Three Weeks of Summer Perfection

This Week In Ag #175

“Sweet corn’s ready!”

Those magical words are the highlight of Midwestern summers. Growing up, we didn’t just enjoy sweet corn. We gorged it with the passion of a bull turned loose in a pen full of heifers.

Mom would cook two dozen ears per night. Dad and I would consume at least 10 each, leaving mom and my sister to scavenge for the rest. If company was over, mom would cook extra, yet guests would be left fending for themselves. Feeding frenzies would have kernels exploding. Safety glasses should have been mandated for those sitting across from you and on either side. When supper was over, I’d carry the barren ears to the feed lot, dump them over the fence, and watch the hogs stampede up and ravage the cobs like we did to the kernels.

Sweet corn grown in fertile Midwest soil is like nothing else on Earth. Kernels are tender and flavor bursts in your mouth. For three glorious weeks, it’s a culinary delight aided by salt, pepper and butter.

The common misnomer among city folks is that all the corn you see growing along roads is sweet corn. Actually, less than 1% of all corn raised in the US is directly consumed – on the cob, frozen or canned – as a vegetable. About 99% of corn is harvested as grain and used for livestock feed and ethanol, or milled for various food ingredients.

Growing sweet corn is similar to growing field corn. You usually plant it at around the same time (dad always planted his sweet corn first, he wasn’t taking any chances), at the same soil depth and in the same row spacing. You need to fertilizer it and control weeds. Since you’re aiming for optimum ear size and kernel fill, seed populations are often cut in half.

But you also must guard against masked bandits. Racoons love sweet corn as much as we do. You always know when the sweet corn is ready for picking, because a day or two before it will get attacked by racoons. Serious growers surround their fields with electric fences and/or put big dogs on patrol.

Farmers markets and roadside stands are common destinations for sweet corn. Growing up, we raised it and sold it to a local grocer. Picking it wasn’t near as fun as eating it. You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, trace across dew covered leaves carrying sacks, in fields full of bugs, in high temperatures and even higher humidity. Then you’d load it in the truck and haul it to town before the store opened.

My uncle took sweet corn to a whole different level. He started the Nichols Corn Crib, a branded product renowned throughout Knox County, Illinois. He’d pick corn and deliver it people. Now, Uncle Gary wasn’t exactly the most efficient delivery person. He loved to visit with people, so he’d often spend over an hour chatting with customers during his deliveries. The more efficient arm of his business utilized his seven kids and numerous grandkids. He set them up to sell Nichols Sweet Corn in parking lots at local churches and other community areas. My cousins, Jeff & Jenny, have successfully carried on the family tradition. They get barraged with phone calls every July, asking when it’s ready. They run out every day. This past weekend they sold over 300 dozen ears per day.

As fate would have it, my son is heading back home from his summer job in two weeks. He’ll be making a mandatory stop at my cousin’s farm.