This week you can’t swing a flaxen husk without hitting a plate of corn, now appearing in various candy-sweet guises all over town.

We ordered white corn as a sidedish at Monsoon, where it arrived hot-off-the-wok with fairylike honshimeji mushrooms and a freshening sprinkle of green onions. Exquisite.

The next night at Branzino we ordered a plate of summer corn, lavished with butter and speckled with roasty bits of chanterelle and fragrant thyme. With it, a dense and entirely superfluous square of cornbread.

Finally we encountered corn in its coolest incarnation in the form of corn cream—yes, corn cream—at Tilth. Think corn reduced to its essence, pureed and thoroughly strained, then poured over butter-tender balsamic-glazed organic chicken.

Straw, please.

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