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Post by brutalis on Jul 16, 2019 16:51:35 GMT -5
Fresh White is usually too tiny for eating on the cob and usually not as sweet tasting IMO. But I do love canned white corn as a nice change of taste  |
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Post by Roquefort Raider on Jul 16, 2019 17:03:13 GMT -5
It wouldn’t be August without corn on the cob. (Yes, August... Colder climate and all that). When harvest time comes, grocery stores here overflow with cobs and we don’t deny ourselves that simple and healthy pleasure! The most uncommon cooking method I ever used is as follows: back in the day, we laboratory rats used to have a bi-weekly beer session where we’d also prepare something to eat. So one time, as a culinary experiment, we shoved a 25 pound bag of corn eaves in the autoclave and sterilized them! 120 degrees Celcius, 15 pounds per square inch of pressure, for 15 minutes! I would’t go through the expense of buying an autoclave as it really didn’t make any difference compared to just boiling them, but it was delicious. Germ-free, too!!!  |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2019 17:19:49 GMT -5
Rob Allen ... What about the eternal question - white corn or yellow corn? ... I like them both equally and love white corn in soups, casseroles, salads, and whatever you liked. hondobrode ... I have tremendous respect for farmers and I worked a month in the Fall picking Apples in Wenatchee, Washington getting Apples to be used for Cider and Applesauce for a dear friend of mine. The work was back-breaking, hard, and you on it for 10-12 hours a day; everyday and seven days for a Month and after that I even rest up almost a week recovering from it. I was 25 years old and told my parents this is not an easy way to make money.
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Post by hondobrode on Jul 16, 2019 18:48:15 GMT -5
Yellow or white ?
The best is "candy corn" or "peaches and cream" - a mixture of both yellow and white on the same cob !
That was my dinner tonight.
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Post by Prince Hal on Jul 16, 2019 19:58:22 GMT -5
There was a farm in my hometown when I was a kid. In the summer, it was a big treat for us to go down to the stand on the side of the road and pick up a dozen ears of corn to eat with our hamburgers and hot dogs. Best corn ever.
Cost? A dollar... and they threw in a 13th ear.
The tomatoes were huge and juicy there, too.
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Confessor
CCF Mod Squad
Not Bucky O'Hare!
Posts: 10,201 
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Post by Confessor on Jul 16, 2019 21:30:59 GMT -5
And really, Confessor, I know you foreigners are different, but corn on pizza? That's just wrong on so many levels. As others have said, corn on a pizza -- especially a vegetarian pizza -- is delicious. Trust me. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2019 23:08:17 GMT -5
There was a farm in my hometown when I was a kid. In the summer, it was a big treat for us to go down to the stand on the side of the road and pick up a dozen ears of corn to eat with our hamburgers and hot dogs. Best corn ever. Cost? A dollar... and they threw in a 13th ear. The tomatoes were huge and juicy there, too. Man, you so ever so lucky! ... 13 ears for a dollar! |
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Post by hondobrode on Jul 17, 2019 0:38:03 GMT -5
Going rate for a baker's dozen is $ 7.
Also picked up 1# of locally grown honey and a seedless watermelon.
Totaled $ 20
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Post by Rob Allen on Jul 17, 2019 1:29:19 GMT -5
When they charge a buck an ear, that's piracy.
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Post by codystarbuck on Jul 17, 2019 1:45:36 GMT -5
I haven't had fresh since I was a kid. My dad grew up on a farm, so he had a big garden in the back yard and sweet corn was one of the centerpieces (along with the strawberry patch and the rhubarb). He'd pick a few ears for dinner and it would be a buttery mess all over our faces, from doing the typewriter routine. He grew just about everything out there, though not really carrots. Beans, peas, cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, corn, rhubarb, strawberries....
Then, we'd go visit my grandfather's farm and get all that, plus milk straight from the cow, fresh churned butter, and my grandmother's pies. You'd have my dad, me, my brother and sister, my grandparents and usually at least one or two of my cousins who lived in the same area. Three of us would be sitting on the piano bench, stuffing ourselves with real food, not processed crap from the store, loaded with high fructose corn syrup. Mornings were steaming bowls of oatmeal, toast, bacon and fresh milk and even the cats ate oatmeal.
The farmhouse had a loft, upstairs, where we slept on a real old featherbed (you had to climb up into that sucker) and we kept a flashlight nearby in case we had to hit the bathroom, in the night (downstairs, other end of the house). Thankfully, I came along after they had an indoor toilet (my brother recalls an outhouse).
My grandfather was the kindest, gentlest man, with huge strong hands, who loved to hunt and fish. He taught my older cousins how to climb young trees and bend them towards the next tree and hop across. if he had been born a hundred years before, he'd have been out in the wilderness, exploring. He was also a preacher, on Sunday; and, though I grew up to be an atheist, he was one of the few people who I really respected for living up to what he preached. Great storyteller and a pretty good fiddle player. My dad and his two brothers grew up to be like him: strong, quiet men, who acted their beliefs.
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