Sort of succotash

Give me a few ears of sweet corn, a baguette and a couple sticks of butter and I'm set. (The butter goes on the bread, which is used to apply the creamy goodness to the corn. When the corn is all gone and the butter's melted into the crispy baguette... Get the idea?)

I'm not sure why it took so long but I was well into my thirties before I tasted succotash. It was okay, but I didn't see why the New England-bred cook who presented it to me was so all hopped up over it. Maybe the corn wasn't as sweet as I like, or the beans (limas are traditional, I'm told) too drab and mushy. Who knows? I never sought out the stuff again.

Earlier this summer, though, the corn coming out of Jordon's farm was some of the best I've had — and had. I ate so much of it over a two-week spell that the Jordans and I were wondering if I shouldn't have just purchased a share in their crop this year.

Then one day, whilst shelling some pretty swell borlotti beans from my garden, there on the kitchen counter I see these four ears of, well...

And so I quick-steamed them and shaved off the kernels.

This probably isn't a New Englander's idea of proper, but I sauteed some onion, hot pepper and proscuitto in olive oil.

Then tossed in the corn and some cooked borlottis.

Maybe it's succotash, maybe it isn't.

It tasted good.

I just need to figure out a way to rub it down with a baguette packed with butter.