Love the fresh flavor of corn on the cob but hate how it gets caught in your teeth? There are a few ways to cut a good kernel.

Yesterday, I mentioned the produce anxiety I face when the summer starts to head into fall. One way I combat the unrest I experience during the waning days of peaches and heirloom tomatoes is to eat meals that are simple, easy combinations of the best of the season. After I unpacked my farmers market haul yesterday, I made a very basic salad for lunch.

You can think of it as a very chunky guacamole, and if you were looking for a tasty dip, you could chop everything a bit finer and serve it with tortilla chips. I like eating more like a creamy salad, the corn kernels blending into the avocado chunks and hiding in the tomatoes. I made mine completely plain, seasoned with just with salt and pepper, although if you wanted a bit more acidity, you could dress it with a squeeze of lime juice. My basic recipe is after the jump.

When I was young and my family still lived in Los Angeles, we'd make the drive from Eagle Rock to Woodland Hills to visit my grandma Bunny about once a month. My dad's brothers would arrive with their families, filling the driveway with cars, dogs and kids. The musicians would settle down to the serious business of jamming, while Bunny listened, occasionally added a harmony line and took care of dinner. During the summer months, she would buy dozens of ears of corn and it would be my job to help her with the husking. We'd sit outside at a picnic table, a paper grocery bag from Ralph's between us and we shuck away. I can't make corn on the cob without thinking of her.

Over the weekend, I bought some corn at the farmers market and last night I gave it a quick steam. I was the only one eating, but I boiled all I had, because while I love it buttered and hot, straight off the cob, I also am a big fan of fresh corn on salads. What I couldn't eat was sliced off the cob and is now waiting in the fridge to be tossed with some arugula and Lancaster county tomatoes. Oh, but it was good on the cob. Sweet and crunchy and tasting of the essence of summer.

photo by Marisa McClellan

• You don't have to cook your pasta sauces.
• How to catch and cook a Maine lobster.
• The research behind the movie No Reservations.
• This couple collects old and rare cookbooks.
• Meals fit for a queen.
• A cool tool for your corn on the cob.
• This week's recipes: Mussels with Wine, Mussels with Saffron and Tomatoes, Oaxacan Potatoes, Plum Ketchup, Ballpark Mustard, and Peach-Cornmeal Muffins.

You know what we need more of in this world? Food on shirts. I don't mean the logos of food companies, I mean actual food. Hamburgers, popsicles, plates of macaroni and cheese, glasses of wine, whatever. LiquidBlue.com has some pretty wild designs at their site. You can get a giant slice of lime on a cool blue shirt. There's a shirt with an ear of corn around the neck. Or how about a grill filled with steak, shrimp, and hot dogs, since it is summer?

I like the watermelon shirt, since the design actual lends itself to a shirt, with the V-neck shape. Plus I love watermelon.

Corn on the cob is one of those foods I rarely have. It's really a seasonal thing, and considering that season is my least favorite by far (and I'm not a big cookout guy anyway) I never think of having it. But I'll try the following recipe the next time I have it.

It's for Griilled Corn with Chipotle-Lime Butter. Grilling corn on the cob has become more and more popular the past several years and I think the butter in this recipe will give it a kick your family might not be expecting if you're having a Memorial Day cookout.

A 13-year-old girl in the U.K. beat several grown men in a corn-on-the-cob eating contest this week, setting a British record in the process. Emily Cotterill consumed 26 ears of corn in 20 minutes, watching while "male opponents began vomiting and dropping out." Her parents seemed proud of their daughter's achievement, and her father even remarked that he considered entering the contest, but did not think he would stand a chance against Emily.

Emily said that she felt a little ill after the competition, but it soon passed. She also noted that she probably wouldn't be eating corn again anytime soon, but did not make a comment indicating whether or not she was interested in pursuing a career as a competitive eater in the future.

At least she was eating something relatively healthy, and not brats or hot dogs.

July 4th.  Surf and Stillwell Avenues.  The crowd, thousands strong,
bristles in the scorching heat, and the announcer hams it up.

"This, the hot dog, the symbol of patriotism!" he bellows; the crowd cheers.

It's the 91st annual Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, and I stand in
the throngs to bear witness.  American Joey Chestnut keeps a one-to-two-dog
lead over five-time champion Takeru Kobayashi.  The mood tenses, tight
as a sausage skin.  The minutes tick by.  Kobayashi evens the score.
Then he steps ahead.  The clock winds to zero, and Kobayashi wins by a
dog and three quarters at 53.75.

The 12 minutes of the contest leave me breathless, and I marvel
at the notion of food as a patriotic symbol.  Is a hot dog patriotic? 
Do other foods share the honor?