How sweet it is...

I don't remember much about eating corn when I was a kid growing up in New York City. The summers from when I was nine to 12 years old were spent on Peconic Bay on Eastern Long Island. In those days, the East End was mostly agricultural. They grew strawberries, potatoes and corn in the rich loam that covered the sandy Long Island base.

The farmers all irrigated. I remember seeing the rolling sprinklers shooting out long streams of water into the fields. So, the corn must have been pretty good. I can remember my father sinking his teeth into an ear and going, "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm." We called it "corn on the cob." I guess that was to distinguish it from the giblets that came in the small can with the picture of the Jolly Green Giant. I don't ever remember ever calling it "sweet corn."

My first taste of Ohio corn came in 2000, the year we moved here. I bought it at a farm stand in Xenia. There were a couple different varieties to choose from, so I asked the farmer for advice.

"Try the bi-color," he said. "I think you'll like that."

I was leery. I had never seen corn that came in two colors. I sensed a compromise.

I was back the very next day. I couldn't go on enough about how wonderful the corn had been. The farmer looked at me like I'd just dropped in from Mars. That was when I first began to suspect that Ohioans don't realize what they've got.

Needless to say, I am now a devotee of Ohio corn. If we happen to be making a trip to New York during August, I'll bring a large sack with five or six dozen ears and distribute them to those less fortunate than I, those poor folks who don't have daily access to our wonderful Ohio sweet corn. And then hurry back, before the season ends.

"I'd match this up against the best from Iowa or Kansas," I tell those New Yorkers, without ever having tried that alien produce. I just can't imagine it being any better than ours.

The downside of this, of course, is that the season only lasts a few weeks. Toward the end, I am just about corned-out and my consumption starts to trail off. And then one day, I will stop in at the Southtown Farmers Market, or drive over to the Anderson's farm stand, and find out that it's over. That's it. I have to wait another year, because nothing but sweet corn fresh off the stalk will do.

A friend brought me a half-dozen ears last night.

"It's ready..?" I almost shouted. "I can't believe it."

This is it, folks! Dig in! Let the feeding frenzy begin! Before you know it, corn season will be over. Forget about GM and NCR for a few weeks, and just remember how lucky you are Ohio. It doesn't get any better than this.