Ham and Cheese Puffs

A January gray. The sky low. The trees bare. The kitchen warm. Tuesday feeding was hard this week. We ran short on cornbread because I underestimated the crowd. I will not underestimate again. The crowd ate. Nobody left without a plate, baby.

Calvin preached Sunday on the woman at the well. The church said amen. CJ called from Huntsville. The grandchildren — Caleb (2), Naomi (1) — are well. Shanice sends her love.

Cornbread in the cast iron. Buttermilk. Real cornmeal, not the bag with the sugar in it. Crisp edge. Soft middle. Cornbread is not negotiable, baby.

I went to bed at ten. The kitchen was clean. The day was the day.

The kitchen smelled like garlic and onion all afternoon Wednesday. Calvin came home from his Bible study and stood in the doorway and said, Loretta, what are we eating. I said, baby, you will see. He said, that is a yes from me. He has been saying that for fifty years.

Doris called Thursday. Three times a week, the standard. We talked about Calvin's health. We talked about Harold's health. We talked about the family. We talked about what I was cooking.

My knees were bad this week. I sat between rounds at the stove. The volunteers tried to take the spoon. I would not let them. The spoon is not negotiable, sugar.

Sister Patrice's husband had heart surgery this week. I drove a meal over Tuesday — chicken and rice, cornbread, peach cobbler. She cried at the door. I told her, baby, eat the food. The food was the saying.

I made coffee at five Tuesday morning. Strong, with cream, no sugar (the diabetes). I stood at the kitchen window. The yard was still in dark. The day ahead was the day ahead. I went into it.

Calvin and I watched the news Wednesday evening. He fell asleep in the recliner. I covered him with the afghan that Bernice crocheted before she died. The afghan is holding.

Sunday after service Calvin and I drove past the new sanctuary site. The choir loft windows were going in. We sat in the car and looked. He did not speak. I did not speak. The watching was the prayer.

Mr. Henderson across the street brought me a bag of pecans Friday from his tree. I made a pecan pie with them. I took half of it back to him. He said, Loretta, this is wrong, you took my pecans and gave me back a pie. I said, that is exactly right. That is how it works.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon. The neighborhood was quiet. Mr. Henderson across the street waved. I waved back. The porches are the original social network, sugar. We have been at this since Eden.

A new young wife joined the Saturday cooking class. Twenty-two years old. She does not know how to make rice. I will teach her. The chain extends.

Calvin Jr. called Tuesday night. He was tired. He had been at work twelve hours. I told him, baby, eat something. He said, Mama, I will. I said, what did you eat last. He said, a granola bar. I said, baby, that is not eating. He laughed.

I drove to the grocery Saturday morning. Greens, three pounds. Onions, two big ones. Buttermilk, half gallon. Cornmeal, the good kind. Salt, because I always run out of salt.

Bernice's Table Tuesday. The team was sharp. The food held. The room held.

A young woman from the new members class came to me Sunday. She was nervous. She said, Mother Simms, my husband and I are expecting our first and I do not know how to cook. I said, baby, come to the Saturday class. She said, I'm coming. The chain extends.

When I drove that plate over to Sister Patrice Tuesday — the chicken and rice, the peach cobbler — I thought about what travels well, what holds, what lands warm on a grief-tired table. Ham and Cheese Puffs are that kind of food: small enough to eat standing up, sturdy enough to carry across a street, rich enough to say what your mouth cannot always say. I have been making some version of these for thirty years, and they have never failed to get a yes from a room. Calvin included.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 37 min | Servings: 24 puffs

Ingredients

2 sheets (about 17 oz total) frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 1/2 cups diced cooked ham
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1 egg, beaten
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon dried parsley (optional, for topping)

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
Prepare the filling. In a medium bowl, combine the diced ham, shredded cheddar, Dijon mustard, black pepper, and garlic powder. Stir until evenly mixed.
Cut the pastry. On a lightly floured surface, unfold each sheet of puff pastry and roll gently to smooth the seams. Cut each sheet into 12 equal squares (4 rows by 3 rows), giving you 24 squares total.
Fill and fold. Place a heaping teaspoon of the ham and cheese mixture in the center of each square. Fold the pastry over diagonally to form a triangle, or bring all four corners to the center to form a small packet. Press the edges firmly with a fork to seal.
Apply the egg wash. Whisk together the beaten egg and water. Brush the tops of all puffs lightly with the egg wash. Sprinkle with dried parsley if using.
Bake. Arrange puffs on the prepared baking sheets, spacing about 1 inch apart. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until puffed and deep golden brown. Rotate pans halfway through for even browning.
Cool slightly and serve. Let the puffs rest on the pan for 5 minutes before transferring. Serve warm. They also hold well at room temperature for up to two hours, which makes them right for a delivery or a fellowship table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ham and Cheese Puffs — What I Bring When the Food Is the Saying