Lou Jane Temple - The Cornbread Killer

THE CORNBREAD KILLER

LOU JANE TEMPLE

CORNBREAD

1 10 cast-iron skillet

1 egg

1 cups stone-ground yellow or white cornmeal

cup coarse ground yellow cornmeal

2 T. melted butter

1 tsp. each kosher salt, baking powder, baking soda

Optional: 3 strips bacon, cooked and crumbled, and 2 T. melted bacon fat

After testing dozens of versions of this batter bread, Ive come to the conclusion that a cast-iron skillet or cast-iron cornbread molds are the key to delicious cornbread. I also rejected the recipes with wheat flour and sugar. Using the two kinds of cornmeal gives the bread wonderful texture, but you could make cornbread with just stone-ground meal and it would be fine. You can also add a cup of sugar for a sweeter taste or cup of all-purpose flour for a lighter crumb. If you dont have a 10 cast-iron skillet, use an 8 skillet and only use two thirds of the batter, baking the rest in muffin tins.

Spray the skillet with Pam or another non stick spray. Place in a preheated 400 degree oven and let heat while you make the cornbread batter. Combine the dry ingredients, then add the egg, buttermilk, and melted butter and mix. Put batter in the hot skillet and bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. For a more soulful version, replace the butter with the bacon fat and add the crumbled bacon. Cracklings of duck skin or pork fat are good in this, too. To make cracklings, put strips of duck or pork skin with fat attached on a baking sheet with a rim and roast at 350 degrees until the skin is crisp, stirring occasionally so the strips in the middle of the pan get moved.

-1

The street had ghosts. Every once in a while she would see the tail end of one, just a wisp of someones leftover spirit, out of the corner of her eye. She always recognized them; the apparitions looked like the hepcats who used to play on the street, Bennie Moten or the Count, sometimes Charlie Parker with so much sadness in his eyes. One day she saw a young Duke Ellington, elegant in white tie and tails, stop and look up, then tip his silk top hat at her before disappearing around the corner of 18th and Vine. Sometimes the ghosts brought a sound track with them, short snatches of laughter and music that filled the room and then were gone.

Evelyn Edwards stared out the window of her cramped office. The city had found this space for her to use while she was putting together the big dedication weekend. It was on the second story of a building not yet officially restored; a dusty, old-fashioned billiard hall was still open on the first floor. Next weekend, the Eighteenth and Vine Historical District would be up and running. Where would she go then? Sooner or later someone would ask her when she would have her belongings moved out. If Nolan Wilkins had anything to do with it, it would be sooner.

Why had she burned so many bridges to get here? She was filled with such urgency to sort out her past, she forgot about good common sense and fair play. Nothing seemed as important as this, certainly not the consequences of some of her recent stunts. She had, in the last few days, been compelled by events to admit she might have taken a more prudent path. Some of the things shed done could be ready to come back and bite her on the ass. But shed been driven, and now she was here and committed and that was that, however it played out.

Evelyn Edwards looked around at her reflection in the old mirror she had nailed up on the office wall so she could put on makeup. Beautiful? Maybe. Skin the color of coffee with real cream in it. Long hair made longer with extensions. She had three good suits and lots of accessories. Surely he would be proud when he saw her. She looked away from her image, disgusted with herself for such a thought, such a weakness.

Evelyn pulled the telephone toward her. She had some damage control to do if she was going to survive this latest crisis. And survive she must, so she could be here in the middle of things for the dedication. Right in the middle of the action, where he would be as well.

As she fiddled with her electronic address book, looking for a number, the door opened behind her. When she organized her office, shed debated over whether to be able to see the door or to look outside. Outside won. She continued to dial, not looking around. Well, big sister, I hope you brought me some of that cornbread youre so famous for.

Mona Kirk stepped up next to the desk. I dont know who youre expecting, but I havent brought you anything but a warning. Monas eyes were blazing with anger.

Mona, Im busy here. Whats your problem?

Mona snorted. Youre the one with a problem, miss. You have been dishonest and now youre caught. And I, for one, am steamed about it. Youre jeopardizing a project that is near and dear to my heart.

She tried to get up but Mona had her wedged in her chair. Get off me, woman, Evelyn protested. I dont know what youre talking about.

Mona pointed her finger at Evelyn and leaned toward her. Evelyn was surprised at the old girl. Shed taken Mona for a widow with too much time on her hands, not a crusader.

You, Mona declared, have been demanding kickbacks from the vendors who are helping us with the gala dedication. And thats not right. Thats stealing from the people of Kansas City.

I really dont have time for this, Mona. I dont know whos been lying about me, but Im sure theres not a speck of proof that Ive asked anyone for money to be a part of your little ol dedication.

Mona straightened up with a look of triumph in her eyes. Thats where youre wrong, young lady. You better start packing up your stuff, because after tonight, Im betting youll be gone from Eighteenth and Vine. You have been found out!

Evelyn twisted her way out of the chair and stood up to face her accuser. I dont think so. Now, beat it. Ill see you at the meeting this evening, and you better not be making these silly accusations then. We still have a lot of work to do before next week. You certainly dont have time to fire me and hire another event planner, so if I were you Id just shut up and mind my own business, which is finding volunteers, as I recall.

I wont let you take advantage of this town and this committee. We can dedicate this district without you, Mona snapped. I intend to make sure of that.

Get out.

Im going, Mona said as she swept out and slammed the door.

Evelyn sat back down and fiddled with the pages of her desk calendar. She was so close. It was that florist. She knew shed made him mad when she asked for ten percent of the gross. But Evelyn didnt intend to stay in Kansas City, so she couldnt very well ask him to landscape her yard or something like that. Besides, she needed the cash. The door opened again, and Evelyn turned angrily. But it wasnt Mona Kirk, back for a second round. It was a beautiful black woman dressed in vintage clothing. Her hair was marcelled; her platform shoes and gloves and hat all matched her burgundy-colored 1940s gabardine suit. I didnt know when to expect you, Evelyn said.

Surprise is always a good weapon, dont you think, sister? And now is as good a time as any for you to explain why you think we are sisters.

Half sisters, Evelyn amended, still mesmerized by the physical presence of this other woman. She filled the room with her energy. Evelyn thought she saw one of the Eighteenth and Vine ghosts dart into the room and out again. Even the dead were attracted.

Evelyn slipped two photos out of the desk drawer and held them up. The other woman took them in her hand and stared at the images intently. There the bastard is. One with you and your momma, one with me and my momma, Evelyn said.

Whered you get these?

Just last year, when Momma passed, I found them in a box, along with some other things that belonged to our long, lost father. He must have left them behind and forgot about them, like he forgot about me and my mother, Evelyn said, the pain of remembering all there in her voice.