Mama's Cornbread

Don't you want some cornbread? I thought so. Every southern food book I've ever read (and that has been a few, believe me) shares memories of their mama's cornbread. In the south, cornbread usually means unsweetened cornbread baked in a sizzling hot skillet. Super sweet cornbread baked in a pyrex pan was cake not cornbread. If my Mamaw had set a plate of that down in front of my Papaw he would have thrown it out to his hound dog. No offense to lovers of yankee cornbread but "real" cornbread is a serious thing in the south, impostors could be shot!

My Mama is famous for her cornbread. I love love love it and must have it at least once a week. Her crispy, buttery cornbread is one of the only things I have a deep craving for year round. It goes with everything, beans, soup, salad, butter, anything really. I make it for breakfast sometimes and there is never a crumb left. Now I make two pans of it so everyone can have plenty. Made with fresh ground cornmeal and flour, you can't beat it for a healthy quick bread.

I will now ask my Mama to look aside while I tell you that I have slightly modified her recipe to fit my cooking so it's not her exact recipe. Honey instead of sugar, fewer eggs and less butter. Okay Mama, you can look back. So get out your skillet and let's make a pan (pone as Mamaw used to call it) of cornbread.

The first step is to preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Set your iron skillet in there to heat up too. A hot skillet is the secret to good crusty cornbread. Measure a cup of flour, cup of cornmeal, 1 tablespoon baking powder and a teaspoon of salt into a large bowl. Stir it to mix all your dry ingredients together.

Enlist a handy kid to mix up 1 and 1/4 cup of milk, 2 eggs and 1 tablespoon of honey in a measuring cup or small bowl. If there are no handy kids, just beat it together yourself. All the same and you probably have cleaner hands. I hope so anyway.

When your oven and iron skillet are good and hot, set the skillet out on your stove and melt 2 tablespoons of real butter in it (Don't you like my square pan? It was Grandma's.). Pour the wet mixture into the dry and give it a few stirs, then pour the melted butter quickly into the batter. Stir it up to mix the butter in. Be sure to not burn yourself with the skillet, it's super hot! Pour the batter into the skillet.

Can you see what's happening? Look at the edge of the skillet and see how the batter is foaming up. It is searing in the hot skillet and that is what gives you the magical golden crust. Bake it for 20 minutes in your hot oven and then flip it out onto a big platter. Flipping it out of the pan is a bit of a trick, I still catch myself holding my breath every time I turn do it. Just have faith and go for it.

Then all that's left is to cut it up and serve wedges or squares of hot golden goodness to all the lucky people sitting around your table. You'll be glad you did.

Friday Photo

My Mamaw was a lover of figurines. Porcelain, blown-glass, wooden, all kinds, shapes and sizes filled her bookshelves and window sills. They adorned her dresser and mantel. They overflowed to her greenhouse and the building we called the pump house though it didn't contain any pump I ever knew of. When she passed away I chose from her collection this small china angel that I always played with as a child. I love that it has her name, June, on it. This week it took a spill and the tip of her wing broke off. As I was inspecting the wing I noticed it had been glued in that same spot years ago by my Mamaw. It made me smile to think of her carefully repairing the little angel and gently setting her back in her spot after the glue dried. Maybe Papaw with his years of jewelry repair helped her fit it back together just so. He had a knack for fixing delicate things. So the sweet angel sits on my kitchen window sill patiently waiting for me to dig out my glue and re-attach her wing then gently set her back in her spot. I miss my Mamaw.

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Candy making has been a part of Christmas in my family since the very beginning. Pecan Pralines and my mom's Chocolate Fudge are just about as important as the Christmas tree. Every year I try out a few new recipes, so far I have whipped up Nutella Fudge, Peppermint Bark and Peanut Butter Bars. I highly recommend them all.

When I was young, we were always at my Mamaw's house. They had some dear friends named Mr. Dick and Mrs. Norma. Among other talents like quilting and sewing and training award winning bird dogs, they were unbelievable candy makers. For the 55 years of their marriage, they made at least a dozen kinds of homemade candies together every Christmas. Their Peanut Butter Balls were known throughout the land, legendary I tell you. So whenever I stir up a batch of Pecan Pralines like I did last week, I always think of Mrs. Norma and Mr. Dick. Then I eat an extra piece in honor of them. Sweet memories!

Easter Dresses and Little Girls

Here are my girls in their one-year Easter dresses. Oh my, they are darling if I do say so myself. And I do, quite often. I took this photograph as soon as we came home from church Sunday to document that I finally finished their Easter dresses, and it only took me one year!

