Banana-Nut Cornbread

November 2022. Fall in Memphis, and I am 64, walking the neighborhood in my light jacket, watching the leaves turn on the oaks and maples that line Deadrick Avenue. The smoker is happy in fall — the cooler air holds the smoke lower, keeps it closer to the meat, and the results are always a shade better in October than in July, as if the season itself is a seasoning.

Marcus and Angela in Whitehaven, building their family, their house full of the sounds I remember from our own early years — a baby's laugh, a spouse's voice, the daily music of people learning to live together. Naomi growing with the speed of childhood, each visit revealing a new word, a new capability, a new expression that catches my breath because it echoes someone I lost.

I made cornbread in the cast iron skillet — buttermilk, cornmeal, bacon drippings, the recipe that goes back to Mama and before Mama to her mama and before that to wherever the tradition began. Baked at 425 until golden and crusty, the edges dark and lacy, the center soft and crumbling. Some weeks cornbread is enough. Some weeks the simplest food is the most profound.

The week ended on the porch with Rosetta, the evening settling over Orange Mound, the smoker cooling in the backyard. The fire was banked but not out — it's never out, just resting between cooks, holding the heat the way I hold the tradition: carefully, permanently, with the understanding that what Uncle Clyde gave me is not mine to keep but mine to pass, and the passing is the purpose.

That cast iron skillet has been on my mind all week — the way it holds heat the way memory holds the people we’ve lost, the way it just gets better the longer you use it. When I slid that pan of cornbread into the oven at 425, I thought about Mama and her mama, and about Naomi someday standing in her own kitchen, doing the same. This Banana-Nut Cornbread felt like the natural next step: all the comfort and warmth of that cast iron tradition, with a little something extra — ripe bananas, toasted nuts — that makes it your own while still honoring where it came from. That’s what Uncle Clyde always said the tradition was for.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 cup yellow cornmeal
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 ripe bananas, mashed (about 3/4 cup)
2 large eggs
3/4 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted (plus extra for the skillet)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans, toasted

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Place a 10-inch cast iron skillet in the oven while it preheats — a hot skillet gives you those dark, lacy edges that make Southern cornbread what it is.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, stir together the mashed bananas, eggs, buttermilk, and melted butter until smooth and well blended.
Bring it together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir just until combined — a few lumps are fine. Fold in the toasted nuts. Do not overmix, or the cornbread will be tough.
Season the skillet. Carefully remove the hot skillet from the oven and add a small pat of butter, swirling to coat the bottom and sides. The butter should sizzle immediately.
Bake. Pour the batter into the hot skillet and return it to the oven. Bake for 22–25 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The edges should be dark and crisp.
Rest and serve. Let the cornbread rest in the skillet for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve warm, straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Banana-Nut Cornbread — The Cast Iron Skillet That Carries Everything Forward