Garufa, what a kind and generous comment. I humbly thank you.
I make cornbread today, A LOT, because it does bring me enjoyment. The memory of growing up in a house in Chattanooga so cold my mother and I sat in the kitchen on winter nights using the oven to heat us before we ran as fast as we could to the back bedroom to jump under covers so heavy you thought they would smother you. But so WARM!
I made a pot of pinto beans last week and a cake of cornbread along with some turnip greens from the freezer. As my wife and I ate I told her stories of my mother and my youth, and we smiled. And I shed a few tears. There was a simplicity then that I miss today. Life was not "us against them"; didn't matter who was Democrat or Republican; we just wondered how they were doing with their burdens and prayed for them Yes, there are smiles when I think of my past and how at 67 years of age, I find great meaning.
So for Mom's recipe, here's the best I replicate:
2 cups of stone ground cornmeal - white or yellow; whatever we could get
1 tsp. of soda and baking powder
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs
Buttermilk - as much as was needed to make the mix not too thin, but pourable
Bacon grease - LOTS of bacon grease; for the pan and the recipe
Mom would get the bacon grease so hot in the skillet in the oven (400 degrees) and she would add a little bit of Crisco or Hormel lard. When she opened the oven and threw a few drops of water in the skillet that it popped loudly, she would bring out the skillet with all the grease and pour it into the cornmeal batter. You knew it was enough and right when it sizzled loudly! Mom would mix it up, pour it back into the skillet and put it all back in the oven for about 45 minutes. Because the iron skillet was perfectly seasoned the cake of bread would plop out perfectly and I'd have to wait for it to cool before Mom would cut a slice and split it with butter. And from that moment, absolute heaven in your mouth.
I am shedding a tear or two as I write this. Mom died in 2017 and to recall her cornbread with all of you brings me great joy.
Thank you . . .