Amazing Maize: Is the Sweet Corn Ready?

In 1931, Russian botanist Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov proposed that maize or corn originated from a short, bushy plant called teosinte domesticated by prehistoric farmers 7,500 to 12,000 years ago in the area of southern Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras and Costa Rica. This geographic region is referred to as the South Mexican and Central American Vavilovian Center. See the Article on “Who is Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov?” By 4,500 years ago, corn was being raised and used by the natives throughout North and South America.

In the 15th and 16th centuries, explorers and traders to the New World sailed home with precious cargoes of corn, spreading it by wagon, caravan and vessel across Europe and to the rest of the world. Today, corn is the most widely cultivated crop in the world. The United States produces 40% of the world’s harvest, followed by China, Brazil, Mexico, Indonesia, India, France, Argentina, South Africa and the Ukraine. My home state of Iowa produces the most corn in the U.S. I grew up with the childhood sing-song “knee-high by the Fourth of July” to mean a good crop was on the way. I remember a recent trip on a sunny fall day with the dust of the harvesters signaling across the rolling hills and the corn glittering like gold in the distant grain wagons. It is an image I will never forget.

Where I grew up, most corn was referred to as “field corn,” to distinguish it from “sweet corn.” Field corn is allowed to stand in the fields until the stalks are brown and the kernels on the ears are dry and mature, the dent stage, because the dried kernels are dented inward from the shriveling of water loss. Field corn has many uses. The corn itself and bales and fodders made from the stalks, cobs and leaves are fed directly to animals. Corn kernels are processed by smashing, bashing, squeezing, heating and mixing into many varieties of foods for human consumption, oils for cooking, medicines for treating and organic chemicals for manufacturing plastics, fabrics, adhesives and other items you use and view every day. Approximately 40% of the world corn crop is converted to corn ethanol, a biofuel, to run our cars and power our engines.

My hat is off to all these practical and beneficial uses of field corn, but in my view and I suspect the view of many, the pièce de résistance of the corn world is sweet corn. Sweet corn is a spontaneous mutation of field corn. It is shorter than its field-hardy cousin, but it is oh so sweet and oh so good. Plucked from a pot of boiling water and skewered on each end with those little metal prongs shaped like tiny plastic ears of corn, the kernel-rich ear is slathered with butter, sprinkled vigorously with salt and pepper and munched down the rows of sweet delight like a human typewriter hitting the return and bouncing back for more. Sweet corn is my favorite mutant vegetable. It is said the Iroquois Indians of North America offered the first sweet corn, called Papoon, to European settlers in 1779. The world has not been the same since.

While field corn is viewed as a grain, sweet corn is prepared and eaten as a vegetable. Sweet corn is picked when immature in its milk stage. It stores poorly and must be eaten fresh, canned or frozen, before the kernels become tough and starchy. So, eat it fresh from the garden if you can.

An interesting fact about that ear of corn you are holding. The individual ear always has an even number of rows of kernels. So, if you can restrain yourself for a moment, count the rows and see if this is true.

I just called Uncle Joe and he said the sweet corn is about a week away from being ready. The anticipation is mounting. If possible, I plan to be there on the first day, as a scientific experiment, of course, to count the rows — if I can wait that long.

I wish you well on your sweet corn search,

Grandpa Jim

Happy Father’s Day!

Good Saturday Morning!

It has been a busy and exciting week. On Monday afternoon, the air conditioner iced over. On Wednesday afternoon, one of the largest hailstorms in memory hit at 6:36 pm. For June, we were, at this point, all iced down, worn out and ready for relief.

Then, on Friday at 8:17 am, relief exploded onto the scene in the mega-release of little Mary and the Seven Sisters! The cosmic consequences were delightful. We all danced, shouted and sang along to the Mud Pie Song as our chilled memories dissipated and were forgotten in the extravagance and warmth of a backyard wedding reception.

Whew, you wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day in the U.S. So, give a call, take to lunch or apply a hug to that Father, Grandfather, Great Grandfather, Son, Grandson, Great Grandson, Brother, Husband, Uncle, Great Uncle, Cousin and all the rest of those special men in your life. I’ll be calling my Dad, playing with the grandkids, going to lunch with their Father, my Son, and phoning my other son who will soon be a Father. It is a wonderful day.

Enjoy your weekend and Happy Father’s Day,

Grandpa Jim

gpajim@unclejoestories.com

Dog Runs, Gals Visiting and Coils Found

Middle of the week greetings, I hope the day finds you doing quite nicely indeed,

Cloud cover and cool this morning, it is quite pleasant. I’m waiting on the call that the new coils have been found for the inside air conditioning unit.

