|Photo from Flickr|
Me too. :)
In an earlier post I introduced to you to Mrs. P, whom I feel will be a reoccurring character in the stories of my life. If you haven't met her yet, hope over to my post Mrs. P outlived and I'll introduce you to her.
As Mrs.P's caretaker, I...well, care for her! Part of that includes seeing after her nourishment and meals.
On one particularly good day this week, after a rigorous span of house chores, I decided to whip up a good ol' pan of corn bread.
For those of you unfamiliar with this cuisine, google it, then make you some! It's nummy stuff, and common fair here in the Lone Star state.
It didn't take long before that pan of golden goodness was done and tempting my snack-prone tummy. Now, Mrs. P eats like a bird (have you ever pondered how absolutely ridiculous that statement is?! Birds eat at least half of their body weight each day!) anyway...as I was saying...she eats less than a bird, but today! Today she was ready for an afternoon snack!
In true southern fashion, she was going to eat that cornbread....soaked in buttermilk.
Now, fortunately for me, even though I grew up in the north, my daddy was southern and he had introduced me to this little southern treat years before, otherwise I fear it would have been strange indeed to me!
However, since buttermilk has much the same consistency of yogurt, you will understand why I opted for straight milk instead.
Mmmm, mmmm, mmm, that warm, oven fresh cornbread crumbled effortlessly into our tall glasses. As it steamed up the sides of our glasses, we drizzled a bit of honey, then finished it off with a generous helping of milk over top.
A better comfort food, I don't think there eva' was.
Corn bread is a great equalizer, because there, sitting at her kitchen table, our spoons sounding the tink of glass as we feasted, this dear lady seemed to view me not as young, hired help but as friend and fellow women.
Not a chance.