If I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m from a small farming town in South Dakota (population 600, give or take a few high school grads). I had a lovely childhood in this little place where everybody knows your name and there’s never a need to lock your doors or announce that you’re stopping by for coffee. The people are as nice as you would expect in a place like this and I’m happy to call it home. One of my favorite memories of Summer growing up was picking sweet corn from our garden. My brother and I would shuck the cobs in the garage while my Mom would boil the water. This ritual marked some of my most special memories and is responsible for my hopeless devotion to anything made with corn.