Our neighbor, who plants the cornfield that surrounds our home, stopped by the other day to bring us a huge sack of "sweet corn". ( In the country, a neighbor is someone who lives within 5 miles of your home, not someone with whom you can shake hands if you stick your arm out of your bedroom window as was the case at our previous residence.) This nuance was one of the first things I learned upon moving to the country ten years ago.
Something I haven't yet learned is exactly what makes "sweet corn" sweet. Sweet as opposed to what.....sour? Sweet to me is a hot fudge sundae or a cappuccino bonbon, not an ear of corn. I do know that "feed corn" means it's meant to feed farm critters and not my family, and I've heard of Silver Queen corn, too, but I still don't know exactly what is meant by "sweet corn". Being too embarrassed to ask, I simply thanked Mr. Latta, our generous farming neighbor, and placed the sack on my front porch.
Within minutes, my four- year- old son Coleman came running down our rock drive with his dad following close behind. They had been cutting down a dead tree, and he had seen Mr. Latta leaving in his truck. "What's in the bag?" Cole wanted to know as he opened the top of the sack, that was almost as tall as he was, to peer inside. I showed him all the ears of corn I was preparing to tear into as I placed the kitchen trashcan on the front porch in order to catch the husks and silks. Now even though I have lived in the country for ten years now, I must say I still dread finding a worm in any ear of corn I'm holding and eventually planning to eat. The dark, mushy, partly-eaten kernels at the end of the ear are a sure sign that a worm-sighting is imminent. These worms aren't petite, but are instead quite large and fleshy. I halfway squinted my eyes and turned my head away as I instructed Cole in how to pull back the husks, knowing that I was likely going to uncover more than just corn kernels.
When my husband Scott joined us on the porch to assist with the task at hand, we quickly developed quite a rhythm, making fast progress. I would hand him any ear of corn whose end needed to be broken off due to wormy inhabitants, and he would hand me the ears from which he had just removed the husks because he deplores the tedious task of attempting to remove the tiny silky hairs that are tightly wedged between the rows of corn kernels. (Yes, he has the patience to sit alone in the freezing cold on a 12" x12" platform high in a tree until his butt is numb just hoping to spot a deer, but not the patience to pull the silks from an ear of corn. Go figure???) Coleman was still working quietly on his first ear of corn, removing just one leafy husk at a time. As he finished, I saw him jump slightly out of the corner of my eye. Correctly thinking he had probably been a bit startled when he spotted a worm, I told him I would finish the task for him. I was a little surprised at his quick response. "No way , mom," he said. "This is fun. I hope I have a worm in my next one."
For the next half hour, Cole would carefully select an ear of corn from the sack as one might choose a straw in a game of chance. That arduous task would then either be followed by a sigh of disappointment or a squeal of joy, depending on whether or not the selected ear included the grand prize of a wormy resident. For the duration of our work, my son was hoping for a worm even more than I was hoping against one. He would often make a fist and pull his elbow quickly to his side with a manly "YES!," gesturing as he's seen his older brothers do, as if spotting a worm in an ear of corn were quite the acheivement and something about which one could feel quite proud.
An hour later, as we were sitting at the dinner table and Coleman was chomping on a piece of corn, he excitedly confided in his 14-year old brother. "Garrett," he said, nodding his head toward the ear of corn he was holding with both hands."This is my first one."
"Your first what?" Garrett asked.
"The first ear of corn I ever shucked," Cole answered, as if he'd conquered a real growing up milestone. "And I think this one even had a worm in it," he concluded.
"Your first what?" Garrett asked.
"The first ear of corn I ever shucked," Cole answered, as if he'd conquered a real growing up milestone. "And I think this one even had a worm in it," he concluded.
"Sweet corn" tip-
