The Great Cornholio

So go ahead and add corn on the cob to the list of foods I've recently discovered that I, in fact, love.

I know, I know. "Corn on the cob? It's delicious. Everybody knows that."

Well, sorry. I didn't know that. At least not until I visited friends in New Orleans a few years ago and sampled some of that city's sumptuous cuisine (alligator cheesecake, anyone?). I realized then that corn on the cob was actually edible and even rose to the level of amazing when butter, salt and pepper were added.

But I still don't like corn if it's been "pulled" or de-cob-ified or whatever you call it when it's no longer on the cob. And creamed corn? No way in hell.

I'm a picky eater and always have been. I'm a die-hard carnivore and wouldn't last five minutes on the "Lost" island without John Locke hunting boars for me or Jin catching his fish.

I don't eat many green foods other than Jell-O or Gummy Bears, and I don't trust food that comes from the dirt. It just seems ... I don't know ... dirty.

And for me, it's a consistency issue. If it's lumpy or squishy, I'm not liable to like it.

I have no sympathy for cows or chickens, but I'll allow that I find myself in something of a moral quandary when it comes to little baby piglets. From "Charlotte's Web" to "Babe," they're just so damn cute and smart. And yet, so very, very tasty.

But I've always known that. What I didn't know is that corn on the cob totally rules. And there's a growing list of foods--very popular and, some might say, essential foods--that my palate is only just learning about:

-- Grits. Yep. I grew up south of the Mason-Dixon, but I only just started liking grits--no, scratch that, ADORING them--a few years ago at a friend's wedding, where they were mixed with shrimp. Holy shit that's good. Grits might be the single best thing the South has ever done for this nation.

-- Eggs. That's right. All through my childhood, I hated them. Hated them, I say. That started to change near the end of college and the beginning of my first real job. I started getting late-night breakfast biscuits at Chick-Fil-A and decided I would "tolerate" eggs with my sausage. And then after college when I moved in with the band, sometimes eggs, bologna and Budweiser were the only damn things to be found in our fridge. And I've loved all of them ever since.

-- Rice. As a youngster, the sight of rice on my plate made me want to heave. Particularly white rice. But then during high school I went to Kyoto's Japanese Steakhouse one night and had cooked rice with marinade or oil or sauce or whatever it is those amazing and entertaining chefs use. I've never looked back.

And so I salute you, corn on the cob. I've been missing out on you for so long, but fear not. I totally plan on making up for lost time. And who knows, Mr. Spinach? You might be next.

But I doubt it.

Original MySpace post: 4/28/2007

Leave a comment

Add comment