Milking Corn For All It’s Worth

The Profussor is on vacation. With nothing more than his family, his wits, a sack of meat from Chester’s, and a seven pound loaf of rye bread.

Okay. There are probably a few more things involved in this vacation. There’s a house by a lake. A couple of families we have known for many many years. Oh, and there is also a mouse who was totally not invited, but seems to be sticking around despite our attempts of spreading poison everywhere.

On an average day there are twelve people in this rental house. This is the fourth year we’ve done something similar, so some of the required tasks and division of labor have become routine.

Cooking for twelve on a daily basis is no small feat. But one of the things I love about coming together with this group every year is that you get to learn other people’s recipes. Last night we had Raf come over with his family, and they added another recipe to the regimen.

It all started with Jenny’s corn salad. She made this last year, and maybe the year before that, and it’s a revelation every time. It’s so light, bright, and summery that I just want to soak up every last bit of liquid in the bowl.

Like most corn salads, it involves cutting the corn off the cobs. And when she was done, I saw her carrying over the cobs to the trash.

Egads! This called for an intervention. There were 12 corn cobs that had been shucked, blanched, shocked, and shaved. A lot of labor had already gone into making this produce delicious.

So I wanted to extract every last tender morsel.

With the back of a heavy knife, I scraped all the cobs and literally squeezed out about two cups of tender, sweet, and milky corn. Sure, there were no full kernels on my plate, but that didn’t mean that the product of my few minutes of effort wasn’t super delicious.

Part of me wanted to hand this over to Jenny to mix into her salad. However, I also didn’t want to mess around with her recipe or the delicate balance of the dish. Instead, I handed this precious bounty over to Raf, and he treated it to the Thomas Keller creamed corn treatment.

I’ve had this before in the past, but I think this was the first time i’ve seen it done up close. Man, that’s easy.

Melt butter.
Toss in corn.
Squeeze in lime juice.
Cook down.
Add cream, cayenne, and lime zest.
Cook down.
Finish with more cream, salt, and top with chives, if you have any.

Summer corn, when I come back home, I’m coming for you. Speaking of things I’m coming for, I’m also coming for this goddam mouse in the vacation house. There are some creatures with which I can live in harmony. But this mouse has to die.