Over the past year I've become more and more intolerant of overcooked corn on the cob. It's getting really bad--to the point where I am filled with a murderous, eye-piercing rage when the stuff comes near me. Why oh why must they ruin such a tasty treat by overboiling it? Corn should be kind of crunchy when you bite into it. It should be sweet and flavorful and come off the cob cleanly--it should not be a soft and pulpy mass that sticks in your teeth. It makes me weep, it does. When K and I were in Houston we went to a ribs place and filled up with a bunch of beautiful sides--including a huge ear of corn that had been soaking in warm water all evening. Inedible. It ruined my whole day. I am serious here. It still makes me angry thinking about it.
The key is not overcooking it. As when baking cookies, one must remove them from the fire BEFORE they are done. If one pulls the cookies out of the oven WHEN they are done, then they'll continue to cook and harden into hockey pucks on the cooling rack. Do not wait until the cookies are done before pulling them out. Please do not wait. Pull them out a little early. Please, I beg of you.
Sunday night I was at a party and was startled to be served some good corn on the cob. That I was so startled and exuberant about it was startling in itself, so today we shall blog about it. Granted, they tried to offer me those prissy corn holders to jab into the ends of my ear--which was nearly a dealbreaker--but I declined politely and barehanded the corn into my face where it belongs. What kind of wimpy suburbanite uses corn holders, anyway? I mean, really.
By the way, I'm trying to start a movement to make corn a countable noun. Granted, it's a bad habit I got into while living in Japan, but it is not without merit.
How many corns will you serve your family tonight?
4 comments:
Another bonus of growing up on a farm:
step 1) you put water and salt in a big pan and turn on the heat;
step 2) you pick the corn;
step 3) you husk the corn;
step 4) you throw the corn in the now boiling water for just enough time to clean up the mess made by the husking.
I haven't had a good ear of corn since my mom sold the farm.
I loved your Grampa's corn also. And I like it slightly undercooked. I also like it ripe, whereas Karma likes it young. I guess that's the difference between a city boy and a farm girl. She never ever uses corn holders either because, as you say, they are for wimps!
Call me a wimp if you like, but I like my corn hot and if I don't use corn holders, my fingers will be scorched or else the corn will be too cool. I cannot enjoy hot, undercooked, ripe corn when my fingers are burning!
Yes! The key is to pick the corn while the water boils. Ah, Iowa. It's the one thing I miss. (oh the other thing is tomatoes. free tomatoes!!)
Also, you can turn the water off and throw the corn in and just let it sit (it's like the cookies).
Nice. . . brings me back to my childhood. Gramma and Grampa fine dined on corn, fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, green beans, new potatoes and coleslaw. Summer grub on the farm.
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