Yesterday afternoon with the air out, I felt why the early settlers to Texas built “dog-run” log cabins. The dog-run cabin is really two log cabins separated by a covered breezeway. The breezeway provides a shaded area for the cooling breezes to circulate between the cabins. The name derives from the fact that the dogs loved to sleep there. In the summer, I bet a few family members found it more comfortable out there than in the bedroom, which had a door to the dog run, as all the rooms did, but tended not to have windows, so no cross breeze in bed. For one and all, the coolest and most comfortable location was the dog run. Move over, Fido.

In the mid-1800’s, dog-run cabins could be found throughout Texas. In fact, the dog-run design was used on the frontier through the US and into Canada. I still see a few around, most hauled in from the country, prettied up, and stocked with bows, bangles and trinkets to attract customers to the weekend fairs and festivals that are prevalent in Texas for much of the year. Salado is my favorite Texas cowboy town to walk the shops, talk to the folks, and have a cold soda in a tastefully decorated dog-run. If only those settlers could see us now. I bet they’d sit right down, marvel at our pops and have a nice long talk.

Things change, but in some ways not much at all.

Come visit.  We’ll save a place for you.

Grandpa Jim

PS: Don’t forget Mary and the Young Gals are visiting Friday. I wonder what they will be doing?

PPS: The coils are in! I can feel the dog-run breezes already.

gpajim@unclejoestories.com

Ice Today, Sisters Friday

It’s official. Summer is here. The inside A/C unit froze solid as a rock yesterday. We hit 100 and it turned to ice. Actually, it’s kind of fun. I opened up the house this morning, nice breezes, and now I am outside typing on the laptop on the balcony watching the joggers on the trail and listening to the birds and the dogs. Haven’t seen any bees.

Summer is travel time with family and friends. I changed the website title to acknowledge and to encourage you to read and tell stories and tales in your cars, on the plane, and at the hotel, resort or vacation destination. If you see Grandpa or Grandma, ask for one of theirs — those are special.

More stories are on the way. The first story with Mary and the seven sisters will be posted this Friday morning at 9 am my time — keep your fingers crossed and knock on wood. I have to do the rewrites next and get them by the reviewers. The second Uncle Joe story just came back from the copy editor and I have more work to do, but I am very excited. It has a completely new “character.” No hints. You will have to wait and see.  This second Uncle Joe story will be published right here at 9 am on June 29th (it’s supposed to be the 1st, but I am going on vacation the next morning).

Of course, you can always read and re-read “Uncle Joe and the Haunted House.”  It gets better the second and third times. I think I’ve read, told or heard that story a hundred times, and I see something new each time.

Sorry, I moved “Uncle Joe and the Haunted House” back under Uncle Joe Stories so the front page could blog the excitement about the Mary story on Friday! I can’t help tinkering, so Uncle Joe will probably move back and forth. Uncle Joe does not stay in one place very long. He is a busy farmer.

Good times and safe travels,

Grandpa Jim

Email me any time at gpajim@unclejoestories.com

Birthdays Past and Sisters Soon — Stay Tuned!!!!!!!

An exciting Monday to you all.

On Saturday, Ms. Christine’s 82nd Birthday Bash went off wonderfully.  The food and company were outstanding, as they always are at family gatherings.  Uncle Joe and brothers Charles and John fried the fish, hush puppies, french fries and jalapeno poppers.  Everyone brought something.  The sides (that I remember and I am sure there were more) were potato salad, coleslaw, cooked carrots, spinach and artichoke casserole, fresh-make bread and three different types of home-made pickles (all canned in the last month).  For dessert, the guest of honor had her choice of cakes and cherry foo-foo salad (one of my favorites).  I could not move and had to sit around and chat and drink sweet tea for at least two hours to recover, as did all the party.

A special treat was a pop-in visit from Ms. Christine’s 76-year old nephew, Frankie.  He regaled the birthday girl and everyone else with tales.  I particularly liked the one of a young 6-year old Christine rocking her active nephew back and forth in an old red wagon to entice him to sleep.  I don’t think Frankie has slowed down since, and I think he has fond memories of that wagon.

Another special treat is on your way.  The first “Mary” story will be published this Friday, June 15th.  “Uncle Joe and the Haunted House” will stay on the front page until his sister and her sisters make their debut.  Put it on your calendar.  It’s not often you get to meet seven sisters at one time.

Dont’ race, keep the pace, the week has started,

Grandpa Jim

“Uncle Joe and the Haunted House” — Revised and Re-Energized!

