The CSA: Week 11
At one point in my life, I had gotten over corn.
It was like the dark ages, a corn-free zone. It wasn’t that I didn’t eat it – I would, if given no other option, but sometime during my senior year of high school I just kind of seeing it as a viable choice. It wasn’t a conscious decision, I don’t think – it was just an organic result of a decade’s worth of cafeteria corn. Loose kernels, floating in corn-juice, with little yellow specks clinging to the spoon as you pulled it out of the serving line. Ugh.
And on the cob, things weren’t better. I never made an effort to purchase corn on the cob, would pass it up in buffet line, would forgo it’s messiness for something safer, like potato salad or another hamburger bun.
What makes this corn absence even more surprising is that I was a vegetarian, making corn even more important during any sort of already meat-infested meal. But aside from having corn used in a recipe, I was never crazy about it. I was non-plussed. Corn was not a part of my life.
So why am I so excited about it now?
Maybe weeks of beets and cabbage and kohlrabi have left me shell-shocked, longing for something familiar. But when I grabbed our green bag of farm-fresh groceries and I saw those tufts of corn silk peeking out the top of the bag, nestled in between a sole green pepper and bunch of carrots, I got excited. Like, really excited. So excited that I felt the need to send a text message to Kerrie, that moment, proclaiming the good news.
Now, three ears of corn sit in our fridge, preparing themselves for a Friday night grilled salmon feast. I spent ages not caring about corn, and though it might seem silly to say, I’m glad it’s back in my life.
Welcome back, corn. Welcome back.
(The weekly haul, of course)