Grown by our Amish Friends, Thoroughly Enjoyed by All
Oh, how time flies. I can't believe our newest chicks are already three weeks old. And I couldn't believe it when I saw a couple dozen ears of freshly harvested sweet corn stacked next to the zucchini and yellow squash and cucumbers (I've been eating so many cucumbers!) at our local Amish produce stand the other day. It seems so early. Of course I can't believe it's the first of July either—or that our parched, sunbaked fields already look like it's the middle of August.
"CORN!" I kind of screamed. I don't think normal people get as excited about vegetables as I do. At least not in public.
"It's wormy," she warned, as I started shoving ears into a bag. Who cares! To me, worm damage at the tips is a sign that the corn is organic, and you simply cut that part off. Besides, to a chicken, the piece with the live worm still on it is the prize.
I devoured three barely cooked ears (three minutes in boiling water) for lunch, rolling them directly on a stick of butter (it's the only way to really get the butter evenly all over) and sprinkling them with lots of salt and freshly ground pepper. Then the chickens devoured the husks and my scraps—not that I left much for them.
I've been taking pictures of these chicks every few days (always while they're eating, since that's pretty much all they do, although they haven't had a pizza party yet) because I want to post a little time lapse series that shows you how quickly they grow up, but I couldn't help skipping ahead to these sweet corn photos first.
The chicks are getting into that silly, scruffy 'in-between' stage now, which in its own way is almost cuter than the baby fluff stage. Almost.
© 2010 FarmgirlFare.com, the peep-peep-PEEPing foodie farm blog where today's big plans to catch up with comments and correspondence and post my homemade bbq sauce recipe along with a great bbq book giveaway (check back this weekend!) were derailed last night by a wasp that stung my wrist just as I was finishing up chores. Ouch. Again. My hand and arm are still swollen and hot and itch like crazy, making it difficult to do pretty much anything—but at least it isn't my butt.