By Thanksgiving this year. Danny was home from the hospital ten days earlier and he was moving slowly, using the oxygen at a higher setting, but he was at the table. That is the thing I note first: he was at the table. Not the recliner, not the couch, the table. Terry had made posole and tamales — not from Rosa's recipe, from her own version that has been developing in parallel with Rosa's in this family for thirty years, which is slightly different in the chile and slightly richer in the broth and completely right. I made fry bread and grape dumplings and a venison roast braised with winter squash and dried corn.
Caleb came. He is at six weeks out of residential, which means he is beginning to build a new count, and the new count looks different from the first one because he looks different. The cultural practices he is doing — the sweat lodge, the talking circles, the Cherokee language work he has started doing at a community meeting in Tulsa — are doing something visible to the exterior of him. He is more present. He is slower. He uses the right words more often.
Luna, two and three months, sat at the table for the entire meal for the first time — all the way through, no high chair, a booster seat, a full plate of food she ate systematically in her Luna way: one thing at a time, in sequence, each item finished before the next begins. She ate fry bread, and bean bread, and venison, and posole. She tried grape dumplings and found them acceptable. She said "wado" three times during the meal, unprompted, after each course in approximately the right timing. She is doing this correctly and she is two. I told Hannah afterward. Hannah said: "She has been watching you for two years." That is exactly right. She has been watching and she has the whole thing already, somewhere in her, waiting to emerge.
The meal I keep coming back to from that Thanksgiving is the bread. Fry bread, bean bread, cornmeal in every form—it was on every plate at that table, and it was the thing Luna reached for first. These cornmeal pancakes are not fry bread, but they come from the same place in my cooking: corn, simple preparation, something warm you put in the center of the table and let people take what they need. When I make them on a quieter morning, they carry some of that same feeling of everyone being present and accounted for.
Cornmeal Pancakes
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 12 pancakes)
Ingredients
- 1 cup yellow cornmeal
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 tablespoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup milk
- 1/3 cup buttermilk
- 2 large eggs
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- Butter or oil for the skillet
Instructions
- 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, whisk together the milk, buttermilk, eggs, melted butter, and vanilla extract.
- Make the batter. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. A few small lumps are fine—do not overmix. Let the batter rest for 5 minutes so the cornmeal can absorb some of the liquid.
- Heat the skillet. Place a large skillet or griddle over medium heat and add a small amount of butter or oil. The pan is ready when a drop of water sizzles on contact.
- Cook the pancakes. Pour about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake onto the skillet. Cook until bubbles form on the surface and the edges look set, about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and cook until golden on the second side, about 1 to 2 minutes more.
- Keep warm and serve. Transfer finished pancakes to a plate in a low oven (200°F) while you cook the remaining batter. Serve warm with butter, honey, maple syrup, or fruit preserves.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 370 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg