Dear Curtis,
I sent my husband to the store for six fat ears of corn on the cob and he delivered. I read through your recipe for Grilled Corn On The Cob with Parsley and Garlic Brown Butter and it seemed easy enough. Full of motivation I proceeded to peel back the husk all the way, leaving it attached at the end. This was a little tricky and took a long time but I was still somewhat motivated to continue on with the recipe.
Twenty minutes later, I finished removing the silk and husking the corn. The husk was looking nicely arranged at the end of the cob. At this point I realized that my kitchen was a huge mess. Pieces of husk and cornsilk everywhere. Time for the corn to soak for an hour. Here is where I must ask you, what kind of object does one use to achieve this? I looked down at my six ears of fat corn with long husks hanging at the end and my mind went blank. Did I have anything big enough to hold all this? Yes, but all the way in the back of my cabinet. It will take at least 10 minutes to dig it out.
Beginning to get frustrated, I dig out everything in my cabinet looking for the pot big enough to hold the corn. Arrange the corn this way, doesn't fit. Arrange the corn another way, doesn't fit. Smashed the corn into the container, threw on the lid, and threw a heavy cast iron pan on top to weight the lid down. Whatever, I say. It is what it is.
Blood rising, I had to clean the kitchen. Have you ever tried cleaning up cornsilk? It ain't easy, Curtis. Nearing a hissy fit I threw a stick of butter in the pan and proceeded making the brown butter sauce. I can do that. Easy enough. Butter melted, ingredients mixed in, and butter added back in fridge to harden up.
Finally the corn was done soaking and the butter was ready. I must confess that I was totally over the corn by now. Who in their right mind works this hard to make a side dish? I felt like chucking the corn into the road, but I took it out to the grill. This is where the real fun began.
Husks everywhere, Curtis. Husks, everywhere. Too big for the grill, Curtis. The corn is almost impossible to turn. The husks are burning, Curtis. Why do I even have these husks on, Curtis? Do you know what burned husks do, Curtis? They turn into ash and disintegrate into one unbelievable mess. Why do you do this to me, Curtis? I thought we were friends.
I deem the corn charred and make my way back into the house. Wrestling with the brittle corn husks, I swear under my breath as I take pictures. Goodness sakes, Curtis. This corn is stressing me out. I'm starting to sweat and I hardly ever sweat, Curtis.
Frustrated beyond recognition I take a bite of the corn. It is delicious, Curtis. Almost worth all the frustration. Almost. The corn is sweet and juicy and the garlic butter is the perfect compliment to the corn. The squeeze of lemon adds just the right touch, brightening things up, and providing a fresh flavor. However, as I look down at my plate, the table, and the floor I notice burnt pieces of husk and ash. Why, Curtis? Why do we need to leave the husk on the corn? Things would be so much easier if the husk was completely removed.
Thanks for the lesson, Curtis. It's been awhile since I learned a lesson the hard way. From this point on I will never, and I do mean never, leave the husks attached when I grill corn. Then I will truly be able to appreciate the deliciousness of this corn. Summer on a plate.
Sincerely,
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