Well, it is officially spring on the east coast. (But just watch, as soon as I post this, we will be floating away, and stomping the moisture out of our boots due to a fabled Nor’easter.) Spring has sprung, actually with summer hot on its heels, and it was hot and beautiful in New York this weekend. A sure sign of the warm weather erupting in my neighborhood is Salsa music being played by an ancient ghetto-blaster in the street below my apartment, the Mister Softee ice cream truck cruising endlessly up and down the avenues, and the occasional all-day carnival flowing for blocks and blocks up Broadway.

Now I love a good carnival as much as the next girl. Especially if it has the three C’s. But these carnivals aren’t really the county-fair sort. This city-fied carnival has repeats of vendors selling assortments of tube socks, vats of potions and lotions, brightly colored sarongs, and “Oriental” rugs. And the food is typical street foods peppered with carnival fair: kabobs, crepes, gyros, funnel cakes, enormous spiral sausages, fried Twinkies (!), and in my opinion, the stand-out food of choice: a cob of steaming hot, grilled corn doused in melted butter with a liberal sprinkling of salt.

What can I say, it’s a standout of simplicity hidden among tables laden with fried foods and not-too-subtle spices. And this corn reminds me of what’s to come: summer with its muggy, hot days, and long nights; juice from that Georgia peach dribbling down my chin; and when it’s too hot to even think of turning on the stove, salads, lots of crisp, sprightly salads. I’m not even sure where this corn came from, really it’s a little too early in the season for this starchy vegetable, but walking away from the carnival, the sun beating down on neck, creating the first signs of an oh-so-attractive farmer’s tan, and munching on my cob, I didn’t really care.