Southern Loving

Y'all know I just love these little doo-dads. 

Good manners: one of the many things Mississippians still do right. 

The Best Ever if You're A Low-Carbie

Diet root beer and cream or half and half (local dairy, please). Y'all, this is a damn root beer float. At least it sure starts to pass as one when you haven't had the real thing in several sad, deprived years.  And even though I'm trying to slowly but steadily ditch my diet soda habit, I'll still have one of these if/when a craving for sweetness starts to eat me alive. Hope you think it's as good as I do!

Y'all Come Back Now!

Photo by Michelle Chasser/Brainchild Theories

Cornbread. Hold the Sugar.

I went to this "Cajun" restaurant once in Massachusetts. I wish there was something more emphatic than quotes to express just how allegedly "Cajun" this place was. I'm not trying to sound snooty, I promise. Ok maybe a little. It's just...Yankees do good lobster. Sorry, "lahbstuh." And it's called Boston Cream Pie for a reason. But the red beans and rice? Negatory. Sweet tea? Nonexistent. And, oh god, sin of sins. 

The cornbread.

Was.

Sweet.

I'll give you a moment to digest that. And have indigestion. And contemplate a bulimic episode. 

Sweet cornbread = corncake. Period. End of story. I'm sorry, I am a good Southerner and I took my oath and on this I cannot budge one single iota. That said, the BEST cornbread I've ever had was my great-grandmama's recipe. Probably my great-great-grandmama's recipe, since that's generally how great-grandmamas came by their recipes back then. Anyhow, it has never met its rival (unless we're talking about YOUR great-grandmama in which case, of course, hers is superior. Commence war of courtesy) 

And now, for the first time ever, I am publishing Granny Morris' Cornbread Recipe on the Internet. For you, dear 10 readers. For you.

So Let's Make Some Damn Cornbread!