By Guy Smith
New Year’s Day means collards, black eyed peas, and pork. Over the years, I have managed to come up with a pretty good collard recipe (though my wife requests that I cook them outside), and I can stir up some passable black-eyed peas. The cut of pork is negotiable. For years, the thing that I missed the most on New Year’s Day was my mama’s cornbread.
As you know, cornbread, like barbeque, coleslaw, turkey dressing, and bread pudding, has many iterations. Sometimes these are regional or ethnic, often they are experiential, and some might even say genetic. While I like most cornbread and can tolerate pretty much any kind, except that which is ruined with too much sugar, my mother’s cornbread fills my stomach and my soul.
Like much of my mother’s cooking, her cornbread is pretty basic; developed over years of practice, it is meant to be tasty and filling. She learned to cook out of necessity after her mother passed away when she was eleven. Her widowed dad was left to raise the four girls and one son still at home with the help of aunts and friends. Cooking was not a hobby—it was a requirement. After marriage in 1941, and living just outside the town limits of Pelion, cooking continued to be essential. The closest restaurants were a half hour away, and on mill worker and seamstress pay, eating out was an occasional luxury.
Looking back, we were lucky. The big garden out back, and the extended family garden at Grandpa Kyzer’s old home place, provided bushels of fresh vegetables in season and a freezer full of meat in the winter. Our normal supper included a meat selection, several vegetables, often rice (because it is a southern staple and also because Dad didn’t care for potatoes after he consumed and peeled so many during WW2), and on occasion, that warm and delicious cornbread. I’m sure at the time I coveted the
prepackaged, convenient meals that my friends had, but I realize now that I was fortunate to have our healthy, home-cooked fare.
A couple of years back both my sister and I began to experiment, trying to replicate Mama’s cornbread. We each arrived at a recipe that is pretty close to the real deal. I am convinced that mine is more authentic and tastes a tad better. My sister disagrees. Everyone has the right to be wrong. I’m happy to share it with you here. Give it a try. Don’t fret if it cracks or doesn’t flip over exactly right; Mom’s didn’t. Slice it like a pizza and serve it warm, with or without butter is acceptable. I know it won’t
warm your heart like it does mine, but perhaps it will inspire you to take the time to cook with your mom or work on recreating a favorite recipe.
If it passes muster and lands on your supper table, take a moment to thank the Lord and think about a great lady, Virdie Kyzer Smith.
Happy Cooking!
Mama’s Cornbread
1/2 c. cornmeal
1/2 c. self-rising flour
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 egg
1/2 c. water
1/2 c. milk
1/8 c. oil
Gently stir all ingredients together in a bowl, pour into
a greased pan over medium heat. Flip when the top has
bubbles and the edges are brown (like cooking pancakes).
Avoid high heat and don’t rush to flip it; flipping is tricky!
I use a nonstick pan and slide it on to a plate, which I
then use to flip it back into the pan.
