A classic.
Having some wonderful preserves on hand, I decided to bake cornbread for dinner. What to go with it? A plan came about slowly over the day: cornbread and preserves.... with chicken cutlets.... and sweet potato fries. I whipped up a batch of cornbread and put it in the oven, then got busy with the other items. When the oven timer went off, I turned it and the oven off, meaning to take the cornbread out when I had my hands rinsed off from the chicken breading.
We had a lovely meal. The thought of the cornbread, and the preserves it was to showcase, never crossed my mind. It wasn't until bedtime that I remembered this hub, this nucleus, this centerpiece of the meal.
Natch, my inner shrill piped up--this time she had a screeching Irish brogue, tougher to fight off than the Southern drawl. I elbowed her in the teeth and told M. the whole story. We laughed about it.
The cornbread, a very dark brown dry mass, will please the hens tomorrow.
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