Hi, clowns!
I’ve historically been really bad at keeping track of dates and times of important things. So it comes as no surprise to me that apparently, I forgot something important last week.
On August 2nd, Food is Stupid turned three years old.
For some reason I’d convinced myself that it was actually today.
So the whole time I was fucking around, making a Caprese Sun drinkable salad, I was neglecting the fact that the newsletter had hit a milestone! I’m a terrible father. Good thing I do not have children. (Of course, I am the idiot who showed up to his friend’s birthday party a week late once. Sorry, Katie.)
You and I have been through a lot together, haven’t we? When I first started the newsletter, I didn’t think it’d amount to very much, but since it started, we’ve done some pretty hilarious shit. Who knew I’d go viral by making bread with Gatorade, make communion wafer nachos, accidentally turn water into wine, and try tenderizing steak with my 2009 Camry? Oh yeah, and there was (and still is) that whole pandemic thing. Looking through everything I’ve written about, I can’t believe I’m an actual human being. And that I’m still alive.
Don’t worry. I’m not going to turn this edition into a walk down memory lane, you guys can all click around and nose through the archives on your own time. Just don’t forget to do it, since there’s some pretty wonderful gems in here.
Thank you all for reading, supporting me, sending me messages, writing comments, checking in on me, and signing up for paid subscriptions to the newsletter. You’re nothing short of amazing. I love you all. My life would be flavorless without you.
Okay. Time to kick off our fourth year.
Let’s go.
Today’s idea came from my muse, fiancée, and total babe, Davida.
I wish I could say we were engaged in a lively brainstorming session while doing something very interesting, but basically she just blurted out the words “baby corn elotes” for no reason, and I busted out laughing. This is how the best ideas are formed in our tiny household of two people and two cats. Speaking of tiny, the idea of a miniature cob of corn slathered with mayo, and skewered onto a toothpick sounded hilarious to me.
I think baby corn is one of the most entertaining foods out there.
For the longest time, I’d just assumed that baby corn was some different species of plant that just looked like corn. But no, baby corns are actually corn babies. My friend Nikki wrote a cool piece about them at Serious Eats a long time ago. Look at all those miniature corn kernels! How’s that not funny?
Davida and I also happen to love elotes (Mexican street corn), so whenever we have the ingredients to make it, I usually make a batch.
I began by jabbing a toothpick into the miniature corn cob and spread mayo all over it.
Then I added a layer of Mexican crema.
I like using a little butter too, sometimes. The elotes cart guys in our neighborhood usually squirt a little bit of Parkay margarine onto the corn while they’re making it, but I forgot to do that because as you all know, I’m heavy into details.
Then I sprinkled some cotija cheese on top along with a dash of chile powder.
I offered a bite to Harvey, who just sat there and stared at it, unblinking.
He generally doesn’t trust my cooking and I do not blame his ass.
I made one for Davida too and we tried eating the kernels off the cob to pretend like we were giants.
Just like the newsletter, we’re three years old. And of course, the elotes were delicious. I mean, it’s mayo, cream, and salty cheese on top, what’s not to love? Canned baby corn doesn’t really have that much flavor, but that’s okay. There’s all that other good shit on top.
I don’t know about you all, but honestly, I prefer esquites, which are just elotes cut into a cup, rather than on a stick.
I have what some might refer to as “facial hair.” It’s the worst mustache ever, but I keep it anyway to ward off the throngs of people who are attracted to my sheer handsomeness. It’s exhausting being me, you know? Getting mayo on my upper lip and in my nose makes for kind of a stinky day, so I prefer shoveling corn in my cornhole with a corn shovel, aka a spoon.
I completed the painstaking task of chopping baby corn kernels off the corn cob, and baby corn kernels are about as cute as you’d imagine.
Using the miniature cup and spoon I got from my Dippin’ Dots kit (the gift that keeps on giving), I tossed the baby corn kernels with mayo and crema, then sprinkled some chile powder on top.
Heh.
At this point it was hard to tell that this was baby corn esquites (it could have been anything), but it didn’t matter. The idea was still cracking me up. I mean, you can see those ultra miniature corn kernels in the cup, and very tiny things will always be amusing to me.
Case in point.
Three years, can you believe it? Don’t forget to share the joy of baby corn elotes on social media! The bad thing is, the newsletter isn’t giant. But that just means it has potential. At least, that’s what I tell myself:
If you’ve been with me for three years (or have just joined the fun), you really owe it to yourself to sign up for the paid version. That’s three years of me threatening to cram foreign objects up my ass (mostly food, but anything’s game). Paid subscribers get a bunch of exclusive editions and have the added ability to read all the previous paid-subscriber-only stuff via the web. My not-so-secret dream is to do this full time.
I’ll set you guys up with a 20% off coupon for one year, since it’s the newsletter’s birthday. But you have till next Tuesday before it expires.
This week’s paid subscriber content will be a white wine concoction called “Giardonnay,” which was suggested to me by a Twitter friend. It’s a drink that came to them in an actual dream, combining Chicago’s favorite condiment, giardinera, and chardonnay. I’m sure it’ll be terri— uh, amazing.
As always, I love you guys. So, so much. It’s been so much fun, and I’m really proud of the newsletter and where it’s taken me. The best part is, I’ve been able to get to know so many of you along the way.
I’ll hop into some of your inboxes Friday. Go have a good week.
Fuck, this sounds delicious. I freaking love baby corn.
thats some mr bee sized corn