Fried Green Diaspora at Oxford American: Hungry Mother Indeed

I’ve been writing a Southern restaurant column over at Oxford American for the last month or so. My debut column waxes poetic on the cornbread from Hungry Mother in Boston. Click on over and check it out:

In Search of Southern Cooking in America at Large: Corn Bread in Boston

Let’s talk about corn bread for a moment.

When I was growing up, corn bread meant one of two things. If it was a weeknight, and my mom, the daughter of two upstate New Yorkers, was cooking dinner, corn bread meant a side dish made from two boxes of Jiffy, cooked in a cast-iron skillet, and crisped on the edges by a half-stick of butter. If it was a Sunday, and my Georgia-bred dad was cooking, we’d get corn bread from scratch: It had no flour, maybe a touch of sugar for seasoning, and was moistened with buttermilk. Sometimes it would come in cast iron, just like the Jiffy mix; other times he’d bake it off in muffin tins or the corn “finger” molds. This bread was sweet only from the natural sugar in the corn and, instead of holding together like cake, crumbled when sliced. The corn fingers were my favorite, as they had the highest ratio of shattering, buttery crust to tender crumb…

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