Of all the soups in the American canon, chowder is one of the most divisive. Is it even a soup or more of a stew? Are clams or other seafood mandatory? Should it be white, clear or tomato-red? And where do vegetables like corn fit in?
The word “chowder” is most likely borrowed from the French chaudière, meaning cauldron, brought to Newfoundland by Breton fishermen. The earliest recipes date back to the 18th century. These were hearty stews made by layering fish, salt pork, onions and ship’s biscuits into the pot, and then letting it all simmer into something thick and satisfying.
Over the centuries, distinct regional styles developed, each with its own panache. New England favors seafood and potatoes in a pale, milky base. Manhattan swaps tomatoes for the dairy. Rhode Island makes a clear, brothy soup that highlights the saline flavor of the clams. And at some point in the 19th century, corn made its way into the pot, sometimes edging out the seafood entirely.
Since I have no roots in New England, Rhode Island nor even really Manhattan (I’m a native Brooklynite), I’ve never felt loyalty to a particular style. So, my latest take borrows from all of them. The broth is light and clear, a nod to Rhode Island. Cubed cherry tomatoes lend a colorful Manhattan flair. Corn and potatoes give it the sweetness and heft of a good vegetable chowder. And those looking for New England can stir a spoonful of heavy cream or yogurt into your bowl without having to commit the whole pot.
Cherry tomatoes add a Manhattan chowder flair.Credit…Joe Lingeman for The New York Times. Food Stylist: Barrett Washburne.
The biggest chowder outlier in my recipe is salmon, which I season with a large and untraditional dollop of horseradish. But the pink fish works well, adding its sweet flavor and velvety flesh to the mix of potatoes and corn, while the horseradish perks everything up with its inimitable zing.
If you have fresh corn, be sure to throw the naked cobs into the broth with the potatoes as they simmer; the cobs release a subtle earthiness that you won’t get from the kernels alone. But if you’re cob-less, frozen corn also works well, making this is a soup for all seasons.
And this is one of its many charms. In winter, like all soups, it’s warming and restorative. But July and August are when it really shines: a light and summery tribute to fresh corn and tomatoes at their peak.
Follow New York Times Cooking on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TikTok and Pinterest. Get regular updates from New York Times Cooking, with recipe suggestions, cooking tips and shopping advice.
About The Author
