The turning of the seasons toward chilly weather always draws me closer to my happy practice of baking. I found myself recently getting curious about cornbread, which I had not made in quite awhile. Checking my Joy of Cooking for ideas I found they listed recipes for both northern cornbread and southern cornbread, adding to my curiosity. I posted a quick question to Facebook, where I am blessed to be connected to a wide spectrum of gardening bloggers (and cooks) from across the country (and world, in actuality), many in Southern states, asking if, in fact, Southerners still bake cornbread in a skillet. The quick response was YES, they do, with the implication that unless it’s baked in a skillet, it’s not regarded as authentic. So I took that to heart and whipped up the bread pictured above. And it was a rousing success and lasted longer than I expected it to. Here’s what I did:

Southern Cornbread

I preheated the oven to 450º F. I oiled a 9″ skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil. Then I whisked together:

1 3/4 C. cornmeal [Note: Southerners prefer white cornmeal if it’s to be really authentic.]
1 T. sugar [Note: There are Southerners who insist on no sugar.]
1 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1 t. salt

Then, in a second bowl I whisked 2 large eggs (organic, always) and 2 C. of buttermilk.

Then, unbelieveably, you simply add wet ingredients to dry and whisk minimally. Pour batter into the skillet, pop in the oven and pull out when the top is slightly brown and the center is firm. This takes simply 20-25 minutes. How easy is that??

Now, in the light of the frigid weather Northern California is experiencing, it occurred to me that today might be an excellent day to revisit northern cornbread, which I have made in the past. Here’s how that goes:

Northern Cornbread

Preheat the oven to 425º F. Oil a muffin pan with a bit of olive oil. Then whisk together:

1 1/4 C cornmeal [Northerners use yellow cornmeal.]
3/4 C. unbleached white flour
2 T. sugar
2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt

In a second bowl whisk together 2 large organic eggs, 2/3 C. milk and 2/3 C. buttermilk.

Stir the wet ingredients into the dry, again mixing minimally.

Then fold 3 T. unsalted melted butter into this batter. You can do this quickly. You don’t want to overmix cornbread batter.

Spoon the batter into the muffin tins.

Place in the oven only 10-12 minutes. Remove from oven. I ran a knife around each to pop out of the muffin tin. Place in a lovely cloth in a basket and serve hot with butter.

I find either of these recipes a wonderful addition to the holiday table. Classic and time tested goodness. Enjoy!

Love and kitchen blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

Book News: Good news. The winter issue of GreenWoman Magazine is sporting an excerpt from Plant Whatever Brings You Joy and we’ve just been advised that GreenPrint Magazine, out of North Carolina, will also be soon publishing an excerpt as well. Also exciting is that a number of new reviews have been posted to our American Amazon.com page, including a wonderful review by Chel Michelene, one of Amazon’s top reviewers! It is deeply gratifying that nearly all our reviews are 5-star! Please consider giving a copy of Plant Whatever Brings You Joy to your favorite gardener! Thank you!

Posted on December 8th, 2013 by Kathryn
Filed under: People at Life | 4 Comments »

Dearest Readers:

The following is one of my favorite stories from my book Plant Whatever Brings You Joy, illustrating the chapter (and lesson) titled “Invest in Trees”. To some of you this story will be new. Some of you may recall having read before. The feedback I get from readers is that they continue to reread my book and enjoy the stories once again, for which I feel blessed. And I myself have that experience, of discovering my book again and again. Amazing, but true. I invite you to read and enjoy, and to contemplate what the “trees” and traditions are in your own life, and how you enliven and honor them annually.

Love and blessings,
Kathryn xoxoxo

My daughter was making her first journey to Appalachia! And
knowing we would not see each other that Christmas I leapt at the
chance to create a holiday with her in October. Fortunately Halloween
is one of my favorite holidays of the year, upon which I could readily
build, with vast support from the magnificent changing of leaves in a
North Carolina fall.

