Well, I got my comeuppance tonight. I’m a corn snob. I think – or thought – the only corn worth worrying over was Silver Queen, the Cadillac of corn. It is not like that starchy yellow corn from the North. Its kernals are pure white, and the sweet, clean taste is without compare. That’s what I thought. Until tonight.
Austin, one of Noah’s friends who is wise beyond his teenage years and a rising freshman at the University of Kentucky, knocked on the front door the other day with a paper grocery bag in his hand. Inside were ears of corn his father grows in Kentucky. He wanted to give me some. I didn’t have the heart to ask, “Is it Silver Queen?” I just took six ears and thanked him. Immediately after he left, I pulled a few corn shucks back and discovered, unfortunately, that the corn was bright yellow. Oh, dear.
Austin came over the next night for supper, and asked if I’d cooked the corn yet. Oh, dear. I’d put the offending ears in the refrigerator (bad, I know, but the cats try to eat the corn shucks and throw up if I leave corn on the counter).
So tonight, I was grilling a steak and remembered the lonely corn dwelling in the vegetable bin. I pulled it out, shucked it and cut the kernals off the cob. I tasted one. Unbelievable. Even raw, it was the sweetest, most succulent, corn I’d ever eaten. Nothing like the yellow corn in the supermarket or even the farmer’s market. It was remarkable.
The only thing I did to that corn was throw it in a skillet, add a little butter, salt and pepper, and saute it for just a few minutes. Simple is best when the ingredients are perfect.
I immediately called Austin. I need more of that corn. A lot more. I may have to move to Kentucky.