[It is cold out. I told the wife I’m fixin’ to s=
tart chili cooking, put some beans in heart-healthy bacon grease, and all I=
needed was cornbread to warm my innards in December in Wisconsin. Found lo=
oking at ways to make cornbread that there was a national divide on the fun=
damentals. One thing led to another, and I found that a blogger from the So=
uth (Sean D – THANK YOU) had just written about cornbread. Worth read=
ing and sharing with you all.]
&nb=
sp;
I don’t engage in controversy. But some=
times I have to. And this is one of those have-to moments.
Namely, because I feel=
it’s my duty as a citizen of this country to bring important matters=
to the forefront of a national discussion. And by “important matters=
,” I am, of course, talking about putting sugar in cornbread.
The other day=
I was reading one of my mother’s favorite magazines. This magazine i=
s a respected publication. A standard in homes across the southeast.
I speak of a=
magazine which my mother reveres. She used to read this magazine aloud at =
Bible studies, baby christenings and baptisms. A periodical which shall rem=
ain nameless, but whose title rhymes with “Louthern Siving.”
The arti=
cle stated, quote, “…The cornbread we consider our best, includ=
es fine yellow cornmeal, butter, and a touch of sugar.”
I read this recipe =
aloud to my mother. My mother nearly choked on her dentures.
“Sugar in corn=
bread?” she gasped. “What’s this world coming to?”
Mama h=
ad to be calmed with cream cheese and pepper jelly.
Listen. I don’t like to=
cause problems, and these are only my opinions, but putting sugar in cornb=
read is a lot like going to church naked. Sure, it can be done. But donR=
17;t expect anyone to ask you over for dinner.
Cornbread is a sacrament to my peo=
ple, often served with fried chicken, pintos, collards, hocks and greens, o=
r stew. It is a savory dish. It’s not supposed to taste like purple S=
kittles.
If the good Lord had intended for humankind to eat sweet cornbread, he w=
ould have given us all insulin pumps.
&=
nbsp;
And yet this problem persists in America.
Only a =
few days ago, I visited a restaurant in Franklin, Tennessee. It was one of =
those fancy joints where waiters and waitresses walk like they’re in =
need of fiber supplementation. The waitress brought me a hot basket of swee=
t cornbread.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to the waitress. “=
;There’s something wrong with my cornbread.”
“What’s wr=
ong?” she said.
“Well, I think the chef spilled a box of Duncan Hines=
into the batter.”
“No, sir. We put sugar in our cornbread.”
“W=
hy would you do such a thing?”
&n=
bsp;
“Because our chef is from Chicago.R=
21;
Fo=
r the love of Earnhardt.
Listen, I try to be a team player. I try to be a good pe=
rson. I don’t have many overdue library books. I stay at the Holiday =
Inn Express when possible. But this is an affront.
The church ladies I descend fr=
om take their food very seriously. My Aunt Muffin went on to tell me there =
are four distinct styles of culinary frying:
There is “deep frying,”=
which is what KFC does; “pan frying,” or “shallow frying=
,” which is how you cook pork chops; “smother frying,” th=
e only way to cook squirrel, rabbit, or quail; and “eternal hell fryi=
ng.”
Which is what happens to all people who put sugar in their cornbread.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin
[email protected] www.grif.net
"Jesus Knows Me, This =
I Love!"