Good Morning and Good Weekend.

Mary and I are just about to leave for the country for MeMaw’s 82nd Birthday Party.  Uncle Joe will be supervising the Fish Fry.  More about that in a future Blog. Stay tuned.

Thank you for all your comments and suggestions to the first Uncle Joe story.

“Uncle Joe and the Haunted House” has been reformatted, revised and re-energized!  Take a look and enjoy a read.  You are the first to see Joe’s new look.

Have a fantabulous weekend and talk with you all on Monday.

Grandpa Jim

gpajim@unclejoestories.com

Be Aware Not Awry

I am learning to cook.  It is fun.  Mary gives me hints, watches closely and samples my creations.  Measuring is an area I find challenging.  A smile was on Mary’s face when she left for work this morning.  That is a good sign.  I made dinner last night.

Sometimes I go too fast.  I had prepared this baking dish with stuff inside.  The dish and cover were correct — Mary told me which to use.  The oven was set at the proper temperature.  I opened the door, placed the dish on the rack, and touched the back of my hand to the hot heating element.  Ouch!  That hurt. I had a minor burn, very minor, but it hurt.

What to do?  I rushed about the kitchen looking for relief.  I was by myself and I was beside myself.

Shaving cream?  I had heard that it works for minor burns.  Non-mentholated shaving cream is suggested for the treatment of sunburn.  But, the bathroom and the shaving cream were upstairs and I needed something now.

The burn really wasn’t that bad.  I probably could have read a book or at least a short story, but I was ready to treat.

Ice?  Hmmmm?  That sounded good.  Ice cold, burn hot — good equation, right?  I grabbed a cube and put it directly on the red area.  Ahhhhh.

I should have slowed down, asked for help, made a call, checked the net.  Dr. Spock was on the shelf.  Was I doing the right thing?

Ice is frozen water.  It is a solid mineral in the form of a crystallized rock.  I was putting a rock on a burn.  Does that sound like something I should be doing?

But, it did feel good, maybe too good?

Ice is at 32 °F.  Liquid water freezes solid at that temperature.  When melting, ice stays at 32° F the entire time that it melts.  During that time, the ice cube I was applying has to absorb energy from my skin equivalent to heating the same mass of water to 176 °F.  That is a big change in temperature and a big energy drain on the hurt area which was franticly pumping my energy into the ice cube for me to feel the cooling effect of the phase change.  So much cooling over such a short time can damage tissue – think frostbite here.  In effect, I was hurting the hurt, not helping the burn.  It felt better for a short while, but ice on a burn is not a good idea and should not be done.

What I should have done was place the slightly burned area under cool (not cold) running water, let dry and cover with a loose sterile bandage.  Most minor burns usually heal without further treatment.

This is not medical advice.  Take the time to get just that.

This is us together observing me the cook not thinking when the cooking goes awry.

“Awry” means “away from the correct or expected course, amiss or askew.”  A wonderful word and one I must remember and cautiously expect when I put on my cooking hat.  “Where is that awry, is it here yet, am I prepared, don’t panic, I am ready for the awry, I am, I hope?”  It never hurts to think before you undertake.  As I now say, “Be Aware Not Awry.”

My hand is getting better, thank you, and I have learned a lesson: No ice on a burn.  Ice is for cooling beverages and making ice cream.  Now, that sounds like fun.  “Mary, where’s that ice cream maker?”

Have a great weekend.

Grandpa Jim, in the Kitchen.

Emails, Blogantee & Blogotto

Thank you for all your emails.

To Eric of Malek Fishermen’s Band in Garner, Iowa, I’m glad you had a great time in Texas.  We enjoyed your music at the National Polka Festival.  Stop by the website anytime for a quick visit to the farmlands between Ennis and West.

To Niece Jennie in Kansas City, Missouri, thank you for your kind words about “Uncle Joe and the Haunted House,” remembering Grandpa’s Tarzan stories, and weaving yesterday’s Vavilovian post into a “Baby Jeanne and the Wheat Gene” story to tell your little ones.  You have a wonderful imagination.  I can’t wait to hear one of your storytellings.

To Dr. Frank in Dallas, Texas, you win the golden coupon for catching a typo in “Uncle Joe and the Haunted House.”  The story had been reviewed by so many so many times, but you did it, you found it.  “Slats” is the proper spelling of the intended word, not “slates.”  You are a physician with a keen eye for the written word.  Have a great time reading the story to your Grandson in California.

And thank you Granddaughter Katelyn, visiting in Colorado, for your many emails and encouragements.

