Not Just a Kernel of Truth

I picked four little ears of silver queen corn from my garden and cooked them for dinner. The kernels were small, but tender and sweet, and based on our satisfaction with them, I already consider the corn-growing enterprise a win this year. 

I don’t grow corn every year; and I can’t say that it’s ever been a very successful crop in our garden. I’ve done three-sisters planting a few years, and while the beans and squash did pretty well, the corn has always been a little disappointing: weak stalks that tumbled in the wind, ears too small or too buggy. 

I did harvest a half dozen promising ears four years ago. It was near the end of July, and we were driving out to stay with my mom in Minnesota, so I packed the corn in a cooler for the 2 day drive. When we arrived, I offered to make dinner and eagerly put corn on the menu. 

Unfortunately, the kernels on those ears were starchy and tough. I did not consider the dish a total loss, though, since I had cut the corn off the cob and sautéed it with fresh lime beans for summer succotash. When our meal was over, I asked my mom what she thought. “Did you like the corn?” I said.

She looked a little stricken at the question, and I could almost see the wheels turning behind her widened eyes before she gave up trying to find a tactful reply. “No!” She shook her head.

I laughed. “Thanks for your honesty, Ma!”