Cynthia L. Eppley 11/19/2020
Cornbread and Buttermilk
I’ve been on a baking spree recently, baking cornbread. Now, I love cornbread as much as the next person, but this has a background.
A recipe was posted online that was from a Grandmother. It was a family favorite and often requested.
It beat out homemade rolls and bread.
And the love of the recipe was handed down from generation to generation.
There is a special bond between mothers and daughters. If you are fortunate, you have been nurtured and loved. A mother’s guidance and character have poured into you intentionally, and even more, unintentionally.
“Her children arise and call her blessed.” Proverbs 31:28
As I’ve been making my cornbread, I’ve thought a lot about my own mother. She loved cornbread.
She showed me how to put a bit of oil in each muffin pan, and pop it in the oven to melt. Then we poured in the batter. It rose with a crown and a golden crusty finish.
The aroma filled the kitchen. Creamery butter awaited.
My mother also had a cast iron mold for cornbread.
Because Mom was from the South, Oklahoma to be exact, cornbread was cherished.
But let me get back to the recipe. I’ve learned over the years to substitute plain milk if you don’t have buttermilk on hand. Simply take 1 cup of milk and add 2 Tb of vinegar and stir.
Pop it into the microwave and Voila! Instant buttermilk.
But you see: this latest baking binge was for a project.
And I wanted the recipe to be “just right” so buttermilk was purchased.
Mom loved buttermilk.
When she used it, she always reserved a glass for dinner.
As I pulled the pans of cornbread from the oven, the aroma was intoxicating.
And I noticed the bread was raised high; much higher than the other pans I had made. Curious.
It tasted the same, but the texture was so much better!
Light and fluffy! What had made the difference? The buttermilk.
The is the first of the major holidays this year: Thanksgiving and Christmas. And I’ve noticed a lot of people are posting how they miss their mothers. For one friend, this is the first holiday without Mom. Her daughter is missing her grandmother.
One of my favorite books in counseling was “Motherless Daughters” by Hope Edelman. There are so many of us without mothers. And we miss them.
“That feeling of “I want my Mom” has no age limit, no time limit, and no distance limit.”
Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. As always, anniversaries are hard.Grief and Loss During the Holidays
I miss her so. “I want my Mom” has never been more true. I will never learn to like buttermilk.
But I so appreciate it now more than ever before.
And somehow, I think Mom might be smiling and saying:
“Sometimes the tried and true ways are best. And sometimes, Mom does know best.”