Field Fresh Corn

Once mid-July comes around piles of ears of corn appear at the market stands. And for the last two weeks I’ve been waiting for it; that delicious sweetness that is plump and juicy. I don’t buy it too early, even though some vendors have it as early as the end of June. I like it sweet and tender and I find if I wait a bit, it’s perfect. I’m sure it is just as sweet when they pick it at that time, but it’s just my personal preference.

For the last two weeks, I’ve been trying to get corn on the cob home for dinner and each night something comes up – I’m exhausted, I’m nowhere near a market, The Honey would like something else. But tonight it finally happened.

We stopped by one of our favourite vendors at the Parkdale Market and picked up half a dozen ears. They looked perfect and I couldn’t wait to get them home. For dinner the lovely green was stripped away and the pale silks gingerly removed. A large pot of water was put on the stove and I waited. A watched pot never boils quickly, does it? At last it came to a boil and I smiled with anticipation. In went ¼ cup of sugar then the cobs. I put the lid back on and let it boil for a minute, then turned off the heat. I just let them sit there and cook all by themselves for 10 minutes. When I took off the lid the corn cobs were a luscious yellow.

I always make the mistake of trying to eat them too quickly, resulting in a burnt mouth so I was patient this time and waited. There is only one situation where I eat too much salt and butter, and it is with corn on the cob. The Honey and I slathered on the vegan margarine and sprinkled on the salt, and then we took a bite, then another and another. It was heaven. Often we chat during dinner, but tonight we were silent. We were too busy enjoying our delicious corn. The Honey was happy (mmmmm kept escaping from his lips) and I was too.

   

Some people don’t like eating just corn on the cob. I had a friend years ago who didn’t believe in eating it on its own; it had to have at least salad on the side. I think it had something to do with her Italian upbringing (I met other Italians who were the same – no stereotype intended). But this is the way I ate it growing up, my mom wanting to be as ‘Canadian’ as she could be and this is how people ate it in my hometown. This is also how The Honey ate it growing up in northern Ontario. So we’ll continue eating it this way. I had it roasted once while I was living overseas and it wasn’t the same. Only drenched in butter and salt for me.