“Do you have to peel it?” That’s what the girl said at the checkout counter when Mom was buying a few ears of fresh corn. And it’s nice that corn is in season in Paris this time of year. Not here in Portland, but there in Paris, it is fresh.
But I am in Oregon, so I called Mom (I do weekly, lately almost daily), and she was just telling me about the girl a few minutes ago. And it was good to laugh. Across any distance, there is nothing I do not like about a good laugh.
There in Paris, Mom was kind and explained to her that it is called shucking, not peeling, but yes, sweetie, you do have to remove that outer layer. And then you can prepare it various ways.
Me? I like it any way you can do it, but it is best with a kind of smoky tone to it, having been passed through the flames—while camping maybe—although microwaves (hmmm), stove tops, even ovens I suppose are suitable.
And it is worth the wait.
Show me some corn, an ear of fresh corn, picked just for me (thank you, truly), and you could even hide it for awhile. I’d wait for it. And I am no Hercules, but I am a kind of Sampson when it comes to waiting for something good. I say Sampson because if you cut my hair I’d just melt . . . but I have been cutting it myself for close to 20 years so I am careful to conserve my strength.
I am needing it too, that strength, waiting on fresh corn here in Oregon. It is not yet the season for it. But it will be, soon enough.
And I will wait for it because there is nothing else like corn on the cob.
Yes, young lady, it is quite appealing, but you don’t peel it; you gotta shuck it.
Photograph “I am never corny so I had to go through hundreds of my photos to find one that is suitable for this blog post that I told Mom I’d write, after she gave me permission. Yes, I still ask my Mom for permission.” © 2018 Timothy Waugh