OK. Let’s talk corn for a minute. I have resigned myself to the sad truth that I will never grow my own without the intervention of raccoons. And my garden is too small to keep both them and me happy. My local producer at Morning Glory Farm grows superb corn, and on Friday night I had my first ear all summer.
My mouth had been watering all day ever since I had placed my hands on the firm ears that brawny young farm hands from the fields were pouring out of huge burlap bags. It was still watering when I cleaned them before dinner and bit into one raw and realized it didn’t even have to be cooked.
The first bite was sublime. There was no reason for butter or salt. Deep in my limbic brain my raccoon ancestors were taking over. Then on Saturday I had half an ear for breakfast an ear and a half for lunch and another ear for dinner. This is high summer indeed.