My Mother’s Potato-Corn Chowder

February 9, 2008



If you’re reading this page, you’ve landed on the old site.  Please visit the new location by clicking here–and don’t forget to update your readers and blogrolls!

As always, thanks for reading.  I look forward to seeing you at the shiny new Diet, Dessert and Dogs!

“Um, Mum, we are coming with you, aren’t we? Because (and sorry to have to tell you this), we actually have more fans than you do on this blog.”]

When I first read about the blog event called No Croutons Required, hosted by Lisa of Lisa’s Kitchen and Holler of Tinned Tomatoes, my first thought was, “Yes! I’d love to contribute my favorite soup recipe!” 

Then, quick on the heels of that thought was this one: “Hmmn.  No, maybe not.  Can’t use that one; too bland. Too boring.  Too commonplace. Too–I don’t know–too beige.” 

And yet, I love that soup.  It’s easy to make, the ingredients are staples we always have on hand, and it’s never let me down. It conjures warming memories of my childhood. In wintertime, it’s often the basis for a hearty, simple dinner in our house.  And it’s delicious!  

And that’s how I realized that yes, sometimes, beige is exactly what you want. 

You know what I mean.  Case in point:  we recently moved into this relatively new house.  The previous tenants had taken it upon themselves to paint every room according to their own eccentric tastes.  Living room:  mustard yellow, tomato red and rust.  Kitchen:  mint green and dusty rose.  Bedroom (I kid you not): DEEP PURPLE and MUSTARD YELLOW.  (Purple!  And yellow!)  Bathroom:  baby blue.  And so on, and so on. . .

Well, before we moved in, we had to have the whole thing freshly painted in a nice, neutral, beige-like color.  And while part of our choice was really just consideration for the next tenants and what they might like, that wasn’t the only reason we picked beige.  Beige is familiar. Beige is inobtrusive.  Beige is unoffensive.  And it goes with everything (unlike paisley, which, apparently, goes with nothing).

There are times in life when you could just use a little beige. 

When, for example, you finally break it off with that philandering Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants), and now you desire a nice, standard-issue, plaid-shirt-Levis-jeans kinda guy.  Or when you’ve already contorted your mind watching Memento, Twelve Monkeys, Adaptation, or Dogville, and now you just want simple and easy, like On the Road to Morocco or Pretty Woman (yes, I realize that last one stars Julia Roberts, but she wasn’t quite so Julia Roberts back then, so I can live with it). Or when you’ve spent a romantic evening lingering over a seven course tasting menu of exotic, geometrically spectacular dishes and a magnum of Veuve Cliquot, and now you just crave a long, cool, soothing glass of plain vanilla. 

Or this, perhaps most of all: when you’re feeling desolate because winter has just gone on far too long with its relentless snowstorms and hours of shoveling, and what you yearn for more than anything is to seek refuge inside, peel off those sodden mitts and pants, curl up with a hot bowl of potato soup, and slurp.

This is the soup my mother made regularly when we were kids.  Unlike my dad’s soup (he was the Soup Master in the house), my mother’s potato and corn concoction was a conventional recipe without bells and whistles.  I’d never tire of watching as she peeled the potatoes, their spiraling, freckled skins falling silently on a sheet of paper towelling by the sink.  After she chopped the flesh into small cubes, she’d ease them by handfuls into the pot of simmering broth. Prep time was usually fairly hasty, as my mother had other things to attend to (such as watching her soap opera) while the soup bubbled gently on the stove. She’d return to the kitchen once or twice at commericals to stir the contents of the pot, but for the most part, the soup took care of itself.

Even though it isn’t fancy or flashy, this soup was a favorite in our house. Though unadorned with dumplings, noodles, or even a dollop of cream, don’t let this soup’s unassuming appearance fool you; this still broth runs deep. Under the basic plaid shirt and Levis exterior you’ll find a sensitive stock that’s more alluring than you might expect. It offers a serious nutritional contribution of potassium and other minerals (potaotes), beta carotene (carrots), soluble fibre and anti-diabetes qualities (corn and barley), all bathed in a reliable, stable, standup broth that would never break your heart. 

Oh, and it’s unabashedly beige.

My Mother’s Potato-Corn Chowder



No dissembling here; this soup is just what it appears to be–hot, milky, nourishing, and quintessentially comforting.  Potatoes and corn and carrots and celery cooperate beautifully to create a classically delicious chowder. This recipe was my mother’s specialty, and like her, exudes an understated charm.  



12 Responses to “My Mother’s Potato-Corn Chowder”

  1. Deb Schiff Says:

    Wow! That looks incredible. I must try this one. Yum, Ricki!

  2. Lisa Says:

    Nice submission Ricki! Thanks for participating.

  3. Ricki Says:


    Thanks! It actually tastes more lively than it looks. . . 🙂


    Thanks so much. Looking forward to seeing what all the other soup-makers are up to as well.

  4. Monika K Says:

    Perfect winter comfort food – would you believe I just bought the ingredients to make chowder? One of my girlfriends has to get surgery soon and corn chowder seemed like the best medicine for a comforting and speedy recovery.

    This chowder sounds like a contest winner to me!

  5. Johanna Says:

    I can’t say I am a big fan of beige but I understand what you mean – we had dark blue walls in our place when we moved and painted them cream! But sometimes I think maybe the purple bathroom I grew up with wasn’t such a bad thing!

    The chowder does sound comforting – I have grown to love barley in soups – and it always tastes better if it brings back fond memories!

  6. Ricki Says:


    Thanks for your comment and for stopping by! I’d say that chowder is definitely the perfect post-surgery food (hope your friend’s isn’t too serious). Your friend is lucky to have someone like you to cook it up for her!


    Purple is fine by me, in the right context (I certainly didn’t mean to impugn those who like mustard and purple–just not my taste in a bedroom). Because we’re renting here, we had to go with something neutral. I like the term “cream” better, I think, but somehow it didn’t fit with the other beiges in the post.

    I, too, love barley, an underrated grain, if you ask me. Must find more recipes with it to write about!

  7. kathryn Says:

    I think when it comes to soup – hearty and warming is much more important than glamour and sparkle. My favourite winter soup is lentil – which is just brown, not even beige. But boy do I crave it when the weather’s cold.

    Lovely chowder recipe. I’m a recent convert to chowder – made my first one last year. I like your use of barley and dried dill. I’m adding this to my list of things to make when the weather cools down!

  8. Astra Libris Says:

    Your soup is gorgeous! I think it’s subtle colors and plentiful textures are beautiful! It sounds positively delicious, too – I can’t wait to try it!

  9. Ricki Says:


    Brown lentil soup sounds just right to me about now. As your weather cools, ours heats up, so it will be nice to hear about it again in the summer!

    Astra Libris,

    Thanks so much for your comment, and welcome to the blog! Glad you like the recipe. Do let me know if you try it out!

  10. LisaRene Says:

    My husbands favorite type of soup. Your recipe looks like it has a wonderful texture.

  11. Ricki Says:


    Thanks so much for your comment, and welcome to the blog! The soup is pretty chunky–I tend to prefer them that way. Nice that your hubby already likes it!

  12. u dont need 2 know Says:

    this soup seems like a great comforting soup. i shalln’t forget 2 buy sum barley to make it. i shall try it tonight.

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