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Cornbread -- The Recipe I Baked While I Waited

Destiny took her LCSW licensure exam on Wednesday morning. She texted me at eight forty-five from the parking lot of the testing center: "Going in. Love you." I sent back what I always send when there is nothing else to say: the hands folded in prayer and the red heart. Then I went to the kitchen and made her grandmother's sweet potato pie — not because she would see it immediately, not because it was anyone's birthday, but because sometimes the body needs to be doing something purposeful while the mind is waiting.

She was in the exam for four hours. I know this because she told me the duration in advance and I clocked every one of those four hours in ways I probably shouldn't admit. I cleaned the kitchen, which was already clean. I dead-headed the plants on the back porch. I started a pot of gumbo that I had not planned to start. The gumbo takes a long time to make properly and a long time was what I needed.

She texted at one-fifteen: "Done. Don't know yet." Results take up to two weeks for this exam and she said she was going home and sleeping for four hours and she would call me when she woke up. She called at six o'clock and she sounded steady — the steady of a person who has put something down that was very heavy and is now standing without it for the first time. She said she felt good about some sections and uncertain about others. I told her I had no doubt. She said, I know you don't, Mama. And the way she said it was not dismissive but receiving — she took it in. That matters.

I ate the gumbo for dinner. I ate the sweet potato pie for dessert. Both were ready at the exact same time, which I am choosing to take as a sign.

That gumbo I mentioned — I did not plan it, and I certainly did not plan to make cornbread alongside it, but somewhere between dead-heading the plants and watching the clock, a pan of cornbread became the obvious next thing. It is the kind of recipe that does not require you to think too hard, which is exactly what I needed on a day when thinking was already doing too much on its own. If you are ever in the business of waiting on someone you love to do something hard, I recommend having a hot pan and some cornmeal nearby.

Cornbread

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 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
  • 1 cup whole milk
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted (plus more for greasing pan)
  • 1/4 cup sour cream

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Generously butter a 9-inch cast iron skillet or an 8x8-inch baking pan and place it in the oven while it preheats so the pan is hot when the batter goes in.
  2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
  3. Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the milk, eggs, melted butter, and sour cream until smooth.
  4. Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined. Do not overmix — a few lumps are fine and will keep the cornbread tender.
  5. Bake. Carefully remove the hot pan from the oven and pour the batter in — it should sizzle slightly at the edges. Bake for 22 to 25 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the cornbread rest in the pan for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve warm alongside gumbo, soup, or anything else that is asking for it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 230 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 280mg

Loretta Simms
About the cook who shared this
Loretta Simms
Week 317 of Loretta’s 30-year story · Birmingham, Alabama
Loretta is a fifty-six-year-old pastor's wife in Birmingham, Alabama, who has been feeding her church and her community for thirty-four years. She lost her teenage son Jeremiah in a car accident, and she cooked through the grief because that is what Loretta does — she feeds people. Every funeral, every homecoming, every Wednesday night supper. If you are hurting, Loretta will show up at your door with a casserole and she will not leave until you eat.

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