I really should have made this sooner.
What was I thinking? I haven’t eaten a slice of cornbread in years, and it’s like discovering Netflix for the first time. There’s something so satisfying about a perfectly rich cornbread that’s delicately flavored with just the right amount of chew. It makes your soul happy.
When I eat this cornbread, I’m nine years old. It’s mid-July, and I’m transported to this gorgeous ranch in northern California. It’s daybreak. My mother and I rose early (this was my one day of being a morning person) to ride our horses up to the old adobe for breakfast. Surrounded by childhood friends, we sit by the fire, eating this magnificent cornbread and listening to a cowboy strum his guitar.
Recipes like this are truly special. They’re delicious of course, but they make up stop and smile and take a moment to remember our homes and where we come from and who we are. So give yourself some credit. We have a lot to smile about.
Naturally, I was inspired to make a list of what I wanted to do this summer vs. what I actually accomplished:
1. Develop the perfect cornbread recipe.
- Success. This recipe has 57 calories a piece and it tastes like home.
- I really missed cornbread. Like a lot.
2. Study for the SAT 25 hours a day 8 days a week.
- Um, I learned what SAT stands for. Sadistic Act of Torture.
- Extra points for ending that with a preposition. This concludes my grammar studying for the year.
3. Test and photograph every. single. recipe. from here until next summer.
- I came to the realization this wasn’t possible. A post takes me about 6 hours start to finish, and I have to write about 100 or so to finish off this year. Yeah um no. It’s just not going to happen.
- I’m hiring other people to help! (I’m ecstatic about the wonderful response I’ve gotten from this. So many qualified applicants.)
4. Become superwoman.
- I considered purchasing a cape.
5. Speak French. You let them talk you into taking the honors class and your vocabulary really needs to expand past un croissant.
- I would like une baguette, s’il vous plait.
- Getting an F still means the same thing in French.
- Mon Dieu.
6. Write a play.
- I wrote my name on the script and came up with a title. The end.
7. Make more cookies.
Don’t look back, simply because you’re not going that way. Your future is bright! (Spoiler alert: it has really good cornbread in it.)
It’s crazy to think that this little blog of mine is about to get a whole lot bigger.
First off, I am extraordinarily talented at not responding to emails. It’s amazing. If procrastinating was a country, I would be the queen. (Or if I was a superhero, I’d be this person. Cape and all.)
I love what I get to do here, and I firmly believe you all deserve the best. If I can’t publish more than two posts per week during the summer, there’s no way I can do it during my junior year.
Luckily we’re welcoming some amazing contributors to the team who will serve up recipes in the Foodie Fiasco style you know and love. And now you’ll just get more recipes! We expect to publish 1-2 recipe per day. (I know! Craziness!)
Fret not! You won’t rid of me so easily. I’m still staying on as the main author for this blog. There are plenty more exciting morsels (edible and otherwise) coming your way, so stay tuned…
Side note: If you applied for a job and haven’t heard from me, don’t worry about it! I’m still sorting through all the candidates and it will take me a bit more time.
Speaking of serious business, let’s talk cornbread.
Part of what makes this cornbread so spectacular is that you bake it in a bit of hot olive oil, which gives it this incredible crust that could bring a grown man to tears.
Yes, two teaspoons of olive oil did all this thankyouforasking.
Fat is our friend. It lubricates the joints. (At least, that’s what Nana says at breakfast. I had no idea you could put so much butter on one piece of toast.)