08/28/2026
Sweet corn season has finally rolled back around, and I’ll admit I’ve been waiting on it.
There’s something about spotting a hand-painted SWEET CORN sign along the road that makes supper feel decided before you even get home. A dozen ears in a paper sack, still fresh enough to make a mess when you shuck them, and suddenly nobody’s asking what else is for dinner.
By the time the water’s hot, the butter’s soft, and the salt shaker hits the table, there’s really not much left to discuss. I roll mine through the butter pretty generously, give it a good shake of salt, and usually go back for a little more of both. Somebody will eventually look over and ask if I think that’s enough.
Probably.
But corn season doesn’t last long enough to spend much time being stingy.
Before long there’s a pile of empty cobs on the plate, butter on somebody’s fingers, and at least one kernel stuck where it has no business being. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I’m reminded why I look forward to this meal every year.
Maybe part of enjoying what’s in season is knowing better than to ask it to stay.
Some things are good because they come, stay awhile, and then make room for what’s next. That doesn’t make them less worth enjoying. If anything, it gives us a little more reason to pay attention while they’re here.
So while the corn’s good, I reckon I’ll have another ear.
And somebody pass the butter.
Albert Barnwright, Corn Butterer, Salt Shaker
