This is Day 6 of my Sweet on Corn series. That means it is the sixth of seven posts dedicated to sweet summer corn. I always forget how hard these series can be, too. But when I say seven posts in a row. I mean it. Seven posts. Seven days. No breaks.

But that doesn't mean I can't simplify some. So today's corn conundrum solves itself with a pasta dish.

It’s not something you see every day but “fresh corn and pasta make a great combination of flavors. When sun-dried tomatoes and toasted garlic are added you get an intensity of flavors that belies the simplicity of the cooking.”

That’s a quote from Michael Chiarello. He sums this pasta dish up very well– so I went ahead and included his words. The inspiration and flavors for today’s corn recipe comes from him. Sure I simplified and edited quite a bit from his original recipe, but I do believe I kept the spirit intact. So much intact that the quote seems to work with my version as well as it works with his. Besides I can’t imagine saying it any better than he did. Especially on day six of a week-long corn marathon.

But I still need to put my two cents in some place, so I decided to illustrate the perfect simplicity that defines this dish with an equally simple still life as my mise en place photo. I get a lot of pleasure putting together ingredient vignettes like this. The photo meanies don't seem to like them, but it's Day 6 and I don't really care! Besides I like to think these shots are art, not food porn. Because for me there is pleasure in mise en place in general, whether I plan to photograph it or not.

I have a pasta salad today, a dandelion pasta salad. This salad is made heavenly with the addition of feta cheese. It’s such a good salad it took two cooks to make it. Not that it is difficult. But there is a rather complicated story surrounding its creation. And because this other cook is a blogger, you can read her thoughts on this salad by clicking here.

But from my point of view I'd like you to meet the new girl in town. Formerly known as Spinach Tiger, I have renamed her for the purposes of this post. For the next thousand words or so she shall be known as– Dandelion Kitty!

That’s because Ms. Dandelion Kitty (Angela to some) was a recent visitor to my house. Which may not seem like such a revelation but you see she lives in Nashville and I live in Los Angeles. The other interesting fact is we started our friendship more as virtual friends than actually face-to-face friends. You see we were blog friends. But I put face to blog last November at the #FoodBuzz Festival and something about that face (and that blog) just stuck with me!

Still, inviting someone you barely know from across the country to come stay at your house may seem odd. But you see I knew somehow there was a greater purpose in this mission. So I embraced the idea (and changed the sheets in the guest room) in preparation of her arrival.

Guanciale ("gwan-chi-ah-lay") is a cut of Italian cured pork. But please don’t call it bacon, unless you preface it with the term “magic”!

It is a speciality of central Italy, particularly Umbria and Lazio. While bacon and its Italian counterpart pancetta are made from pork belly, guanciale is cut from the pork jowl. It is typically used in pasta sauces because the fat in it has a different quality than that found on other parts of the pig. You will find that it melts easily into dishes as it cooks. This is why I often refer to guanciale as “magic bacon”, because as the collagen breaks down it incorporates itself into the sauce making it silky smooth and super sweet.

Because it's mostly fat, guanciale has a more seductive porkiness to it than the cured meats coming from the belly. Though cuts of bacon and pancetta are often substituted for guanciale the flavor isn't the same. Because unlike pancetta or bacon, guanciale takes its flavor not from smoke but from salt, wine, herbs and chilies.