Good afternoon from the most gorgeous fall weather this lady has ever experienced. I’m thrilled so many of you stayed inside and made wings this weekend, whether it was because you were so excited about the recipe or because it rained so much where you live. The rain we got in New York was particular: a melancholy fall-ish, pre-winter rain (versus a hopeful pre-spring rain) that reminds you of the fact that you’re about to be inside for many months (and when you are outside, well, you’re not going to like it very much). It felt especially cruel.
To think: Just a few days ago I was sitting in the sun outside, eating tomatoes like apples, wondering what I was going to do with all the zucchini my friend brought me—a “gift” from his garden. I ordered shorts for Charlie because he had outgrown all of his, and surely we still had enough weeks of shorts weather. I was thinking, “I should really try to get to the beach on a weekday before the season ends.”
Well, just like the 2026 Mets, the season has ended and there will be no post-season. That’s right, baby, we live in New York, where things turn on a dime, ready or not, and the weather is often bad, and that’s okay, because that’s the price we pay for being able to SEE A BROADWAY SHOW or EAT A SLICE or GO TO THE MET or WAIT IN LINE FOR YOGURT whenever we want. But, of course, incessant rain and an inconvenient chill doesn’t stop the zucchini from continuing to be painfully available or the shorts from being cute. So, we find a way. We wear shorts with sweatshirts and remember that this is actually the best outfit of all, even if we otherwise don’t look anything like Princess Diana. We make soup with post-peak summer produce and remember that this is actually the best soup of all, even if our hearts have not really let go of all the things we thought we’d do this summer.
Below you’ll find a recipe for a summer soup that makes use of all the best stuff right now, namely corn and zucchini. It’s not my only summer soup—I really think it might be the best genre of soup—but it is among the few vegetarian ones. (That said, I do like to sometimes poach chicken in the broth as it simmers—boneless, skinless thighs if I’m short on time; bone-in, skin-on legs or thighs if I have the patience).
While I feel like people are always fighting the naturally soft, tender texture of zucchini, I like to find ways to embrace it, and this soup makes it easy. The pieces simmer alongside chewy kernels of corn and hominy until they’re full of salty broth, almost melting, slowly enriching the broth. It is a celebration of two seasons simultaneously, summer bursting under a raincloud, shorts and a sweatshirt.
In the spirit of trying to be okay with all this rain, I got this fabulous raincoat from Sézane—a one-size-fits-all sort of cape-like number made with waterproof fabric. It’s a little Grimm’s Fairy Tales heroine, and you know what: I like that. Sézane is opening their first permanent location on the Upper East Side, which is great because trying things on in person is a lost art. In addition to their fall 2026 collection, they’ll also have pieces from Petit Sézane (where Charlie’s favorite chore coat is from). Their most recent collection took a bit of a creative turn, which caused a LOT of discourse. Personally, I love it, especially the pants, which I know will get a lot of play from me this year because, after 41 years on earth, I have accepted my destiny as a Loose Pants Ambassador (these pants are great, I did need to size up from my usual).
My friend Julia came over for dinner last night, and when I told her I was making polenta, she remarked: “I have never had polenta I enjoyed.” I’m wondering what kind of polenta Julia has been subjected to in her sweet little life that would elicit this sort of reply?? It should be creamy, salty, buttery, spoonable but not runny, thick but not tacky and always finished with lots of pepper. Here’s how I make mine, and I guess this is just a suggestion to make polenta soon because it’s great and I hate the idea of anyone having a subpar experience with this very good starch.
I love this album from Bella White. In keeping with today’s theme, it’s sort of a cusp-season album, both wistful and peppy, just how I like it.
It’s been too long since I’ve found myself in Manhattan having not eaten dinner at 10:15 p.m. wondering: Where, oh where, should I eat? Well, did you know that Via Carota technically closes at 11 p.m. and, if you waltz in at 10:15 p.m., chances are you’ll be able to sidle up to the bar and order two Cynar spritzes, one salad and two bowls of pasta which you can enjoy with a friend you desperately need to catch up with? I recommend it.
With so few ingredients, this soup could easily become very boring very quickly, but…it doesn’t. While summer vegetables are meant to be added in as you see fit (lots of options below), the majority of the flavor and texture in this soup comes from a can in your pantry.
Hominy (also known as "pozole," famously used in the classic Mexican soup that’s called…pozole) gives this soup an irreplaceable, pleasantly bouncy, chewy texture and a toasty corn-chip flavor. While it traditionally anchors meat-forward dishes and stews (like…pozole), canned hominy is good to have around for quick, brothy soups, especially of the vegetarian sort. I love cooking it from dried (which I WILL soak, as it takes much longer to cook than beans), but for anyone looking to explore hominy as an ingredient, the already-cooked kernels in a can are a great (and easy) introduction.
As for the vegetables, you can throw in a variety of whatever bounty you find yourself with. That said, if you pick two, go with barely cooked corn (which can be fresh or, honestly, frozen) for tenderness and a delicate sweetness and lots of zucchini, cut into large chunks to sort of braise and soften in the broth (making this my all-time favorite way to use up and eat "how can there be so much" zucchini).
DO AHEAD: This soup makes fantastic leftovers, kept in the fridge for up to 3 days (without cilantro or lime) or frozen several months ahead.