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.

What's a week of corn recipes without a good old fashioned corn chowder?

Maybe it's not the sexiest recipe I have pulled out during this weeklong tribute to the sweetest girl of summer. But let's face it, corn and chowder are words that were destined to live together.

Google it and you get 544,000 matches, with Tyler Florence's version coming out on top and grandma's coming in second. Jenn from Bread + Butter rounds out the first page with her "easy" version (congrats Jenn!!).

All that googling tells ya something. It tells you people want chowder.

So to you, my people, I bring you this five hundred forty-fourth thousandth and one version. I can't quite tell you where my influences came from on this one because I have been eating corn chowder my whole life and making it almost as long. But I can tell you– though  it may never find google success,  if you make it you will have to admit the words corn and chowder were destined to live together.

I am still eating weeds, and it's got people talking. This time my weed du jour is purslane.

Purslane (Portulaca oleracea) also known as Verdolaga, Pigweed, Little Hogweed or (my favorite) Pusley, is a succulent plant that is found most commonly in Mexican, Greek, and Middle Eastern cooking. It grows rampantly in our Mediterranean climate and it is readily available at the Hollywood Farmers Market. It gets very little attention as far as I have noticed. In fact I have walked past bunches of it every Sunday for years without looking twice.

But all that changed today because of a very knowledeable young woman named Andrea. You see, I was reading Fork Fingers Chopsticks recently and Andrea did a purslane salad that convinced me it was time to try this weed myself. I am very impressionable you know, so don't jump off a cliff I just might follow you...

Of course my personality disorders probably don't interest you. You are here to learn about this weed I have been whacking on about... Well, it is a low-growing, creeping plant with small paddle-shaped green leaves and a thick reddish stem. Elizabeth Schneider describes it quite well in her book Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini:

Perky purslane has oval, juicy-slippery, medium green or yellow-green leaves (more like pads) and a mild, fresh flavor brightened by a tart finish. Wild purslane (it grows naturally in most organic gardens, so “wild” seems an exaggeration) and cultivated purslane can be quite different… At its best (usually wild), purslane has a sorrel tang and a hint of tomato; mediocre purslane (usually cultivated), can be bland and slimy but still looks cute.