It’s summer in Minnesota, and that can mean many things to many people. For me, it’s not really summer until the road side stands pop up offering cucumbers, melons, potatoes and, of course, sweet corn. Now, it can’t be just any kind of sweet corn. You see, I grew up spoiled. My Uncle Duane had a farm in Southern Minnesota where he raised beef cattle, soybeans and sweet corn, and when the corn was ripe, he’d call my dad and we’d grab a stack of paper bags, head out to the farm and load up. Most of the corn would end up frozen to be eaten over the winter, but we would always reserve a few dozen to be eaten fresh, usually within hours of being picked. I have to say that there is nothing sweeter than a fresh ear of sweet corn piping hot and eaten at a picnic table.
