Food is so important to people it’s no wonder that events surrounding its preparation remain over decades. The gathering and preparation of corn in summers past are some of my most vivid memories.

As a child I lived two short blocks from my grandmother, “Maman” Hebert. Once or twice during the hot summers she’d call me on the phone, “I’m making you a corn soup. Get on your bike and come over for lunch.” (She knew it was my favorite.)

Her modest house on Provost Street only had an attic fan to counter the hot Louisiana temperature and high humidity. She braved them both as she sat on her tiny back porch carefully cutting and milking the cobs of soft yellow kernels into a large bowl on her lap. She was around 73 at the time and probably starting to feel her age. But she liked to cook special dishes for her family members when she was able.

The corn crop comes in around the first of June here in the Deep South. Getting it picked, shucked, cut, and preserved is done in a very short window of opportunity. The days are crossed off the calendar because within a week or two if it’s not picked, it hardens on the stalk, and what remains is destined for the pigs.

When I was a teenager, I was dating Isby whose family had farmland on the Forty Arpent Road just outside of town. It was leased to others to plant crops year round, some of which was early corn. I was excited to have been invited to go along with them to watch the corn being picked. Everyone pitched in, reaching out to grasp and tear off one or two ears on each stalk that appeared to be ready.

It looked like fun, so I joined in. However, the fun ran out for me after I’d walked the length of one row! I silently retreated to the shade of a nearby pecan tree. The cool water from the hand-pumped water well quickly revived me. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help then or later when Isby’s mother stood at the stove cooking the corn, preserving it for their freezer.

A few years passed until it was nearing time for Isby and me to get married in the fall of 1962. We were planning to live in LSU Married Students’ Housing on campus in Baton Rouge. (I’ll spare you the details of our meager budget …) During the summer, my older sister, Gaynell, offered to prepare corn for the freezer for us in small plastic bags to help stretch our grocery money later in the year.

I recall us working so hard under her direction in her hot kitchen stirring a big pot of corn. Looking back, I also remember she was expecting her second baby, Stephanie, due in the fall. What a sacrifice of time and effort for her to do that! Again, I was of little help, but I tried.

These are the thoughts I’m having today as I surveyed two dozen ears of fresh- picked corn with the intention of putting some away perhaps for Thanksgiving. With the help of Isby, my husband of nearly 60 years, (yep, that same guy), I stood outside on a pleasant morning shucking and cutting corn again. One detail I had forgotten is that the ratio of corn ears to corn kernels is about 10:1! It takes about 10 ears to yield one cup of the finished product.

Later I’ll cook the delicious fresh kernels either with butter or as Macque Choux, a Cajun favorite. We’ll let the mixture cool and, as we’ve done for over six decades, place the bags in the freezer where they will be proudly served to our family for the holidays.

(This year though I’ll have to supplement with some from Fresh Pickins!!)

I can only hope we’ve created a loving gastronomic memory that will be passed on in the family. Perhaps one spring day in the distant future, the great grandchildren–Ava, Cohen, and Marlow…Elliot and Emmett — will feel a strong urge to do the same as “Laine and Bay”.