Corn Soup
August 30, 2018
EVOLUTIONISTS would have us believe that the mystique of late summer is a trick.
The hummingbirds and the bees, the fields of ripening corn, the blackberry’s clever pockets bursting with juice — all are nature’s way of getting us to propagate the species. Talk about hoaxes! Though these scientists-turned-philosophers claim to believe in random events, they impute to nature itself — an entirely material reality — a form of mind and design.
The poets know otherwise. They know that the mysterious bounty and beauty of summer correspond with an invisible, intangible, immaterial reality. Robert Frost wrote of a summer caterpillar:
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To everything on earth the compass round,
And only by one’s going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.
The very summer breeze communicates love and thought. How can we prolong this delightfulness? How can we absorb it?
We can put it in a food processor and eat it.
My husband said yesterday that if he were to have blood tests right now, they would show that 60 percent of the contents of his veins is corn soup. We have eaten it all week. It is a simple recipe I thought up as I went along. The important ingredient is summer:
Lightly sauté chopped sweet summer onions in a heavy pot with a small amount of butter, putting the lid on so that the onions do not brown. When they are soft, add the corn (preferably sweet white corn) scraped from a dozen or so ears. Add enough chicken or light vegetable broth to just a few inches below the top of the corn. Return the lid and cook on medium low heat until the corn is just tender. Do not overcook. Add one cup of light cream (or more to just cover the corn) and bring to a simmer. Turn off the heat and let the soup cool. Process to a puree in a food processor or blender. (If you don’t have either, you can leave as is.) Return to stove. Add salt and fresh pepper to taste and more broth or cream to achieve the right smooth consistency.
Sometimes soup can have the same effect as a poem. It can summarize summer.
