Skip to main content

The Truth About Popcorn

It almost hurts to share this Checkout Line column from Grist about popcorn, but I am compelled to do so by my own love of popcorn, the title of my blog, and my thesis topic from grad school. (One of my first steps in the new era of responsibility. It feels good despite it's depressing nature.)

Lou Bendrick takes a good look at conventional popcorn - mostly the microwave stuff since that's what most people eat - and it's not pretty. (I've posted a photo of the popcorn I grow to balance out the ugliness with some of the grains natural beauty. Refresh yourself as needed.) The grain is most likely genetically modified and not grown organically (unless it otherwise states), the butter flavoring might taste good but is undoubtedly not good for you, and the packaging is not good for the planet.

I grow my own organic popcorn using a combination of seeds - Tom Thumb, a small yellow variety; Strawberry, a small red variety that can often also be found at Farmer's Markets for eating or decorating; and Thanksgiving, an heirloom brown variety offered by Project Grow that gives up good size cobs with caramel-colored seeds. If we weren't moving to Japan, I'd add Blue to my list to see what happens.

Corn plants need other corn plants nearby in order to produce. Michael Pollan gives perhaps the best explanation of this process I've ever read in his book Omnivore's Dillemma, but suffice it to say that corn has male and female parts - tassle and silk, respectively - and that the pollen must go between them (cue the bees and the wind) on different plants to bring the ears we love to eat. (A more detailed explanation of the corn growing process is also offered by the National Gardening Association.)

In my garden I plant a double row and intersperse the corn seeds with beans and nasturtiums. Down the center I have put in winter squash, but did not this year due to a major infestation of squash bugs two years ago. A neighbor plants corn in his fields that are on both sides of our property, so that helps with pollination, too. (I am sure he plants genetically modified corn, but for whatever it's worth I take solace in the idea that my garden is chemical free and an oasis for those critters that need it and help with pollination.)

I consistently get a good harvest, and the cobs are a jaw-dropping mix of colors. Once I can't dent the kernals with my fingernail the cobs are ready for harvest. I pull back the dried husk, but leave it attached. I remove the silk, and then bunch the ears for hanging. (The husk is helpful for this process.) I let them hang until they are dry or I remember that I need to finish that project. I get about two to three quarts of popcorn (dried and de-cobbed) per year.

It pops up smaller but very consistently, and is incredibly tasty. We make it in an oil popper or on the stove. (I don't believe in hot air poppers. If I wanted to eat cardboard I'd go to the recycling bin.) We use olive oil, and then serve it up topped with soy sauce and nutritional yeast. I may need to whip some up now...

Comments

Anonymous said…
Hey Joan - let's give a shoutout to the Clinton Theater that pops up Eden's organic popcorn for righteous movie munching!It's a family theater in downtown Clinton where the price is right ($3.00)and the pre-movie music is the coolest in the county (served up by theater owner Frank Allison from his vast and quirky audio library).
Brilliant! Thanks for mentioning them, Cathy. Might I also say that popcorn would be an excellent addition to Frog Holler's vegetable repertoire...:)
Diana Dyer said…
We just took the popcorn off our cobs that we grew from Project Grow seeds. I will put all the lovely colored kernels into a glass jar and post a pix on my blog - thanks for the inspiration! We also gave away our air-popper several years ago and went back to using olive oil in our old beat-up popcorn pan (thankfully still tucked way back in a nearly inaccessible cupboard) after finally deciding that air-popped popcorn was the most uninteresting healthy food in the world (so why eat it?)

The ground hogs left our popcorn alone but devoured all the heirloom bean plants that I had planted to climb up the popcorn stalks. I was willing to give up 50% to the critters who have to eat, but nearly all???? Grrrrrr........ :-)

Great to meet you last night Joan! :-) :-)
I'm so sorry about the beans, Diana! I remember running out of the house one year when I spotted a ground hog in the garden. I threw my slipper at it, but it wasn't until I stationed my grandmother's dog nearby that they finally vacated. I'm glad the popcorn worked out, though!

Popular posts from this blog

Finding Heirloom Seeds in Japan

Drying pods of heirloom Hutterite Soup Beans. Since moving to Japan eight years ago, one of my greatest challenges as a farmer-gardener has been to find heirloom or open-pollinated seeds. The majority of seeds available are not GMO (genetically modified organisms) as Japan, at this point, doesn't accept this material. Most seeds, though, are nearly all F1 varieties. Heirloom and F1 Varieties In plant breeding, F1 is the name given to the first generation of a cross between two true breeding parents. For example, if I decide to cross an Amish Paste Tomato with another heirloom variety tomato such as Emmy, in hopes of getting a gold paste tomato, the resulting generation of fruit is F1. In order to get that tomato of my culinary dreams, I'll need to choose members of that first generation that are headed in a direction I like - early ripening, medium-sized fruit, good taste - and save their seeds. I'll plant them and repeat the process again and again over time unti

Satoimo: One of Japan's Favorite Slimy Things

Satoimo in all their hairy glory. This post first appeared in slightly different form on Garden to Table as part of the 2012  Blogathon . The website has since moved on to the ether, but the post is still a good one. After all, people here are still eating satoimo on a daily basis, and many others are just seeing these little potato-like objects for the first time. Enjoy! Satoimo is one of Japan's odder vegetables. Under it's rough, slightly furry skin is white flesh that is a little bit slimy even raw, and with a gentle nutty flavor.* Baked, grilled, steamed with dashi, or deep-fried satoimo stands well on its own or paired up with other vegetables and meats in a wide variety of soups and stews . (The leaves are also edible.) Satoimo stores well, and like any root crop worth the effort, stocks are just running low on this household favorite as the farmers in my area of Tokyo get ready to put a new crop in the ground in May. I cannot say I was a fan of this l

Goma Ai Shingiku - Sesame and Chrysanthemum Greens

Last week I had the pleasure of helping some friends work in their parents garden not too far away. Tucked behind the house, the garden sits on a former house lot. When it came up for sale about five years ago, my friend's father jumped at the chance. Open land in Tokyo can be hard to find and expensive, but for a retired professional looking for a little spot to till in the city it was an opportunity to good to pass up. Now, it is a garden to envy. As we came through the gate rose, lily, and peony blooms greeted us with great shouts of color while rows of vegetables stood tidily at attention on the sunny center stage. Small fruit trees along with one of the biggest sansho trees I've seen yet stood quietly here and there. Near waist-high sweet corn, bushy young potato plants, cherry tomatoes, eggplants, and beans were preparing their summer fruits, while a handful of still quite luscious looking winter vegetables like komatsuna, mizuna, and kabu held one last ro