Hello everybody. We had fresh corn-on-the-cob tonight and I could not help but remember the good old days when we would all get together at Mom and Dad's house to shuck corn. I know all my nieces and my one lone nephew will remember those days. It usually was around the 4th of July and one particular time it actually was on the 4th.
As soon as the first car drove down the drive, dad would be raring to go. It didn't matter whether all of us were there or not, he was headed to the field. He'd take the old pickup, not the new one. Remember that kids. That old dirty thing that was only used in the field. Remember we could pile in that one with mud caked to our knees because there was already an inch of dirt on the mats. We would pile in the back with whatever buckets we could find around the place, throw on our long sleeved shirts (itchy), and head to the field. Remember how the corn was wet with early morning dew and remember how wet our jeans and shirts were by the time we got back to the house? We'd start at one end and each take a row and start breaking the ears from the stalk. It was nasty, dirty work, but we knew what golden bits of goodness awaited us. When our buckets were full, we'd dump the corn in the back of the pickup and head back to the row to get more until we had gotten it all.
Daddy would back the pickup under the tree next to the fence in the back yard. We were as close to the cow lot as we could get so we could throw the shucks over the fence for the cows, but we were close enough to the house to easily walk back and forth. The adults would whack off the end and hand them to you kids so you could shuck, too. We just couldn't trust you with a butcher knife when you were little, but you sure wanted to participate. Can we trust you with a knife these days?
Once we got a pan full, mom would head to the house to start heating the water and usually one of us girls went with her and take the littlest grandchild, usually one in arms. Mom would rinse the corn out under the faucet just off the porch before she headed inside with the corn. When the water was hot enough, she'd blanch them. In other words, put them in hot water until they brightened just a little bit. Then quickly she'd take them out and plunge them in ice cold water to stop the cooking process. For a month mom would save milk cartons and anything else that would hold water to freeze for the great corn feast. It really took a lot of ice and even then, it was never enough. It was very important to mom that the water be icy cold, but the ice would melt so fast when we put in the corn. We would have both sides of the sink filled with water and ice. We'd dump the hot corn on one side and quickly move it to the other to finish the cooling process. Then as one side melted, we would switch sides and put the hot corn on that side and then move it to the other fresh water and ice. Then we would move it to the dish drainer so that the water would drain off.
We had an assembly line going on in the house, but outside the shucking continued. As more and more corn was shucked then more of us girls were needed in the house. The men were left to continue shucking while we girls started stripping the corn from the cob. As a bowl would fill, then we would fill freezer bags and stash them in the freezer. Girls, remember the white melmac cup that mom used to scoop the corn into the bags?
We'd stop for lunch which consisted of corn, corn, and more corn, tomatoes, tomatoes, and more tomatoes and maybe a few cucumbers. That was it!!! If anybody wanted something else, they were out of luck. Now I don't want to brag or anything, but there was a time when I actually ate 14 ears of corn in one setting. My brother ate two more than me. Think about that folks. I am sure I looked pregnant after that meal and probably sick all afternoon. Oh, but it was good. It still is, but now days I restrain myself.
The Great Dawkins Pigout - that is what my hubby calls it. We never have fresh corn without remembering. We talked about our jobs, told secrets, discussed our summer plans, what we were going to do on the 4th, complained about our kids, told jokes, and basically solved the world's problems under that old tree. Those talks under that old tree may be why we siblings continue to enjoy each others company and perhaps why we take a trip together now and again. We are setting under that old tree again. Wouldn't it be nice to relive that whole day just one more time? The Great Dawkins Pigout.
I love you, all of you. We have a special family.
As soon as the first car drove down the drive, dad would be raring to go. It didn't matter whether all of us were there or not, he was headed to the field. He'd take the old pickup, not the new one. Remember that kids. That old dirty thing that was only used in the field. Remember we could pile in that one with mud caked to our knees because there was already an inch of dirt on the mats. We would pile in the back with whatever buckets we could find around the place, throw on our long sleeved shirts (itchy), and head to the field. Remember how the corn was wet with early morning dew and remember how wet our jeans and shirts were by the time we got back to the house? We'd start at one end and each take a row and start breaking the ears from the stalk. It was nasty, dirty work, but we knew what golden bits of goodness awaited us. When our buckets were full, we'd dump the corn in the back of the pickup and head back to the row to get more until we had gotten it all.
Daddy would back the pickup under the tree next to the fence in the back yard. We were as close to the cow lot as we could get so we could throw the shucks over the fence for the cows, but we were close enough to the house to easily walk back and forth. The adults would whack off the end and hand them to you kids so you could shuck, too. We just couldn't trust you with a butcher knife when you were little, but you sure wanted to participate. Can we trust you with a knife these days?
Once we got a pan full, mom would head to the house to start heating the water and usually one of us girls went with her and take the littlest grandchild, usually one in arms. Mom would rinse the corn out under the faucet just off the porch before she headed inside with the corn. When the water was hot enough, she'd blanch them. In other words, put them in hot water until they brightened just a little bit. Then quickly she'd take them out and plunge them in ice cold water to stop the cooking process. For a month mom would save milk cartons and anything else that would hold water to freeze for the great corn feast. It really took a lot of ice and even then, it was never enough. It was very important to mom that the water be icy cold, but the ice would melt so fast when we put in the corn. We would have both sides of the sink filled with water and ice. We'd dump the hot corn on one side and quickly move it to the other to finish the cooling process. Then as one side melted, we would switch sides and put the hot corn on that side and then move it to the other fresh water and ice. Then we would move it to the dish drainer so that the water would drain off.
We had an assembly line going on in the house, but outside the shucking continued. As more and more corn was shucked then more of us girls were needed in the house. The men were left to continue shucking while we girls started stripping the corn from the cob. As a bowl would fill, then we would fill freezer bags and stash them in the freezer. Girls, remember the white melmac cup that mom used to scoop the corn into the bags?
We'd stop for lunch which consisted of corn, corn, and more corn, tomatoes, tomatoes, and more tomatoes and maybe a few cucumbers. That was it!!! If anybody wanted something else, they were out of luck. Now I don't want to brag or anything, but there was a time when I actually ate 14 ears of corn in one setting. My brother ate two more than me. Think about that folks. I am sure I looked pregnant after that meal and probably sick all afternoon. Oh, but it was good. It still is, but now days I restrain myself.
The Great Dawkins Pigout - that is what my hubby calls it. We never have fresh corn without remembering. We talked about our jobs, told secrets, discussed our summer plans, what we were going to do on the 4th, complained about our kids, told jokes, and basically solved the world's problems under that old tree. Those talks under that old tree may be why we siblings continue to enjoy each others company and perhaps why we take a trip together now and again. We are setting under that old tree again. Wouldn't it be nice to relive that whole day just one more time? The Great Dawkins Pigout.
I love you, all of you. We have a special family.
I remember my first Dawkins Pig Out as a brother-in-law; I was simply amazed at the amount of corn consumed, I swear Robert ate 22 ears. It was a great time and fun to participate.
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