This year I only got one plate-worthy corn-on-the-cob. From ten plants this was a bit tragic, to say the least. The plug plants on delivery were too far gone… spindly and too feeble to get a grip once planted. And then the August weather was against us.
Growing, and then eating, sweetcorn is perhaps the veg-patch journey that children absolutely love from start to finish. Watching the corn grow up over their heads, counting the corn heads and watching them fatten up. Testing them to see if they’re ready, by seeing if the ‘milk’ runs clear or cloudy. Harvesting them with a satisfying twist and snap. The race to get them to the kitchen before the starch sets in. Soaking them like boats in a big bucket. Roasting them, in a hot oven or on the BBQ, for just 15 minutes, still in their husks. Then ‘the big reveal’, peeling back the steaming hot husk leaves to find rows of popping-bright juicy yellow kernels. Lots of melting butter. Hands, and elbows on table, allowed. And then the ritual of turning and munching like cavemen until all the kernels have gone.
So just the one sweetcorn this year. Tragic. But still magic.