Corn Muffins — The Cornbread That Held Its Own at a Wedding Feast

Travis married Jolene Mitchell on Saturday, April 20, 2019, at three o'clock in the afternoon on a farm outside Richmond, Kentucky, under a sky that couldn't decide between sun and cloud and ended up giving us both, which was appropriate because a Hensley wedding should contain the full weather forecast.

The ceremony was short — fifteen minutes, which is Hensley-approved. Jolene wore a white dress that made Travis cry at the altar, which is the first time I've seen Travis cry since he was eight and stepped on a nail. Jolene's father walked her down the aisle. I stood behind Travis as his best man — Clay's role, officially, but Clay is seven thousand miles away watching on a phone that Amber held at shoulder height for the entire ceremony, which means Amber's arm was asleep by the vows and the footage is slightly tilted but complete.

Clay watched. We could see his face on the screen — small, pixelated, but present. When Travis said "I do," Clay gave a thumbs up from Afghanistan. When the officiant said "You may kiss the bride," Clay whistled, which came through the phone speaker and made the audience laugh because a whistle from a war zone at a wedding is the most Hensley thing that has ever happened at any Hensley event.

The barbecue. Let me tell you about the barbecue. I started the fires at midnight Friday. Two smokers, running simultaneously. Three pork shoulders and two briskets went on by 1 AM. Fourteen hours of fire management through the night and into the afternoon. Travis's buddy Kyle helped — he stayed up with me, feeding wood, monitoring temperature, and not talking because the best company at a midnight fire is quiet company. By two o'clock Saturday, the meat was done. Pulled, sliced, sauced, and loaded into foil pans in warmers. The brisket was right — tender, smoky, the bark shattering. The pork was perfect — twelve hours of hickory smoke, pulled into shreds that glistened with rendered fat and flavor.

Seventy-eight people ate my barbecue at my son's wedding. They ate standing, sitting, dancing, laughing. The brisket went first — always does. The pork went second. The cornbread went third. The coleslaw was Connie's masterpiece, twenty pounds of cabbage transformed into tangy, creamy perfection. Jolene's grandmother brought her banana pudding. Betty couldn't come but she sent sorghum cookies, which I set on the dessert table with a card that said "From Betty Hensley, Evarts, KY" because Betty's name on a dessert table is a brand and a blessing.

At ten o'clock that night, after the dancing and the toasting and the eating and the slow clearing of tables, I sat in a folding chair by the empty smokers and drank a bourbon and watched the stars and thought: I built something today. Not a house. A feast. A meal that seventy-eight people will remember when they remember this day. When they think of Travis and Jolene's wedding, they'll taste brisket and pork and bourbon sauce and the smoke of a fire that burned all night because a father wanted to give his son something he couldn't buy and couldn't say and could only serve on a plate with white bread and pickles.

I’ve talked enough about the brisket and the pork — they get their due. But the thing people kept coming back to the table for, the thing that disappeared quietly while everyone was distracted by dancing, was the cornbread. You need something to hold the sauce, to give your hands something honest to do while you’re standing at a folding table at your son’s wedding trying not to cry. These corn muffins are what I made — simple, a little sweet, with that crumble that soaks up barbecue drippings like it was born to. Scale them up, make two or three batches, and don’t apologize for anything.

Corn Muffins

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 18 minutes | Total Time: 28 minutes | Servings: 12 muffins

Ingredients

• 1 cup yellow cornmeal
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1/3 cup vegetable oil
• 2 large eggs
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (plus more for greasing pan)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Grease a standard 12-cup muffin tin generously with butter or line with paper liners.
2. Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
3. Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the milk, vegetable oil, eggs, and melted butter.
4. Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir just until combined — do not overmix. A few lumps are fine and expected. Overmixing makes tough muffins.
5. Fill the tin. Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full.
6. Bake. Bake for 16–18 minutes, until the tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
7. Cool and serve. Let the muffins rest in the tin for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a rack. Serve warm alongside smoked meats, pulled pork, or anything coming off a fire.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 195 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg