Maryland Corn Pops

January 2028. New year. I'd been watching Hannah carefully for the last few months because she'd been talking about an idea she'd been developing for longer than I'd realized. She works in food marketing—has for years, the kind of work that connects food producers to markets and tells the story of what food is and where it comes from. She'd been thinking about whether there was a business she could build that did that specifically for Indigenous food producers in Oklahoma.

In January she brought it to me directly. She said she'd been working on a business plan with a woman named Denise who she'd met through Lily's research network. Denise was Choctaw, had a background in agricultural economics, and the two of them had been meeting quietly for six months developing what they were calling Elohi Foods—an Indigenous food business development organization that would help traditional producers access markets, tell their stories properly, and build sustainable revenue from what they were growing and making.

She said they were going to apply for a Cherokee Nation business development grant in March. She said she'd need a letter of support from someone who was actively practicing traditional food production and had a relationship with the kind of producers they wanted to work with. She asked if I would write it. I said I'd write more than a letter if she needed it. I said I'd been waiting for something like this to exist.

She got a little emotional, which she does not do often. She said Danny would have wanted this. I said I know. I said go build it.

Corn has always meant something specific in this part of the world—it’s not just an ingredient, it’s a lineage. When Hannah asked me to write that letter of support, the first thing I did after she left was go into the kitchen and cook with the dried corn I’d been putting up since fall, because that’s how I process things that matter. These Maryland Corn Pops aren’t a traditional dish, but they’re built on the thing that is most traditional, and right now that feels exactly right—honoring what’s been growing here for centuries while stepping into something new. Make them for a crowd, or make them just for yourself on the night something finally starts to happen.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels (thawed if frozen)
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup fine cornmeal
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1/3 cup whole milk
1 1/2 teaspoons Old Bay seasoning
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/3 cup sharp cheddar cheese, finely shredded
2 tablespoons fresh chives, finely chopped
Vegetable oil, for frying (about 1/2 inch depth in pan)
Sour cream or hot sauce, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Mix the batter. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, Old Bay, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Add the egg and milk and stir until a thick batter forms. Fold in the corn kernels, cheddar, and chives until evenly distributed.
Heat the oil. Pour vegetable oil into a large heavy-bottomed skillet to a depth of about 1/2 inch. Heat over medium-high heat until a small drop of batter sizzles immediately on contact, about 350°F.
Fry the pops. Working in batches, drop heaping tablespoons of batter into the hot oil, gently pressing each one into a rough round. Do not crowd the pan. Fry 2 to 3 minutes per side, until deep golden brown and cooked through.
Drain and season. Transfer finished corn pops to a wire rack set over a baking sheet or a plate lined with paper towels. Season lightly with a pinch of extra salt while still hot.
Serve. Arrange on a platter and serve immediately with sour cream, hot sauce, or your preferred dipping sauce on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Maryland Corn Pops — The Year We Said Go Build It