I called a tree farm outside Asheville inquiring if he had “anything that
looked like a Christmas tree”. Puzzled, he asked why. “Do you really want
to know?” I responded, grinning into the phone. He did. I explained that
my daughter was coming, that it was her first trip to North Carolina,
that I did not anticipate seeing her that Christmas, and that I wanted to
make us a pumpkin tree. This man knew how to hear a mother’s heart.
Clearly touched, he invited me to come out, even though it was a wholesale
business, and he would “find me something”. I drove myself out into the
country with my dog, and eventually spotted the long red gate he had given
me as a landmark. I pulled through the gate and found myself entering a
magical environment of all manner of trees in pots. I had never been to
such a tree farm before, and I was instantly enchanted. When I exited
from the car a warm young man came out to greet me, anticipating who
I was. He indicated I should follow him and I followed his lead through
pots and pots of trees, about which I could scarcely contain my curiosity,
until we stopped before what appeared to be some kind of small and
noble cedar. I felt strangely comfortable with its green upward spiraling
flat branches. It was a narrow tree, about five and a half feet high, and he
called it an arborvitae. “Tree of life,” I smiled excitedly. “I’ll take it!” When
I arrived home I wetted it down, then brought it inside (promising the
tree it was only for a few days) and began the joyful task of wrapping
smiling round pumpkin lights about its limbs, then topping it off with
a long strand of shiny red and gold tiny autumn leaves. I plugged in the
pumpkin lights and stood back to admire my creation: A Pumpkin Tree!
I grinned with glee and anticipation of my surprise. A couple of welcoming
gifts wrapped in orange and gold papers with Halloween stickers
strategically placed about the packages finished off the project. When
Antonia arrived, tired from the long journey, the tree stood in a living
room corner in shining festive welcome and as she spotted it, her weary
face broke into a broad grin. I was so tickled, so pleased.

So now I own two trees. My ginkgo and a Western Red Cedar, as
it turns out, which, curiously, really belongs in the Pacific Northwest.
Nomadic as I am known to be, I am the owner and caregiver of two
trees, who will now make their way with me in my travels. Somehow
they give me great comfort. I fantasize, and have spoken with family
members about placing these trees in our family cemetery plot. Here
lie my greatgrandmother and greatgrandfather and grandmother and
greataunt, and a bevy of cousins are buried nearby, throughout the small
town cemetery. The plot was purchased over one hundred years ago for
us by my greatgrandfather, a true investment in a longterm proposition,
which is, in fact, what a tree is about. One day perhaps I will be buried
there and my body, first purified in the grace of fire, will become part of
these trees I nurture, who in return nurture me.

The trees in my life are not all physical and recognizable trees.
There are the traditions, maintained devotedly year to year, creating
the substance of family memories on which we hang our lives. Chai on
Christmas morning. Gingerbread and popovers and the familiar ornaments
that carry their special memories year after faithful year. Graves
tended. Birthdays honored. Scrapbooks and photo books marking the
passages of life. A wedding veil passed from grandmother to daughter
to sister to grandchild. Stories long told from generation to generation,
each word repeated faithfully as it was first heard by a grandchild or
greatgrandchild. Such is the stuff of families, the roots of which go long
and deep before us.

Who and what are the proverbial trees in your life to which you make
the faithful annual pilgrimages? What does the honoring of these longheld
traditions give in return? How does change or turning away from them
affect your heart and soul? How can they be maintained, tended, and
cared for in a world that will not stand by waiting for us, but catapults
us further into a future we cannot predict, that we cannot count on to
stay the same? What will you take in your hand, your heart, your being
to sustain you on this ever-changing road, the trees of your life that lend
substance, courage, strength, rootedness, and meaning?

Book News: If you enjoyed this story, you might want to consider purchasing the book Plant Whatever Brings You Joy on Amazon! 🙂

Posted on October 18th, 2013 by Kathryn
Filed under: Excerpts from Plant Whatever Brings You Joy | 4 Comments »