My beloved grandmother died in April after a long, love-filled life. For as long as I can remember, she made cornbread dressing at Thanksgiving. Even after she no longer hosted dinner for family and friends, her contribution (at everyone’s insistence) was dressing. In the South, we don’t eat stuffing. We make a big casserole dish of DRESSING. Only onions, celery, and seasonings, if anything, are put inside the turkey while cooking.
Before a new job and life adventure moved me away from my family and friends in 2003, I asked her to teach me how to make dressing. At the time, she was having knee problems, and I thought it would be good for both of us, since I like talking through a recipe instead of reading it, and I knew she could use a little help.
It’s AMAZING how much more you learn when your grandmother teaches the recipe!
- Always add a dab more baking soda to the cornbread batter when you use buttermilk. And a little flour added to the cornmeal makes a nice texture that isn’t quite as coarse. (She liked Martha White’s Cornmeal Mix the best.)
- Always use buttermilk (or sweet milk with lemon if you have none). The batter needs to be kind of soupy.
- Cook the onions and celery longer than you think you should. They need to be transparent.
- Be generous with the liquids. Nobody likes dry dressing (and I can attest to this, as I am a slow learner).
I wish I had taken pictures as we worked, but that was before it became the thing to do. I’m not posting the recipe here, as I’m sure there are plenty of cornbread dressing recipes on the internet. The magic of the dressing, for my family, was the love you could taste in every bite.
This year we decided to go out for Thanksgiving to a nice Italian restaurant. I’ll make dressing again when my heart can stand it – maybe next year.