Classic Succotash

The corn is ready. Our corn, not the farm stand corn — the Silver Queen that Helen plants every May along the back fence where it gets the most sun. There's a rule about corn: you start the water boiling before you pick it. Not after. Not during. Before. Because from the moment you pull an ear off the stalk, the sugar starts converting to starch, and every minute between field and pot is a minute of sweetness you'll never get back. My father told me this. His father told him. It's Bergstrom corn doctrine, and I don't care if the science supports it or not. The corn tastes better when you run.

I picked a dozen ears on Saturday morning, with the water already at a hard boil on the stove. Shucked them on the porch — Frost sat at my feet and tried to eat the silk, which he does every year, and every year he regrets it — and had them in the pot within four minutes of picking. Four minutes. Helen timed me. She's been timing me for thirty years. My record is three minutes twelve seconds, set in 1994, and I will go to my grave knowing I peaked in corn efficiency twenty-two years ago.

You boil corn for four minutes. Four. Not five, not seven, not "until it looks done." Four minutes. Then you take it out, butter it, salt it, and eat it immediately. Standing up if necessary. Over the sink, if the butter's dripping. Corn on the cob is not a dignified food, and it's not supposed to be. It's August in Vermont and the world is giving you something perfect. Accept it. Get butter on your chin. You've earned it.

David brought the kids down on Sunday. Teddy ate three ears of corn and looked like he'd been in a butter-related accident. Anna ate half an ear and then threw it at the dog. James, at one month old, slept through the entire event, which shows good judgment. Karen held him in one arm and ate corn with the other, a feat of coordination that should qualify her for some kind of medal.

I also made succotash — corn and lima beans, cooked together with butter and a bit of cream. My mother made this every August. It's the kind of dish nobody orders in a restaurant because it's too simple, too plain, too much like something your grandmother made. That's exactly why I make it. Sometimes food isn't about impressing anyone. It's about remembering.

The corn will keep producing for a few more weeks. We'll eat it every way we can — boiled, grilled, cut off the cob for chowder, frozen for winter. August is generous. You take what it gives.

The succotash I made that Sunday wasn’t for the occasion—it was for me, or maybe for my mother, or for the particular feeling of August slipping past while a one-month-old slept in Karen’s arms and butter dripped off Teddy’s chin. It’s the simplest thing I know how to cook, and some weeks that’s exactly right. Here’s how I make it.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

4 ears fresh corn, kernels cut from the cob (about 3 cups)
2 cups lima beans, fresh or frozen and thawed
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped (optional)

Instructions

Cut the corn. Stand each ear upright in a wide bowl and cut the kernels from the cob with a sharp knife, working top to bottom. Run the back of the knife down the cob to press out any remaining milk. Set aside.
Cook the lima beans. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the lima beans and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 4 to 5 minutes until just tender and heated through.
Add the corn. Add the corn kernels to the pan and stir to combine. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, just until the corn is tender and bright. Do not overcook — you want the corn to stay sweet.
Finish with butter and cream. Reduce heat to low. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and the heavy cream. Stir gently until the butter is melted and the cream coats everything in a light, glossy sauce, about 1 to 2 minutes.
Season and serve. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to a serving bowl, scatter parsley over the top if using, and serve immediately. This dish does not wait well — eat it while it’s hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Classic Succotash — The Dish That Tastes Like August in Vermont