Summer Corn…

I lived in Pittsburgh as a child and one of the things we looked forward to this time of year was Mama’s corn. Once summer arrived, a little farm stand called Mama’s sat at the top of the hill near my grandparents’ house. From the second it opened every season, it overflowed with the sweetest corn you could sink your teeth into. As soon as the public swimming pools and Dairy Queens opened their doors Memorial Day weekend, the next question on our lips was, “Is Mama’s open yet?”

I helped my grandmother shuck the ears that would grace our plates; it was a messy job, but knowing the end result propelled me through the arduous task. Mama’s corn was boiled to perfection and then eaten messily with dripping butter and salt sprinkled on every bite. When the season was through, the vacant stand would lie in wait until it was time to start all over again the following year. I remember often driving by in the off-season, staring at Mama’s wooden sign—covered in fallen leaves or dusted with snow—eager for summer to return as quickly as possible just so I could get my hands on another ear.

What I didn’t realize then is that we were eating seasonally and locally: it wasn’t a movement; it wasn’t the new thing; it was just the way. We ate what was in season and when it was gone, it was gone. Eating to the seasons made us appreciate our food more and waste less; the yearly anticipation of a certain crop made it taste all the better. When food is shipped to the US from all parts of the world, the growing season seems to never end. In some ways, it’s great to have what you want when you want it: apples, citrus, or squash in the summer, melons in the dead of winter, and asparagus in the fall. But there is something to be said about patiently awaiting those first pints of Florida strawberries in December or, in this case, the first ears of corn in June.

By August, I’ve had my fix of corn boiled like my Grandmother used to make. When I want to switch it up, one of my favorite things to make is esquites. Esquites, or Mexican street corn, is corn on the cob with an interesting twist: instead of butter and salt, it is slathered with mayonnaise and cheese. I know, it sounds odd, but—oh, man—is it good! The cheese traditionally used is cotija (co-tee’-ha) which is a salty, crumbly, Mexican cheese that adheres perfectly to the mayo-laden ears. It is topped off with a sprinkle of cayenne and a squeeze of lime. I really like the flavor of smoked paprika in lieu of, or in addition to, the cayenne. If you can’t find cotija cheese in your grocery store, feta will work just as well.

As the stifling weeks of Florida summer tick by, I am reminded that my days of eating corn are numbered. “Corn again?!”, has already been muttered more than once in my house over the past two months, but I’m ok with that—they can eat a salad. Enjoy your summer and the foods that go along with it because before you know it, school will be back in session and I’ll be counting the days until Mama’s would be open again.

PERFECTLY BOILED CORN ON THE COB
There is something about adding butter to the boiling water that adds just the right amount of flavor to the corn. You can still slather the finished product with more butter and salt, but you may find that you might not need it.

4 ears fresh corn, shucked
2 teaspoons kosher salt
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter

Fill a large stockpot 3/4-full with water; add salt. Bring water to a boil. Decrease heat to medium, add ears of corn and butter. Allow to boil, stirring occasionally, for 12-14 minutes. Remove from water and eat your favorite way.

Serves 4.

ESQUITES (MEXICAN STREET CORN)
This corn hits all of the flavors on your palate and then some: sweet, salty, bitter/sour, spicy, and umami. It’s messy, so make sure you have lots of napkins at the ready—it’s totally worth it.

4 ears fresh corn, shucked, boiled or grilled
Mayonnaise
Cotija or feta cheese
Ground smoked paprika
Cayenne pepper, optional
Lime wedges
Lots of napkins

Boil ears of corn in salted water for 12-14 minutes or grill over medium heat for 15-20 minutes, or until kernels are tender. Spread mayonnaise thinly over corn. Sprinkle cheese over the mayonnaise. Dust with paprika, cayenne—if using—and squeeze lime juice over all. Dig in!

Serves 4.