Sitting on the front stoop steps, I stripped the yellow green sheaths from this morning's farm market corn. One quick yank of a handful of husks and a backward snap of the stem, and then a gentle stroking of the ear to rid it of its silk - a practice that I have been performing since I was about five years ago.
At home we would set up outside under the pear tree, or in the bay of the barn, or on the front porch. The smallest person had to help husk the endless dozens of corn for our family of seven. Sometimes we blanched them for freezing, or just boiled them for a meal.When Mother bore platters of steaming "roastin' ears" to the supper table they were the cuisine highlight of the summer. She always melted a bowl of butter that we lavishly brushed onto the corn, sprinkled with salt and dug in! The rest of the meal was negligible, but she usually had something like brown-butter potatoes and tomatoes with a sweet dressing to go with the royal corn fare. Biting those sweet kernels off the cob, was the messiest, most delicious meal ever!
Today I had four ears of corn to husk.
The times they are a-changin'!
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