Comfort Food (Watts)

Decent cornbread requires a good recipe, a well-seasoned pan, and a hot oven. 

TRIGGER WARNING: At the risk of losing some readers before I’ve barely warmed up, if it has notes of dessert, I do not call it “cornbread.” I grew up in Kentucky and make mine like my mama did: white cornmeal, buttermilk, no flour, no sugar. (If you were raised on Jiffy mix, I’m sure your mama was doing the best she knew how). I would direct Southern cornbread novices to the easy recipe on a bag of Martha White Self-rising Cornmeal Mix.

Enough about the recipe. Let’s get to the oven and the pan, objective correlatives I will overburden to reflect on life six weeks into stringent observance of social distancing guidelines in the time of Covid-19. 

The hot oven we’ve got: deadly pandemic, social and economic disruption, anguish and grief, existential anxiety, sanitizing protocols for every damn thing that comes into the house, Zoom meetings, YouTube religious services (the Episcopal virtual choir and orchestra, featuring hundreds of vocalists and musicians, redeems virtual worship, at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAyi64eagTI), and the heedless who increase the risk of community spread by overcrowding Lowe’s or playing basketball in the park (or were, until City Parks and Rec took down the hoops).

The pan is about the only thing that’s still in our control. If it’s unseasoned, but it’s all you’ve got, you have to use it just the same. Early batches won’t be nice and brown on the bottom, and the cornbread might stick. Don’t give up! Give it time. Repeated use pays off. (COOKING TIP: Be sure the pan is well-oiled and pre-heated for two minutes before pouring in the batter.)

But even well-seasoned pans have their vulnerabilities. A few years ago, I was preparing to bake an Almond Dutch Baby in my best cast iron skillet. The recipe was a favorite I had gotten from NPR, and the skillet, which had belonged to my paternal grandmother, was seasoned to a fare-thee-well. However, when I was pre-heating the oil in a 475 degree oven, I heard a deep pop. The skillet that had withstood high heat for almost a hundred years had cracked. I had pushed it past its limit—overburdened it then, and, symbolically, maybe now, but you get the point.

If you are like me, when you prepare a recipe written in the hand of the person who shared it with you, it unlocks memories of what that person meant to you, what that person taught you, the part they played in your life, the wisdom they imparted that helped you make sense of difficult times, and what you received from them that you have passed along to others. That has been a common occurrence for me these past weeks. 

And so I dedicate this blog post to F.J. Gammill, the back shop foreman at the Daily Times Leader, in West Point, Mississippi, when I was a fresh-out-of-J-school city editor. F.J.’s daily kindnesses and steadfast dedication to the high calling of the newspaper business inspired and sustained me during my five years there and beyond. In the spirit of paying it forward, here is the recipe for F.J.’s Mexican Cornbread, which he brought to DTL carry-in events, and which continues to nourish me in body, mind, and spirit in these times.

F.J. GAMMILL’S MEXICAN CORNBREAD 

Ingredients:

1 1/4 cups Martha White Self-rising Cornmeal Mix

1 1/2 cups low-fat or regular buttermilk

2 eggs

1/4 cup vegetable oil

I med. yellow onion, chopped

Diced jalapeño peppers, to taste (2-3)

Sm. can or 1/2 regular can cream style corn

8 oz. sharp cheddar cheese, cut in small pieces

Combine all ingredients in a large mixing bowl.

Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Heat 1 TBSP oil in a 9x13 baking pan for 2 min. Remove from oven and tilt pan to evenly cover the bottom of the pan with the oil. Add batter to pan and bake for 45 min. or until cornbread is lightly browned on top. The corners will be darker, which makes them the best pieces. Let sit for 5 minutes before cutting.

Mary Thomas Watts is a veteran journalist, radio comedy writer, and adult theological educator. She lives in Wilmington, Ohio, with her husband, Chuck, who likes Jiffy cornbread, and their dog, Eudora.