You see, last year months before Easter, I began thinking about their dresses. Mentally I reviewed all the fabric in my stash and when I came to this piece I had a vision of their dresses. This fabric was purchased before they were even born from the $1 per yard rack at a local store. Originally it was going to be something for me but I was nagged by fears of looking like I was wearing a circus tent. So it languished in my fabric stash awaiting it's destiny. When the inspiration struck I immediately bought some soft cotton yarn and started on the little sweaters. Big Sister's sweater is the first one I designed myself! As soon as they were finished (which wasn't very soon) I started cutting out the dresses. The week of Easter they were still in pieces by my sewing machine waiting for an opportunity to be made into little frocks.

Three days before Easter, my sweet Mamaw passed away. She loved Easter so I've always envisioned her cooking a big Easter dinner for Jesus in heaven just after she arrived. So that Saturday, instead of dying eggs, we were driving eleven hours down south for her service. Driving eleven hours with five small children isn't my idea of a good time but we made it. It wasn't until the drive back that I begged my husband to let me out on the side of the road with the baby so I could walk home by myself. I was proud of my perseverance.

Anyway, we quickly got back into the swing of thing with spring and summer flying by and our days were spent enjoying swimming and our cute new baby. Finally, when the realization that Easter was upon us again, I dug out the unfinished dresses and put them together just in time. They still fit the girls and they were delighted with them. They twirled and skipped around, took the sweaters on and off and were generally so ladylike. This photograph is proof of that!

Tea and Tea Cups

Curling up under a quilt with a steaming cup of hot tea and a book has been my antidote to the endless gray skies and cold weather that have inhabited the world outside my windows. In this picture you can see one of my favorite tea cups and also one of the first I had in my collection. When I open my cupboard there are multiple kinds of cups and mugs to choose from, depending on my mood. There are thick old diner mugs, one that is tiny, perfect for enjoying a "half a cup" of coffee. Several are hand thrown pottery mugs including one made by a wonderful friend in her pottery studio. I have a pair of tea cups with matching lids I use for herbal teas. The most special part of my collection though is the set of mismatched tea cups I inherited from my grandmother. She ran the china and bridal registry part of their jewelry shop and at her house she used the extra pieces from the store for her everyday dishes. When I was preparing to set up my own house, she and I went through her "extra", extra pieces and I chose twelve settings of china for my future home. Now that she is gone I love to look at all the beautiful patterns and remember my Mamaw who used fine china to serve every meal because that's what she had. Whoever thought making do could be so elegant? So when I am feeling elegant or missing my grandma I get down the stacks of miss-matched tea cups and saucers and search through them for the perfect one for that day and brew myself a cup of tea. Comfort in a cup!

Tightwad Living: Storage

I am not afraid to call myself a tightwad. Something about that word makes me feel connected to my grandparents and the "depression mentality". Not to say that I dry and save used paper towels and collect the last bits of bars of bath soap like my sweet Mamaw, but I like to come up with creative solutions for problems with what I have on hand. Now, you may recognize this photograph from my true confession about my chocolate hoarding issue. In this photograph you can view two of my favorite Tightwad Storage items. As you can see, I like hot tea. Some of my preferred varieties come as individual packets and I was always annoyed to have a bunch of loose packets or keep a box with only two tea bags in it cluttering up my cabinet. I was also annoyed by this tin jello mold that I loved but didn't use (we eat way more jello than that at a time!) and could find a place for. Thus was born my tea caddy! I love it, when I open this cabinet it makes me happy.

On the next shelf you can see the coffee jar. Personally I avoid caffeine, except for the occasional Dr. Pepper my mother-in-law sneaks me. However, the man around here likes a cup of leaded coffee to start his day so I made this coffee jar for him using an empty peanut jar and some scrapbook paper. Not a solution to a life threatening problem but still it's a little something extra from what I had that makes our home a bit more homey and fun.

I have lots more Tightwad Living ideas to share with you so start collecting up old jars and stray dishes and used paper towels and get ready! It's cool to be a Tightwad!

