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The Corn is ready.

THE CORN IS READY!

Well, some of it has been ready for a couple of weeks. But the corn I am waiting for - peaches and cream - is starting to show promise of ripeness.

A few days ago The Sister and I engaged in our annual Corn Fest. Although we both agree that perhaps it was a little premature given the coming ripeness that I mentioned above. This moment, then, would simply be a practice round. Sort of like the Olympic Trials, but with less sweating, less cardio, and less muscle. How fantastic would that be? An Olympic Event dedicated to corn? "For The Doubles Competition we have The Food Whore and The Sister competing for the United States."

We would kick ass, for sure. We might struggle a little against the Doubles Team from Iowa, though. Those people are ruthless corn eaters.

We spent our time slathering ear after ear in sweet cream butter, followed by generous sprinkles of black pepper and salt. Some of the corn was so sweet that it didn't need a thing - but why would anyone choose to forgo butter or salt or pepper? That's just crazy talk.

We saved the Early Peaches and Cream variety for last, having just a few ears available. So when it came time we each grabbed an ear and oh my sweet merciful Lord - the kernels just exploded in your mouth. The sweetness hasn't peaked yet. But the texture was absolutely amazing. With barely any effort at all each row of kernels just fell into my mouth. I cannot wait until next week when it has reached it's full potential - and sits simmering on the stove just for me.

There was one cob left and we eyed one another seeing who would reach out first. But something crazy and out of the blue happened. I could not believe the words that came out of my mouth at that moment, but I really had no other choice.

As I reached for the napkins to wipe my chin I looked down at the table and shook my head. "You have it", I said. And as I looked back up into her wide eyes, I had to say the 3 words I never thought I would utter in one of these moments. "I am full."

"This can't be it. It's not - over - is it?", she asked.

"I think it is."

"I... I really am."

Normally she would raise her arms in victory. But this time she reached across and patted my hand. "This is just practice. This round doesn't count. Ok? It's just practice."

This is the second year in a row for my fullness. And I think the writing is on the wall, people. I think I may be losing my edge.

Posted by Foodwhore at September 18, 2007 10:22 AM