And to all, we thank you and extend to each the “Blogantee,” this Blog’s Guarantee, that if you read regularly, you will be “Strengthened in Spirit, Invigorated in Intellect and Elevated in Energy.”  What a deal.  It’s better than vitamins and absolutely free.

And don’t forget our “Blogotto,” the Blog Motto, “Read & Send to Me and I Will Respond and Post to You.”  Now, that’s a two-way street worth traveling.

Please send your emails to gpajim@unclejoestories.com

Have an exciting and energy-filled day,

Grandpa Jim

Vavilovian Centers, Happy Farmers and Great Sandwiches

Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov was a Russian botanist and geneticist who devoted his life to understanding crop failures and ending famines.  A brilliant scientist, he discovered that all cultivated plants derive from certain “rough” ancestors, and these “original” versions of our modern-day foodstuffs began and first took root in a very few centers of origin located around the globe.  There may only be 8-12 of these Vavilovian Centers, and most everything we eat derives from one of these critical crop locations.

Wheat is from the Central Asiatic Center.  Potatoes and tomatoes are from the South American Center, which is amazing to me.  This means that there were no potatoes in Ireland and no tomato sauce in Italy until after Columbus discovered America.  From a culinary standpoint, you begin to taste how important these centers are and what a contribution to crops and cooking Mr. Vavilov has made.

Thank you, Nikolai Ivanovich.

As a post script, the Crepe Myrtle, though not listed as a crop, derives from the Indian Center, as does rice, which paints another fascinating picture.  There was no rice in China until after it first sprouted in India.

And as a footnote, why are these centers so important?  Consider that, with the incredible productivity of modern manipulated and custom-designed grains, there may also be sometimes hidden genetic weaknesses.  With a turn in an environmental circumstance or some other untoward catalyst adversely affecting the predominant strain of a grain, say wheat, the entire crop could be lost and the seed stock rendered worthless.

This is when the modern day Vavilov’s will scurry off to that ancient center for wheat, which is in the region of northern Iraq, southern Turkey and eastern Syria.  There, on their hands and knees with magnifying glasses, the scientists will scour the grounds of graveyards and ancient ruins, because these are often the only plots left untouched by the intrusions of modern man.  A tired researcher will find a seed of some surviving dwarf version of wheat, raise it in the air and shout with joy, because that ugly old hardy plant and its seed will likely be resistant to whatever weakness destroyed its modern cousin.

The farmers will be happy and make another wheat crop.  At home, we will be happy and make another sandwich, not realizing that we owe our lunch to a Russian scientist who just wanted to make the world a better place.

Enjoy that sandwich and have a productive day,

Grandpa Jim

Crepe Myrtles and Haunted Houses

Good Morning.  I hope this Tuesday finds you well and being about your week.

The Lagerstroemia are blooming in Texas.  Commonly know as the Crepe Myrtle, Crepes are the official harbingers of summer in much of Texas.  A bush that can grow as high as a small tree, the crepe flowers look somewhat like northern lilacs but in favored shades of hot pink, red and white.  One of my favorites is the watermelon, which has light red flowers with dark black centers that give the impression of seeds.  Crepe Myrtles are incredibly hardy, drought resistant and easy to transplant.  I have a transplanted seedling in a pot by the front door.

Turning to our second topic, if I click on the Internet for haunted houses I am given the location of 10 nearby houses that have regular hours.  I encounter phrases like “complete darkness — game room,” “amusement park – terrifying,” “meat packing plant — getting scared,” and “old west — haunted.”  I am sure all these houses are safe, spooky and fun, and I am sure they are all busy.

A 2005 Gallup Poll showed that 37% of American believe in haunted houses.  One New York judge ruled that a seller has a fiduciary obligation to disclose that a house has a reputation for being haunted.  At least, 64 haunted house movies have been made between 1921 and 2011.  “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir” was made the year I was born and it is a commendable film.  Literature is replete with haunted house stories.  People believe in them, judges rule in their favor, Hollywood films them, and authors write about them.

Clearly, there is popular support for haunted houses.  It seems that people generally want to know more about them and want to be involved with them.

I don’t know that Uncle Joe really wanted to know more about the haunted house in his story or really wanted to be more involved with that house.  As you can read, he did learn more about the house and he did get more involved with it.  Maybe that is something that all haunted houses really want.

I can’t help wondering if Uncle Joe is thinking about planting a Crepe Myrtle in the front yard of that old house?  Next time I’m down, I may just take that pot out front.  A lonely Lagerstroemia can always use a little company.

Enjoy your day,

Grandpa Jim