Easy Fluffy Blender Rolls -- The Cornbread That Carries a Kitchen Forward

The College of Charleston admissions office has acknowledged James's early decision application, which means nothing except that they received it, but which James treats as significant because waiting requires milestones, however minor, to mark the passage of time. "They acknowledged it," he said at dinner. "That means they're reading it." I said, "That means they have it." Robert said, "That means the clock is ticking." We are all, in our own ways, counting down.

I drove to Beaufort this weekend. The visit had a dual purpose: checking on Mama and beginning to sort through the parsonage for the move. Sorting through someone's home while they still live in it is a delicate operation — you are simultaneously respecting their present and preparing for their future, and the two are in constant tension. I started with the kitchen, because the kitchen is where I am most comfortable and because the kitchen items will be the most important things to bring to Charleston.

Mama watched me catalog her kitchen tools — the cast-iron skillets (three, each one seasoned by decades of use), the wooden spoons (seven, all different, each one associated with a specific dish), the mixing bowls (ceramic, from her mother, irreplaceable). She said, "You're making a list." I said, "I'm a librarian, Mama. I make lists." She said, "You're making a list of my life." I said nothing because she was right, and the rightness of it was too heavy for words.

Joy helped by carrying things from one counter to another, which was not helpful in any logistical sense but which was helpful in every other sense, because Joy's willingness to participate is itself a gift. She carried a mixing bowl from the counter to the table and said, "Heavy!" and I said, "That's because it's full of memories," and Joy said, "Memories are heavy?" and I said, "The best ones are."

I made cornbread in Mama's kitchen with Mama's cast-iron skillet — the same skillet that will come to Charleston, that will stand on my stove, that will carry the season of a thousand cornbreads into a new kitchen. The cornbread was perfect. It is always perfect in that skillet, in that kitchen, because some combinations of tool and place and cook produce a perfection that transcends recipe. I cut a square and gave it to Mama and she ate it and said, "That's good, Naomi. That's mine." She meant the recipe was hers. She meant the skillet was hers. She meant the cornbread itself was hers, in the way that all things made with love by someone you taught to make them are yours: not owned but inherited, not possessed but continued.

After cataloging Mama’s kitchen—the three cast-iron skillets, the seven wooden spoons, the ceramic bowls from her mother—I needed to do something with my hands that wasn’t making a list. So I made cornbread. The same cornbread, in the same skillet, the way she taught me. It came out the way it always does in that kitchen: golden, crackly-edged, and heavy with something that has nothing to do with flour. This is the recipe, though the recipe alone won’t explain why it tastes the way it does. Some things you have to inherit.

Mama’s Cast-Iron Skillet Cornbread

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups yellow cornmeal, stone-ground if you can find it
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/3 cups buttermilk
• 2 large eggs
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus 2 tablespoons for the skillet

Instructions

1. Preheat and prep the skillet. Place a 10-inch cast-iron skillet in the oven and preheat to 425°F. Let the skillet heat for at least 10 minutes—a hot skillet is what gives the cornbread its crust.
2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
3. Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk the buttermilk, eggs, and 4 tablespoons of melted butter until smooth.
4. Bring it together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined. Do not overmix—a few lumps are fine and welcome.
5. Grease the hot skillet. Carefully remove the skillet from the oven. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and swirl to coat the bottom and sides. You should hear it sizzle. That sound means everything.
6. Pour and bake. Pour the batter into the hot skillet. It will begin to set at the edges immediately. Return the skillet to the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
7. Cool and cut. Let the cornbread rest in the skillet for 5 minutes before cutting into squares. Serve warm, with butter if you like, though it doesn’t need a thing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg