There has been little action in my kitchen lately, mostly due to a lingering mystery toothache that was finally taken care of last week (which led to another phantom ache). When one cannot endure much more than hot tea and oatmeal due to a painful sensitivity to cold, making food and eating it is just no fun at all.
There is good news here in this: In a post-dental appointment, numb-faced stupor, I wandered into the only grocery store I had yet to look in and finally found pierogies in Oklahoma City! It only took me four months.
Before all hell broke loose (dentally speaking) and I ended up forking over enough money to a specialist to cover the rest of the year’s car payments, I was able to enjoy a good old-fashioned Southern meal complete with corn spoonbread and fried chicken. I was excited enough to post this on Facebook and immediately learned that spoonbread, like the grunt and sonker, has just as many regional names.
Some of my friends called it corn spoonbread, as did the recipe from Southern Living, but I have been making a bigger-batch version of this stuff for years (a recipe from a woman who grew up in the North Georgia mountains) and calling it corn soufflé. Other names included corn pudding, cornbread pudding, and cornbread casserole. These suggestions come from friends who are from different parts of the country including Kansas, South Dakota, Arizona, and Virginia. No matter what one calls it, we all agree it’s delicious.
Corn Spoonbread(my Southern-style version)
1 package of Jiffy corn muffin mix (8.5 ounces)
1 can cream corn
1 can sweet whole kernel corn (drained)
1 8 oz. container of sour cream or Greek yogurt
½ cup melted butter
2 large eggs
Stir all the ingredients together and pour into a lightly greased 11×7 baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes.
Yep, it’s that easy.
Also, I cannot think about spoonbread without this song popping in my head. Ugh, and now it’s stuck again. A vision of a shirtless Chris Cornell would suffice, but no – I suffer from severe word association, folks. You’re welcome (at least for the vision of a shirtless Chris Cornell).