Homegrown Popcorn

In recent days, I have made a return to the popcorn of my youth. No, not Jiffy Pop. (My mom would never buy that for us, though we begged for it -- now I can thank her for that). Instead, I've been breaking out a big, old pot, heating up a tablespoon or two of oil, adding a scoop of kernels and shaking the popcorn like mad over a hot burner.

Not only does it taste better -- fresher and crispier -- but it facilitates the use of real butter and salt, which I'm all for. I can use as little or as much as I want. And it tastes so... real.

At what point did we all agree that popcorn can only come from a microwaveable bag? I have been giving this some thought lately, as I continue to work toward eating more traceable foods. As with all pre-packaged eats, it’s become a matter of convenience, I suppose. Throw it in the nuker for two minutes and get a couple other things done while you wait.

I recently chatted with Livia Townsend, who, with her husband Blair, grows approximately 55 acres of popping corn at their farm in Wallsingham, Ontario, just north of Long Point near the shores of Lake Erie.

"Have you ever looked at the inside of a package of microwave popcorn before you've popped it?" she asked me. Hmm. Not that I could recall. Good, she said, because it can be "scary looking."

"You can't tell whether it's old or whether it looks acceptable because you can't see it," she said, adding that the kernels inside are likely in there, unseen, because they didn't pass the test to be put into a clear plastic bag to be sold dry.

Townsend didn't claim to be an expert on microwave popcorn bags, but I was prompted to do a little Googling after our chat and discovered some scary things on my own about the wonky ingredients in a bag of that stuff (even if it is trans-fat free) and the chemical-laden lining on inside of the bags.

The Townsends grow several varieties of popping corn on their farm. The business evolved slowly after they took the reins in 1988, a few years after Blair's father Robert, along with two other farmers and an engineer, first decided to tinker around with growing popcorn. Blair was growing tobacco at the time, and as the industry was declining, he and Livia wanted to get involved in an alternative crop. They made the transition gradually and now farm only the popcorn.

Traditionally, the yellow popcorn we eat comes in from the U.S. -- most of it from Iowa. The Townsends' popcorn -- they sell it under the brand name Uncle Bob's Popping Corn (named for Blair's father) -- is different. White Hull-less Popping Corn is one of their most popular varieties; it's not hull-free, but has a thinner hull that, after being popped has less tendency to get caught in the teeth. (This one is Livia's favourite).

They also sell popcorn kernels in a rainbow of colours -- Strawberry Red, Shamu Blue, Purple Passion. This brings on visions of gimmicky dye injections, but that’s actually quite far from the truth. The coloured kernels actually pop up white and, depending on the colour, vary in texture, size and taste. The colours are also completely natural -- they have to be, because Ontario Popping Corn Company (that’s the name of the Townsends' business) is both organic and Local Food Plus certified.

Livia says she regularly encounters people who are shocked to find out that popcorn is grown right here in Southern Ontario. The Townsends aren't the only ones growing it, but they aren't among hordes, either.

"A lot of people don't realize you can grow popping corn here," she says. "People a few miles away from us don't realize what we're growing. We are so inclined to buy a package from the store, in a bag. People are so disconnected from their food."

The Ontario Popping Corn Company does all of their own packaging of the popcorn and much of their own marketing. "The Internet has been great," Livia says, in terms of getting word of mouth out about their product. Bags of their corn can be found in smaller groceries (Foodland, for example) as well as in specialty shops (like Picard's in St. Jacob's). It can also be ordered online at www.ontariopoppingcorn.com.

And now, a very simple recipe (if you can even call it that), to inspire you to try real popcorn. I can't say it will take only two minutes to make this, but it will take less than ten. Yes, there's a bit of oil involved, but not much -- and there are no chemicals present. I don't recommend using your best pot; an old one or an inexpensive one that you can designate for popcorn purposes only is a good idea. I find the splattering oil creates a bit of a film.

This comes from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, a great bible of a cookbook for which a revised, 10th anniversary edition has recently been released. Bittman says this will serve four to six people but I suppose that depends on how much popcorn you eat!

Real Popcorn

2 tablespoons neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn

1/2 cup popping corn

4 tablespoons butter 

Salt

1. Put the oil in a large, deep saucepan (6 quarts or so) with a lid. Turn the heat to medium, add three kernels of corn, and cover.

2. When the three kernels pop, remove the lid and add the remaining corn. Cover and shake the pot, holding the lid on. Cook, shaking the pot occasionally, until the popping sounds stops, after about five minutes. (Note: Just as with microwave popcorn, the threshold between unburnt and burnt is miniscule, so use your ears and your nose carefully!) Meanwhile, melt the butter.

3. Turn the popcorn into a large bowl; drizzle with the butter and sprinkle with salt while tossing the popcorn. Serve immediately if possible; popcorn is best hot. 

Easy, right? If you're feeling more adventurous, you can add chopped fresh herbs, fresh ground pepper or curry or chili powder to taste. Bittman also advocates sprinkling a little superfine sugar on your popcorn with the salt for that perfect salty-sweet balance. (Try maple sugar, if you've got some.) Also, he says, try 1/4 cup of very finely grated Parmesan tossed with hot, buttered popcorn

Beats the taste of butter-flavoured oil any day, I say.