Last year at Thanksgiving, our obligations took us to another faction of family and I missed the dressing. That’s THE dressing. But my brother snapped a photo and sent it to me just as we were about to sit down to a meal void of anything remotely as wonderful and delectable as our grandmother’s cornbread dressing. Northerners call it stuffing or filling; we in the South do not. We call our grandmother “MaMa” (pronounced MawMaw) and she’s now 88 and although others within our family have the recipe we still have MaMa make it. [I confess there’s little point in my possession of it, though I do, as my cooking prowess is lacking.] Her homemade biscuits, cornbread, onion, broth, and sage—all combine and bake in absolute perfection. It’s her joy; her gift to the family; her reason to beam when we rave. She always makes too much and we always bring take home containers.
I’m loving my leftovers, MaMa! Mmmm.
#thanksgiving #dressing
