Corn stalks, some just inches tall, break New England soil starting late June. They know nothing of our current pandemic. Planted mere inches apart, twelve stalks of corn crowd into 6 square feet.⁠ 🌽⁠
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With an eater's anticipation, I wait for the stalks to convert the intensifying summer sun into sweet kernels for unsurpassable corn. I like eating it raw, the kernels shaved off the cob, or the whole cob boiled only for a minute, until sun-yellow. Here, it is grilled briefly over a live flame, charring enough to become a little chewy. That’s when the salt sticks best. ☀️⁠