It's not summer until...

...the corn is ready.

I live in the Cornhusker State, so you know it was only a matter of time before this blog arrived....

I present to you:

"Putting Up Sweet Corn at Mom's House"

No, I did not invent the terminology "putting up;" it's just what we call it - that time of year when in kitchens all over Nebraska, farm wives with visions of tasting sweet summertime in the dead of winter are slaving away in an effort to preserve our native, succulent veggie. And let me tell you, there is nothing quite like having home-grown corn-on-the-cob when it's five degrees below zero outside.

But this luxury comes with a price: for approximately two weeks every summer, the corn is at its peak of ripeness, and when it's ready, Dad announces this fact and starts bringing it in the house in bundles; Mom doesn't have much choice but to roll up her sleeves, break out the electric knife, and bury her kitchen in yellow kernels. (Since moving back after college, I am often called in for back-up - and I enjoy still getting to have a hand in the tradition.)

**I'm going to interrupt this train of thought just for a moment, as I realize I may need to clarify something: The vast cornfields one pictures when thinking of rural Nebraska are not actually full of the sweet corn that is two-handedly devoured by people each year - it's "field" corn, which means it is used for mass food production (think corn chips, corn tortillas, etc) and cow feed; it's what farmers sell to make their money. You can eat it, but it's nothing like its savory cousin - the stuff you have probably seen being sold alongside the road and at farmer's markets. We grow our sweet corn in small patches on the edges of the big fields - some people just put a few rows in their garden. I've had people ask me about that before, so I want to be sure we are all on the same page, here.**

Now, there is a process, a science, to putting up sweet corn. It begins with the actual harvest, done by walking the rows, hand-picking just firm-enough ears and hauling them back to the farm for husking. (Our horses were always a part of the tradition, too - we'd sit on tailgates, tossing the husks and cob-ends over the fence - a tasty snack! Sadly, this was the first year my parents had no horses waiting for the special treat.)

Post-husking, the ears are transported to the house for the beginning of the kitchen activities:

Step 1: Scrubbing. This ensures removal of any remaining husks or creepy crawlies - corn earworms are a common pest. Once squeaky clean, the ears are stacked in preparation for step #2.

Step 2: Blanching. This involves boiling the corn for about five or six minutes, then immediately submersing it in cold water to stop the cooking process. The goal here is to destroy the enzymes that cause food spoilage - an important step when you are trying to preserve food for months to come!

Step 3: Cutting. Once sufficiently chilled, the corn is built into another stack on towels beside the sink for drying.....

At this point in the operation, you've got to decide how much corn will be frozen off-the-cob, and how much will go in the freezer ear-and-all (which makes for a decidedly more summer-ish experience during that wintertime eating!)

Once the whole ears are divided out and put into their own bags, it's to the chopping block for the rest!

Step 4: Bagging. Not a technical term, but that's basically all that's happening here: scoop, measure, dump into ziploc bag. Close it up, load onto a tray and transport one final time - to the deep freeze.

(My mom also makes some of the cut corn into a savory mixture that's tough to beat: butter, sugar, cream...maybe a few other ingredients. At any rate, it has its own reputation: a family friend in Colorado who takes some home with her every year has grandchildren who affectionately call this treat "Darrel and Deb Corn" - an ode to my parents.)

Step 5: Upon having a craving for sweet goodness and 90-degree memories, remove from deep freeze, heat and escape the winter blues. Mmm.

Thanks for the great pics, Mom!