Jersey Salsa

It is time. Sweet Jersey corn and the champion of the harvest—the Jersey tomato—have arrived. Husks are torn and silk is scraped away from the cobs as they are prepped to be submerged in boiling water or roasted on the barbecue. For just a brief moment, a tomato can be halved, salted and eaten like an apple, the juice and seeds running down our chins. 

The sight of fresh-picked corn and tomato draws me back to summer weekends at the Jersey Shore. My next-door neighbor’s parents had a house on the creek in Beach Haven West, and the gang from North Summit Avenue headed down for a weekend each summer. A gaggle of little ones, bags overflowing with beach towels and clothes, pack-and-plays for the babies, and of course, lots of food descended upon the beach house. The kids immediately headed to the dock to throw the crab traps into the water, and when a trap was pulled from the deep, brave little boys couldn’t help but stick their fingers into the cage just to have them pinched. A blow-up pool warmed in the sun as the toddlers splashed around and infants—held under their armpits by their parents—kicked their tiny feet. My sweet neighbor, Isabel brought freshly sliced cold cuts and cheese and Portuguese rolls for lunch, and we heartily indulged. The older kids surfed at the beach or took turns taking rides on the boat, and when the daytime was closing in, there were lines for the shower while towels hung over the deck railing begging to dry. As afternoon turned to night, we stepped over the kids who fell asleep on the floor, and the women sipped Mudslides while the guys grabbed for beers set on ice. 

The crab traps were emptied, and dinner preparation began. As the sun set, raw clams and oysters danced around a bowl of red cocktail sauce on a weathered table, and my neighbor, Jan set out her colorful salsa and chips. We slurped the salsa and its wonderful juice on tortilla chips always generously complimenting her for it truly was that delicious. Jan credited the cilantro from her garden for the magnificent flavor, but the fresh corn and tomato were truly the stars. 

When my son’s fifth-grade class compiled a cookbook to sell at the local farmers market to raise money for the Food Bank, we immediately thought of the salsa, and I christened it “Jersey Salsa,” a nod to the Garden State where the ingredients are cultivated. 

The salsa is wonderful with flour or corn tortilla chips, but I love it partnered with grilled fish or chicken that has been marinated in olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and salt and pepper. I must confess, I have also been known to eat it alone for it can be a meal in itself. 

And with every mouthful, I am grateful for those days at the Shore with the North Summit neighbors.

Jersey Salsa

3 ears of corn

2 cups fresh tomatoes, chopped

1 15-ounce can black beans

2 cups orange pepper, diced

3/4 cup red onion, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup scallion, chopped, green and white parts

1/2-3/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

1/2 cup canola oil

1/4 cup white balsamic vinegar

Half of a lime, juiced

2 teaspoons Kosher salt

Remove husks from corn and wrap in tinfoil and barbecue on medium heat for 3-4 minutes per side. When the cobs cool, cut the the kernels from the cob and place in a large bowl. Add tomatoes, beans, pepper, onion, minced garlic, scallions, cilantro, vinegar, lime juice, and salt and mix well. Set bowl in the refrigerator for at least two hours before serving. Can be prepared a day ahead and will stay fresh for up to three days.