War Eagle Mill

A few weekends ago, we ventured out to visit one of my favorite places in our state. It's called War Eagle Mill. There is a little something for everyone, an amazing old building, food, history, a river with a spillway, and lots of rocks to throw in the water. That cover the major interests of everyone in our family so a trip to War Eagle makes everyone happy. I'll let you guess which parts I like the best. The drive out there is beautiful with windy mountain roads and fabulous views. As you approach the mill you cross over an old one lane bridge and from there you get the best view of the water wheel. This is one of the only operating grist mills left in the country and the history of the place is quite an education. Three times the building has been destroyed and rebuilt. The current owners run the mill, a large store and on the third floor, a restaurant called the Bean Palace. That name just makes me happy.

On the first floor is where the flour, cornmeal, jams, jelly, honey and other things are sold. All the flour and cornmeal is packaged in cotton prints that really add to the charm of the store. I bought a 10 pound sack of yellow corn meal for myself after Big Sister chose the flour sack material she preferred. She has a collection of flour sacks from War Eagle that she uses alternately for doll beds and bags. After she viewed all the choices she settled on a pink flowered stripe pattern. That girl knows her fabric!

Here is a view of Baby and the mill. The corn falls down in the funnel shaped thing and the grindstones are underneath it. The big wheel in the background is powered by the belt that runs down below to the waterwheel. It's pretty loud in there when it's running but the kids love it. They have displays of different grains and what the flour they each make.

This is a side view of the mill. You see the funnel thing with the corn in it? Well, below that on the floor is a gray box that collects all the cornmeal. And this is no ordinary cornmeal. When you pick up a pinch of it you can feel different size pieces in it. Cornbread made from this is something to write home about, as my Mamaw would say. Around here, we use it for baking and for making big pots of cheese grits. Creamy with a little bite to it, my kids devour it!

Head up the worn wooden stairs, I love worn treads on stairs, and you find a whole different shop. Up here they sell pottery, enameled dishes and pans, cast iron, wooden toys and trinkets, jewelry, quilts and other odds and ends. The kids always love the miniature cooking utensils and of course the boys love the pocket knife display.
These polished rocks are a favorite to dig into and find a special stone. My mom is a rock collector so whenever I see all those colors I think of her.
Here is Little Sister looking out the window at the water wheel and the river. She was busy running from one thing to the next in complete amazement. Almost wore her Grandma out.
Outside you can see the water wheel up close. I love the moss that grows on it when it is not being used. Speaking of that, I have only been there one time when the wheel wasn't turning and grinding corn. Big Brother pointed out the DANGER sign to me as he poked his head through the bars to get a better view. Thanks!
When you go down below the bridge to throw rocks in the water, what you say everyone doesn't go down and throw rocks in the water? Tell that to my boys! Anyway, when you are down there you can really get a feel for the size of the wheel. That thing is big! You can also get a feel of the spray from 30 feet away. All in all, it's just about my ideal day trip, rock throwing included.

New Southern Iced Tea

One of the things my "Mamaw" June was famous for was her iced tea. The tall Wexford glass, beaded with condensation, looked innocent enough but the elixir it held would put hair on your chest, as my dad would say. I know, a lovely image. She made it by the gallon in a pottery pitcher that had belonged to her mother-in-law and now belongs to me. In my minds eye I can see her measuring the loose tea leaves into her Corning Ware carafe to boil and steep for 20 minutes, then straining it into the pitcher to await the copious amounts of pure white sugar.

Anytime of day you could enjoy a glass of her tea whether you were her granddaughter there for the week or a neighbor dropping in for a visit on a steamy summer afternoon. No other drink signals summer for me like sweet tea. At my house we drink tea a few times a week and until this summer the secret of "real" tea eluded me. Unfortunately I can't remember the source but the secret is baking soda. I am pretty sure that Mamaw didn't use any baking soda because I watched her like a hawk whenever she cooked and nary a baking soda box was in sight. But considering that I don't have the magic touch, baking soda has come to the rescue.

In a kettle bring 3 cups of water to a good boil. Meanwhile place 3 quart size tea bags in a quart jar with a generous pinch of baking soda. Pour in the water and cover the jar. Steep for at least 15 minutes. Squeeze the tea bags really well and stir in sugar to taste. I have forsaken my southern heritage on the issue of sweet tea. A scant quarter of a cup is as sweet as I like it and I am sure Mamaw used at least a cup and a half in a pitcher of tea. It had a thickness to it, that is a bit much for me but I'm sure my kids would love it, especially the one who was drinking sugar from a glass. Anyway, stir in your sugar and add the tea to a pitcher, preferably a glass one and pour in 3 cups of cold water. Serve over lots of ice in a tall glass. By the way, I am loving chilling my tea in the vintage carafe shown above. A thrift store find, it makes me happy!