Our dressing started with an iron skillet of cornbread, mixed with onion, sage, and the fatty, golden nectar from boiled turkey or chicken, usually the pieces that would otherwise be thrown away. It was baked until a golden crust formed on the top, leaving the inside firm but creamy. Too dry and it set up like cake. Too wet and it was a watery mess. It had to be perfect, and usually was.
Years ago, I stood in a supermarket, staring at a “stuffing mix” of spices and prepackaged breadcrumbs—tiny, hard little cubes. Mama, I thought, was right again. But when I mentioned that we were having turkey and dressing at my house, my Yankee friends looked confused. You mean, they asked, the stuff you put on salads?
It is a miracle we fought only one war.Rick Bragg, Southern Living
When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary to create a sidedish out of stale bread....
Year after year I've heard he same story about how my grandmother Her-too had to not only stuff the turkey but bake a 9 x 13 pan to feed the family; they had a love affair with "the stuff."
Then Doug, with his Mississippi roots, entered the picture.
He made it clear, and in no uncertain terms, that it had to be Dressing, and more specifically Cornbread Dressing. My mom, willing to try anything, gave it a shot, and it's been dressing ever since.
It's been fun to watch the swapping of recipes between deep south and middle south (yes, Virginia is below the Mason-Dixon line), the staple of green beans & potatoes vs. butter beans & black eyed peas, but I'm with my dad on this one: call it what you will - dressing or stuffing - I'm not going to eat it.
No comments:
Post a Comment