I am in Hawaii on the Big Island along the Kona Coast.

The ocean is wherever you look – and I can’t help but think of its relation to the food traditions of these islands.

When we think of seafood we tend to think fish first. There is fish aplenty in these islands. You can be sure of that. But there is vegetation from the sea too. It has the generic and slightly unappetizing name name of seaweed, but don’t let that moniker scare you off this delicious and healthy taste treat from the sea.

But if you just can’t get past the word I suggest you get to know this vegetable by it’s Hawaiian name, limu.

Here limu traditionally meant any type of plant living in the sea. But as Hawaiian words began to find their way into the vocabulary of English speakers that came to dominate the island limu has come to be known as any type of edible seaweed, of which there are several varieties.

One of these varieties is Ogo. Now ogo is the Japanese generic word for seaweed, but it has also been adapted by English speaking Hawaiians to mean a specific type of edible seaweed.

Today I have a seaweed salad using two types of limu: ogo and arame. More specifically I’d call it a slaw, and whether you choose to call the main component of this salad limu or ogo it is worth seeking out for the briny flavor and crunchy texture it brings.

It's Day 2 in my week-long tribute to summer corn and I want to get to this recipe while corn is at its best. Because when corn is this fresh and seasonal it is so good you could it it raw. And sometimes I do.

In fact I have been known to gnaw on a raw ear of corn while still standing in the market. But that can be a bit inelegant. Especially when you are having that nice young couple down the street over for a poolside luncheon. I think in that instance I should be on my best behavior and actually remove the kernels from the cob and serve them on a plate. Because I may not mind having my dear old friends see me chomp away on an ear of raw corn, but the new kids on the block deserve a slower introduction to my wiley ways.

And I do mean kids. Have you noticed that adults are coming in younger and younger versions? Anyway they're new I wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea. It's not that I am uncouth or easily unlikeable, but young people are so impresionable, you know. I think I'll start them out with forks and napkins. Their parents would be proud of me.

That is why I am serving this corn raw, off the cob– and in a salad.  Raw corn, arugula and lemon balm from my garden served with a nicely grilled chicken breast, and chunks of toasty bread. Do you think the new neighbors will notice I took the kernels off the cobb? I hope they don't think I can't trust them knives. Although at what age is it appropriate to let children handle sharp objects... thirty... thirty-two?

Today I am handing over my kitchen tongs to a chef. A real chef. A working chef! His name is Jason, but you may know him as the The Well Done Chef.

Now Jason is a dude with strong opinions. I admire that– and though he may be an actual chef, and though he may have a fancy French name for the method he wants to discuss today. I want you to know that I have a little non-chef secret of my own. What he calls Système Débrouillard, I have always called default. As in the default pasta that makes random appearances here on Sippity Sup.

As proud as I am of my default dishes, I am not sure this qualifies me to the title of chef. Because Jason takes the concept of default to an art.  Still, whatever fancy name this style of cooking goes by– I like to call it "cooking by the seat of your pants!".  And just so you know, if I were indeed a chef I would call default cooking cuisiner par le siège de vos pantalons!

So please read on and welcome Jason as he proves what I have always known, Default Cooking (or should I say Système D?) is what the love of the kitchen is all about! GREG