gardener's corn

I'm not a great gardener. Truth be told, I'm still a beginner. This year's garden is only my third, but naivete and mistakes aren't keeping my fingernails clean—I keep planting and learning as I go. I discovered when it comes to some veggies I'm hell at raising them. I can grow a fine mess of peas, beans, salads and broccoli no problem. Other types leave me guessing...For some reason I can not grow a heathy heirloom tomato in Vermont. My peppers seem to be stuck in their adolescent stages. And my watermelons and pumpkins never seen to grow beyond softball sizes....

But even with all the failures,. I find some foods are just plain rewarding in their simplicity. Some veggies you can just dig a hole, drop in a seed, and pass the summer watching it turn into something satisfying and delicious. For example: corn.

Corn has become a nearly dirty word in modern food talk. Since it's force fed in feeding lots, pumped into fructose syrups, and filling up puppy chow bags—people don't seem to appreciate it much. I get that. I understand all it's downsizes and know how annoyed it gets Michael Pollan...but I love growing my own. It's one of those foods I seem to have a knack for. Maybe because it already grows like a weed (since technically - it is a tall grass) but even if it has nothing to do with my own skills�—I love seeing those stalks rise up taller than I am. It makes this place feel more like a farm to me. Come October I tie the brown stalks to my porch and everytime I walk by the big bushels I am amazed it started with a pile of seeds in my palm Memorial Day weekend.

Sweet corn is an honest trade. You put in a weekend of hard labor, swing that hoe, plant those kernels, and come late summer you have these delicious white cobs that sizzle on the grill or pop between your teeth dripping with butter. The taste of just-pulled-off-the-stalk sweet corn is hard to beat.