Kitchen Notes: Sour Corn

An Appalachian Treat

The first time I ever had sour corn, it was 2014 and I was bellied up to the bar at Comfort restaurant in Richmond, Virginia where Travis Milton was executive chef. I was on assignment, writing a magazine profile on the chef from Southwest Virginia who shared a compelling story of his Appalachian homeplace through the food he cooked. I watched as he heated a spoonful of bacon fat on the stovetop, adding lacto-fermented corn kernels from a glass jar labeled with masking tape and his chef’s scribble. Warmed and glossy from the bacon fat, the corn arrived in a small bowl with a spoon. The funky tart pops of sweet corn were addictive and comforting at once, unlike anything I’d ever had. The bacon fat added a luxuriousness, a roundness, that stayed with me. It was love at first taste. 

I finished the serving in an instant and am still friends with Travis all these years later. Sour corn binds. Milton now runs Hickory at the Inn at Nicewonder Farm in Bristol, Virginia and does things like chop wood with Padma Lakshmi (season 2, episode 3 btw) and hang out with Alisa Reynolds on Searching for Soul Food (season 1, episode 3).

I called up Travis to talk sour corn, or pickle corn, as some of his relatives call it. 

“Sour corn is such a touchpoint in my life,” says Milton who remembers being served the preserved item from both sides of his family.  His father’s side cut the kernels off the cob and proceeded with fermentation, while his mother’s side kept the corn on the cob, cutting it into quarters, “Long John Silver’s style”, Milton says. When he introduces people to the flavors of Appalachia, Milton says sour corn is the gateway and some of his favorite moments are tied to sharing it with others. Sour corn binds indeed.