Nine years. Four hundred and sixteen weeks. I have been writing this blog for nine years, which is longer than both of my granddaughters' marriages combined, longer than some of my grandchildren have been alive, and almost as long as the cast iron skillet has been in continuous daily use, which is ninety years and counting and which will outlast me and everything I've ever cooked on it, and that is fine because the skillet is not sentimental — it just keeps seasoning.
Year nine in review: Monique married James Carter. Andre graduated from Georgia Southern and started working the docks. My knee was replaced and rebuilt and graduated from physical therapy. The Lowcountry boil fed two hundred and seventeen people on the old knee's last shift. Earl's cane was picked up and put away. Gladys's cobbler was defeated again. Nola was born in Atlanta. Kayla got promoted. Kayla got pregnant. Kayla scared us. The baby — Michael Devon Brooks — is fine, growing, kicking, due in October. The watermelon is growing. The garden produced. The family expanded. The empty chair at the table remained occupied by absence, which is its own kind of presence.
Nine years of this blog. Nine years of shrimp and grits and collard greens and fried chicken and cornbread and the stories that go with them. Nine years of standing at this stove and telling you about the food that holds my family together and the losses that tried to pull us apart and the meals that said, "No. We're staying. We're eating. We're here."
I am sixty-nine years old. I will be seventy in September. Seventy. Seven decades. I have been alive for seven decades, cooking for nearly six of them, writing for you for almost one, and the writing has become as necessary as the cooking — the writing is how I cook for people I'll never meet, the writing is how I set a place for you at my table, the writing is how I say, "Here, baby, eat," to someone in Memphis or Denver or wherever you are reading this, wherever you are hungry, wherever you need someone to tell you that the food matters and the love is real and the table has room.
Made shrimp and grits tonight. Year nine. Same dish. Same kitchen. Same woman, older, wider, with one titanium knee and a great-grandchild on the way named after her dead son. Same grits. Same shrimp. Same butter. Same love. Different year. Same truth: feed people. That's all it ever was.
Now go on and feed somebody.
Shrimp and grits anchored tonight, same as it always does — but the drummies I threw on the grill for the grandchildren earlier this week are the ones I keep thinking about, because that is the other side of feeding people: the food that does not need ceremony, the food that says come here and eat and stop being far away for a minute. With Nola barely months old in Atlanta and Michael Devon still on his way, I need recipes that travel well in spirit, that I can picture Kayla making when she gets her strength back, that are simple enough to hand off and still taste like they came from somewhere. These drummies — glazed, sticky, good — are exactly that kind of food.
Grilled Glazed Drummies
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min (plus 1 hr marinating) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 lbs chicken drummies (drumettes or small drumsticks)
- 1/3 cup honey
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 2 tablespoons ketchup
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1 tablespoon neutral oil (vegetable or canola), for grill
- Chopped fresh parsley or green onion, for garnish
Instructions
- Make the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together honey, soy sauce, brown sugar, ketchup, apple cider vinegar, garlic, smoked paprika, black pepper, salt, and red pepper flakes if using. Reserve 1/4 cup of the glaze separately for basting at the end.
- Marinate the drummies. Place chicken drummies in a large zip-top bag or shallow dish. Pour the remaining glaze over the chicken, turning to coat evenly. Seal and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to overnight for deeper flavor.
- Prepare the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan to medium heat (about 375—400°F). Lightly oil the grates with a folded paper towel dipped in neutral oil.
- Grill the drummies. Remove chicken from marinade, letting excess drip off. Discard used marinade. Arrange drummies on the grill in a single layer. Grill for 20—25 minutes total, turning every 5 minutes, until cooked through and nicely charred in spots.
- Glaze and finish. In the last 5 minutes of cooking, brush drummies generously with the reserved glaze. Continue grilling, turning once, until the glaze caramelizes and clings to the chicken. Internal temperature should reach 165°F at the thickest part.
- Rest and serve. Transfer drummies to a platter and let rest 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with chopped parsley or sliced green onion. Serve with extra napkins — these are meant to be eaten with your hands.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 620mg