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How sweet it is: Summer corn
BY MARGO OXENDINE • CONTRIBUTING WRITER
 | | Monja Robertson, 14, sells some tasty Serendipity corn to Russell Conner of Kingtown. Monja's dad, Scott Robertson, grows the sweet, succulent corn, which makes the family's roadstand vending operation a popular summer stop. Hurry, Monja will be selling the last of the corn crop this weekend. (Recorder photo by Margo Oxendine) |
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MITCHELLTOWN - What could be sweeter?
There's much to gripe about when summer rolls around - heat, humidity, mosquitoes, weeding.
Then again, there's the produce. Peaches, tomatoes, green beans, yellow squash, cucumbers. And the corn! Sweet, succulent corn, fresh off the cob, makes summer something to smile about.
For the past few weeks, it's been a veritable cornucopia around Bath and Highland. Farmers in pickup trucks pull over to the side of the highway and set up shop. Sometimes, there's nary a spot to park.
But the sweetest corn, and the sweetest vendors, can be found at the end of Scott and Diane Robertson's driveway in Mitchelltown.
Most any afternoon, and much of Saturday, Monja Robertson, 14, is there. She sits in her dad's fourwheel Kawasaki Mule, her trendy pink cell phone at her side, the evening paper on the passenger seat.
But Monja has little time to read. She's busy, busy, busy selling corn.
And what corn it is: Bi-color (yellow and white), from special seed her grandfather in Pennsylvania introduced to Scott a few years ago. It's called Serendipity - an unexpected gift from God - and that's what dinner is, when Robertson corn is on the table.
Scott Robertson plants just one acre of corn in his field. It yields "a bunch," he says. And it's only available for a few weeks in August. In fact, if you've a hankering for Serendipity, this weekend is probably the last chance you'll have to get it.
Retired doctor Don Myers knows all about Robertson corn. When asked if he's a "cornoisseur," he'll tell you, "Yes, if that means I'm a pig about corn!" He's bought corn from other roadside stands, but his favorite comes from the Robertsons' field. One day, he called ahead to make sure Scott or Monja or Diane or son Tyler, 11, would be selling that day. Scott said he was loading his pickup to head to Monterey, where he sets up at the busy Main Street corner.
Not to be denied his delight, Myers asked if he could run right over and pick up some corn. "Scott sold it to me right off the stalk," he says. "You can't get any fresher than that!"
While the Robertson corn is a big draw, it's the sweet, shy Monja who makes the purchase extra special.
"She's so cute, and she works so hard," Myers says. "She does a real good job; I just think it's wonderful."
Monja enjoys her selling job, she says, although "it starts to get a little old by the end of the summer."
School starts soon. And Diane Robertson will use the proceeds from corn sales to buy school clothes for Monja and Tyler. Monja says she'll miss her summer job, but most of all, she confides, she'll miss getting to drive that Kawasaki Mule down the driveway, the bed piled high with fresh, sweet corn.
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