Something gets me every time I hear a kid bite into a fresh corn on the cob, the juicy kernels popping and crunching: the sound of summer, made tangible. And with the level of our two-year-old’s enthusiasm for corn on the cob, “every time” is pretty often these days.
While we do have two rows of sweet corn planted on the north side of our garden, it’s just tasseling and isn’t quite mature enough to pick yet. Benson is learning, at least somewhat, the concept of waiting and letting the plants and vegetables in the garden keep growing and growing until they’re ready — something he’s also seeing with my expanding belly and the growing baby inside. He hasn’t been too impatient with the corn, but I’m guessing that if I let him peel back some of the husk to see the little kernels hidden inside, he’d be overcome with enthusiasm and not be able to hold himself back. Unattended, he could pose as much a risk to the young corns as a band of marauding raccoons.
Because that boy loves sweet corn. We’ve come by it several times this year as we wait for ours, whether from the farmers’ market or the neighbor or friends, and without fail Benson has tucked into it with a specific toddler eagerness that makes the crunching of the kernels sound all the more glorious.
Since the cows love a good corn husk, we like to go prep the ears over by the holding pen while the cows are waiting to be milked. He might pull off a few husks, then consider his work done; he should help me get the silk off, but he hates anything with a stringy texture so much that it may be beyond what his sensory input can handle. He’ll transfer his assistance to earnestly beckoning the cows for their corny snack, unless there’s a cleaned corn cob within reach — and the munching will commence.
He has not yet mastered the art of eating his corn in any sort of organized manner, so his cobs end up mangled or very artistic, depending on how you look at it. And because I’m a pushover when it comes to him wanting to eat vegetables, frequently Benson attacks a second cob before he actually finishes the first. This makes the step of actually cooking the corn look quite humorous, or uninviting, again depending on how you look at it.
On the subject of cooking corn, I have a few thoughts. First, don’t overcook it. The whole point is that it’s fresh, so don’t kill it. Five minutes in boiling water should be more than enough, and less doesn’t hurt. Second, microwaving is actually a delicious cooking method; wrapping ears in a damp paper towel and cooking for four minutes on high essentially steams the kernels and helps them retain all their sweetness and crunch.
And third, the best way of all to maintain sweetness and crunch is to not cook at all. I have zero problems with cooked corn (I once ate I think seven ears in one sitting as a child), but also love it raw here and there. You can follow Benson’s example and tuck straight into the corn as soon as it’s husked, or you can find lots of delicious ways to use raw fresh sweet corn in various dishes. Now is the time to experiment, in this beautiful window of sweet corn summer.
Unexpected Raw Sweet Corn Salad
This delicious salad was full of pleasant surprises: in addition to the luscious pops of raw sweet corn kernels, there was a punch of brininess from the olives and salty creaminess from the cheese-infused yogurt. Together they created an unexpected harmony, one both myself and my “traditional” eater husband enjoyed. Benson didn’t like the stringy-looking bits of the dill so he just picked out the corn kernels.
Prep tips: grab homegrown sweet corn while you can! Farmers’ markets are a great resource, although you might even find some listings on Facebook. Technically Benson and I are gone this week and if you can get past Brian, you can help yourself to our patch since it’s probably ready.
• ½ cup plain yogurt
• 1-2 ounces crumbled feta cheese
• a drizzle of fruity olive oil
• 3 ears of raw sweet corn, kernels cut off the cob
• 1 small cucumber, diced
• ½ cup good quality green olives, sliced; plus a splash of brine
• a splash of red wine vinegar
• a handful of fresh dill weed, chopped (or basil, if you’re like Benson)
• a handful of fresh parsley, chopped
Stir or blend together the yogurt, feta, and olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Spread onto a serving plate.
In a bowl, toss together the remaining ingredients, and season to taste. Spoon onto yogurt and eat.
Amanda Miller lives with her husband, almost-two-years-old son, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kid(s). Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.
