seasoning and spices to taste.

Then, barbecue or grill the corn over a medium heat. Brush the corn with oil and cook for 10 minutes, turning often, until charred.

Once your corn is chargrilled, roll each ear in the mixture, then add extra grated Parmesan, a squeeze of lime and a sprinkle of cayenne pepper and coriander.